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I’ve been beating myself up since I woke up this morning. For being disappointed in the way last night ended. For being upset that Royal didn’t try to kiss me. For regretting not taking the plunge and initiating a kiss, myself.
And for exploiting the way his gaze kept sliding toward my bared midriff. Oh, I noticed. And after I noticed the first time, I made sure to keep moving and twisting in ways that made my top slide up in small increments. I intentionally teased him for hours.
God, I’m an idiot.
What was I hoping would happen? That Royal would lose control and touch me? Kiss me? Pin me to a wall and explore every inch of me?
News flash––he didn’t do any of that.
And that hug I gave him before he left was reckless and impulsive, but it did its job. It proved which way the wind blows in regards to Royal’s feelings. I’m a colleague. Maybe a friend. That’s it.
So, why am I still obsessing over it all? Because I’m a glutton for punishment, that’s why.
I need to accept the fact that nothing will ever happen between us and stop harboring these sick fantasies about his mouth on mine. Jesus, I don’t even know how I actually got to this point. If you’d asked me ten days ago, I’d tell you I couldn’t stand the man. And now, I’m daydreaming about things I have no business daydreaming about.
That’s why I’ve invited Raven, Joey, and Twila over for brunch this morning. So I can talk all this out with them and let them whip me into shape. They’ll make me see just how insane I’m being, and have both feet firmly on the ground when I see Royal at work tomorrow.
I’ve got the champagne and orange juice out for mimosas, and I’m toasting the bagels when a loud knock sounds on the door. I yell out that it’s unlocked, and Raven strides in with my sister Joey and her best friend, Twila, hot on her heels.
“We could’ve been serial killers, you know,” Raven says without preamble. “You should keep your door locked.”
“I only unlocked it a few minutes ago, and I don’t think a serial killer would knock.”
“I wouldn’t bet my life on that,” she says, snagging half a bagel before smothering it in cream cheese.
I watch her for a moment, one corner of my mouth ticking up. “Why do seagulls fly over the sea?”
“What?” she asks, then looks over at Joey and Twila, who are filling our glasses, with an exaggeratedly worried look.
I huff. “Come on. Why do seagulls fly over the sea?”
Raven rolls her eyes. “Okay, I’ll bite. Why do seagulls fly over the sea?”
I grin. “Because if they flew over the bay, they’d be bagels.”
Twila giggles, earning a beaming smile from me, but Raven only groans, saying, “Oh, my God. That is so stupid. Did one of your students tell you that joke?”
“No, it was…” I start, then shake my head. “Never mind. I forgot your sense of humor is as black as your soul.”
She holds up her hand, extending her pointer and pinky fingers while curling the rest in the sign of the devil while sticking out her tongue. I chuckle as I pick up the plate of toasted bagels and take them to the table. Raven brings the cream cheese and mashed avocado, and Joey passes out the champagne flutes as we all take our seats.
I look at my sister as I take my first sip, and she has a faraway expression in her eyes paired with a slight frown. Stretching out a leg under the table, I nudge her knee with my bare toe.
“What’s up with you, Jo?”
“What?” she says, her gaze clearing when she meets my eyes. “Oh. Nothing.”
“Bodacious Buckaroo is at it again,” Twila chimes in, and Joey grunts and elbows her right in the boob.
Twila shouts at the pain before shoving at Joey’s shoulder. Joey teeters to the side, then straightens and mumbles an apology to Twila, who’s rubbing her boob and frowning.
“What did he do this time?” I ask when they both calm down.
“Nothing. I don’t want to talk about it,” Joey says, and I nod.
Bodacious Buckaroo is my sister’s social media archenemy. There’s no other way to put it. He posted something that offended Jo last year, and she, of course, posted a heated response which set off a huge beef that shows no signs of petering out anytime soon. I don’t know all the details because Joey refuses to talk about it, but she freaking hates that guy’s guts, and every time they get into it online, she’s in a funk for days. I don’t really understand the appeal of fighting with people online, and it’s all very exhausting.
“Why do you let an internet troll get under your skin like that?” I ask.
“Yeah,” Raven chimes in. “Just block his ass and be done with it.”
We’ve had this conversation before, and it always goes the same. Joey refuses to talk about it, and never blocks his account. I think, on some level, she feels powerful in this battle of wits. She’s so shy and introverted in real life, but online, she can express herself without fear. Some might call her a keyboard warrior, but I know she’s usually respectful and kind online––except when it comes to the troll. He pushes her buttons in a way no one ever has, and battling with him can be a bit…exhilarating for Joey.
Whatever he did to put her in this mood, he’ll get his comeuppance. Of that, I have no doubt.
“Twila’s beef with Emerson on BingBang is worse than mine with Bullshit Buckaroo,” Joey says by way of a response in an attempt to take the heat off herself.
Twila’s videos on BingBang regularly go viral, and she actually makes a living with sponsorships and advertising deals. I don’t use the app a lot, so I have no idea who this Emerson person is or why he’s beefing with Twila. When I look at her, she clears her throat and grabs a bagel.
“Can you pass the avocado, please?” she asks, clearly wanting to change the subject.
I take pity on her and pass the spread with a smile. Her expression is grateful, but I wish I’d pushed her for more details about that Emerson character when Raven speaks.
“So, does this impromptu boozy brunch have anything to do with you being hot for teacher?”
“What?” Joey chirps.
She and Twila stare at me with matching wide-eyed expressions, and I roll my eyes at Raven with a sigh, saying, “Thanks a lot.”
“Anytime, Bestie. It’s best to rip the bandage off all at once, right?” she says with a smug grin before taking a big bite of her bagel.
“What is she talking about?” Joey asks. “Who is this teacher you’re hot for, and why don’t I know about him?”
“Cool your tits, Josette,” Raven says after swallowing her food. “She’s trying to tell you, now.”
“Oh, my God,” Twila chimes in before I can say a word. “Is it Royal? It’s him, isn’t it?”
I feel my cheeks heat, as Raven says, “And I only guessed because she got jealous when some Barbie was all over Mr. Manning at the convention.”
“I told you that was food poisoning,” I say, but there’s no heat in the obvious lie.
“Okay, okay. Start from the beginning, please,” Joey says.
So, I do. I tell them about the convention and sharing a room––platonically––with Royal. Karaoke and the drunken almost-kiss in the elevator. His new habit of pouring my coffee in the staff breakroom. His efforts to keep his class noise to a minimum all week. And finally, his agreement to help me make my lessons more fun.
“He came over last night to help me plan. We had tacos and beer. We laughed, like, a lot . I felt a vibe. He checked me out a few times. I thought… I don’t know what I thought, but he didn’t make a move. I even hugged him before he left. A real hug. Long and tight. He hugged me back, but that was it. And now, I’m going crazy because I know it’s for the best, but I can’t help feeling disappointed.”
“So, you like him now?” Joey asks, her surprise evident.
“Yeah, I do,” I admit quietly.
“Well, then, you should go for it. Ask him out, or something,” Joey says, surprising me a bit.
“I second that,” Raven chimes in firmly, not surprising me, at all.
“It’s risky,” Twila says, looking unsure. “If he says no, or even if he says yes and things don’t work out between you two, you’ll be stuck seeing him every day. You can’t exactly cut him out of your life if things go sour.”
Nobody speaks for several long moments, then I sigh. “Twila’s right. It’s not worth the risk.”
Joey’s face scrunches in thought before she asks, “But what if it is? What if Royal Manning is your person, and you’re tossing away a chance at something real because you’re scared?”
I blink a few times as I stare back at her. Joey might be my younger sister, but she surprises me sometimes with her mature insightfulness. My throat tightens as I digest her words.
Could she be right? And would finding out if Royal is my person be worth the risk?