Chapter 3
3
I t’s after 2pm when I wake up from my muscle relaxer induced nap. Sleeping that much during the day makes me feel like I’ve been out for years and my sluggish mind attempts to pull me back under. I fight it, and make myself sit up as carefully as possible, bracing myself for the bright flare of pain.
Thankfully, it’s only a dull throb now. Good enough to go out.
After I get up and move around a little more to test and make sure the pain doesn’t come back right away, I pull up my text thread with Isaac to confirm the time we’re meeting. I frown when I see an unread message from last night, as well as one from a few hours ago.
Crap, I should’ve checked that when I got up. I was too distracted by the pain and subsequent problem-solving mode to look at my texts.
Isaac (11:32pm): Hey Grace! Mind if we reschedule for next weekend? A friend needs my help with something tomorrow night.
Isaac (10:14am): Hope I didn’t upset you. Let me know if you’re still up to go out another time.
Oh. Well, okay then. Guess I didn’t need to worry about backing out because he’d already done it for me. I wait for anger or disappointment to crop up, but all I feel is relief.
Isaac is cute, but I didn’t imagine the date going anywhere other than maybe a few dinners and some mediocre third date sex where I pretend to orgasm, and then one of us ghosts the other person. Shit, in that scenario, I’d also have to stop going to get coffee where he works. I really didn’t think things through. This is the best outcome.
I text him back, letting him know it’s fine, and that I’m busy next weekend. Hopefully, he won’t bring it up if I see him in person, and if he does, I’ll make something up until he moves on. I’m hot, but not enough for someone as attractive as him to get caught up on.
Once that’s taken care of, I chug some water, make myself more coffee, and go sit out on the back deck while I munch on some carrots and hummus. I read somewhere that being in the sun helps boost your mood, so I try to be outside for at least fifteen minutes a day, since it can’t hurt anything.
The family in the condo attached to mine is out in their fenced in sliver of yard, the kids racing around with their pit bull puppy while the parents argue about something at the grill. I give them a wave and smile, cringing internally when I realize I’m still in my pajama shorts and oversized t-shirt with no bra. Thankfully, Mr. Anderson doesn’t seem like he has a pervy bone in his body because his eyes don’t fall from my face as the couple returns my greeting.
“Nice weather for grilling,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest so I don’t make anyone uncomfortable with my free-hanging tits.
“Yeah, the weather’s been beautiful this week. Next week is going to be broiling though,” Mrs. Anderson says amiably.
“Makes me wish I had a pool.” I gesture to my equally tiny backyard and laugh. “I’ll have to settle for a kiddie pool, for now.”
“You’re welcome to borrow ours if you’d like,” Mr. Anderson says, and his wife nods in agreement.
“Thanks!” There’s no way I’m going to borrow a child’s inflatable pool from them and sit out in the yard, but the offer is kind.
“Any fun plans for the rest of the day?” Mrs. Anderson asks.
“Nope. I thought maybe I’d go out, but plans changed.” I must sound dejected when I say it, because they both frown a little and exchange a glance that silently says “poor woman, alone again on a Saturday night”.
Okay, maybe I’m a little bummed that I’ve wasted half a day trying to be well enough to go out, only to find myself with no plans. It’s sad when the stressed out parents of three wild kids feel bad for you.
I drink my coffee to the sounds of squealing kids and happy dog barks, letting the afternoon sun bake me until it, combined with the heat pad, makes me too hot to stay outside any longer.
When I’m back inside, I survey my living room with a sigh. The couch is still set up from my morning nap. What a depressing sight. Is this what my life has come to?
There was a brief window after the divorce was finalized and I moved into this condo where I was out almost every night of the week. I was seizing the freedom of single life with both hands. Sure, that was exhausting and no doubt my way of distracting myself from my broken marriage, but it was better than this. Now I’m tired from a day of lying around.
Nope. I’m not doing this. I’m not feeling sorry for myself tonight. The day isn’t ruined yet, it’s only early afternoon. There’s plenty of time to find something to do. If worse comes to worst, I’ll head over to Nightlight and see if I can find someone to flirt with or chat with the friendly bartender, Tomas.
I pull up my text thread with my best friend, Mona. Most likely she already has plans with her fiancé, but I can check. Ever since they met, our weekend hangs have diminished. Not that I don’t contribute to that by regularly backing out of plans because I’m in too much pain.
Grace: Hey! Wanna hang out tonight?
Mona: Hey! I thought you had a date? Did you cancel?
Ouch. I get why she assumes I was the one to cancel, but it still feels bad.
Grace: For once, no. He said he had to help a friend. I don’t care so much about the canceled date, but I was looking forward to getting out of the house for a bit.
Mona: Damn. His loss.
Mona: I was planning on going to see Blair perform at The Vault tonight. Come with me!
My stomach does a weird flip at the mention of our mutual friend. Probably because a handful of months ago, I found out that she’s a vampire and that monsters are real. It’s an instinctual prey reaction, no doubt. Not that she’s ever threatened me.
Blair comes off as aloof at first, but after spending time with her, I realized that’s a well-crafted act. She spent hours helping to fix my disastrous burlesque costume for the class performance we were in, when the only connection we had at the time was our mutual friendship with Mona. She’s the best kind of supportive—empathetic and helpful while not sugar coating things.
Or at least she was when we spent time together. I haven’t seen Blair since New Year’s Eve, which was months ago. Not intentionally. She’s been busy with work, and I’ve been busy being pathetic. I don’t feel up to going out most nights, and she’s not awake during the day.
Us not seeing each other has nothing to do with that moment right before the clock struck midnight. I’m not even sure it was a moment. I was drunk and coming off a bad string of first dates, and there was a second when I had the weirdest urge to do something when I saw couples getting ready to kiss. Blair was staring directly into my eyes and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Then someone knocked into me and spilled champagne all over my dress and it was gone.
It was for the best. Blair is beautiful, but I’m not attracted to women. Kissing someone because you’re lonely and intoxicated doesn’t mean you want them. I’m happy about the champagne accident. It stopped me from making things really awkward between us.
Though, now that I think about it, maybe even the look we exchanged was enough to mess up our friendship. We used to spend time together at least once a week and now …
No, I’m overthinking things. We’re still friends. She’s just busy and I’m a forgetful mess.
The Vault is a kink club a few miles outside of town. I’ve been there once, for a burlesque show that Mona performed in. I wonder what kind of performance Blair is doing. She also does burlesque, but she’s a professional domme. Is Mona going there tonight to see her dominate someone?
Sweat beads on my brow, and I can’t blame that entirely on being overheated from the sun and my heating pad. My stomach clenches again in that strange way that makes me feel like the floor has dropped out from beneath me.
What exactly does Blair do as a domme? I’ve never had the guts to ask her about it.
Well, that’s not completely true. I’d confessed to Mona about my unconventional fantasies after she divulged the kinky sex she and Max were having, and she said I should discuss it with Blair. We went out for drinks after my first—and only—burlesque performance, and I was riding the post-performance high, so it felt like the right time to ask.
But then Mona called… and I found out that monsters exist.
After that, it didn’t feel like a high priority. Who cares that your friend is a domme when they’re also a goddamn vampire?
Now that the shock of that revelation has faded, I wish I’d found out more. Purely so I’d know what I’m getting into tonight if I go with Mona. A handful of late night internet searches about kink and BDSM means I won’t be totally in the dark, but there’s a big difference between reading the definition of domination and seeing it in action.
Grace: Isn’t Max going with you? No offense, but I’m not sure I’m the kind of friend that wants to see you two banging .
Mona’s an exhibitionist. Honestly, I wouldn’t have a problem seeing her naked because I already have, but I don’t know if I could look Max in the eyes again after seeing his dick.
Mona: Nope! He has to work tonight, so it’ll just be me.
Mona: Don’t be scared. No one will bother you. You don’t have to do anything except watch, and if that makes you uncomfortable, we’ll go home.
Grace: Who says I don’t want to do something?
Mona: With Blair?
Grace: What? No! Don’t they have any sexy, mysterious doms with a firm hand and an even firmer dick?
Mona: LOL I haven’t noticed. Max already checks all those boxes for me. But we can ask around for you if you want.
Grace: I’m joking.
Grace: Maybe.
There’s no fucking way I’m hooking up with anyone tonight, not with the iffy way my neck is still feeling. But I’m supposed to be the fun, adventurous friend so it’s good to keep up appearances.
Mona: I’ll pick you up at 9? Or I can come earlier and we can get ready together.
I cringe at the idea of her coming over. My place is a mess, and it’d be too embarrassing for her to see it like this.
Grace: Mind if we get ready at yours instead? I can bring over dinner.
Mona: That sounds great! I’m so excited. It feels like it’s been ages since we’ve hung out like this.
Grace: Yeah, me too!
I’m still a little freaked out about the prospect of what I’ll see at The Vault, but spending time with my best friend is the best possible outcome for the night. Much better than a date with a mediocre man.