12. Selena
Selena
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” I mumble as I rush down the hallway, rounding the corner so fast I almost run into an older couple.
“Sorry.” I rush out as I pass by them and scan my keycard against the reader, opening the door to my room. It's still a mess from this morning, with clothes tossed about, so I quickly hang them up, then sit down on the edge of my bed, falling backward.
Oh my god! What just happened? I can’t believe I just did that. Not to mention the fact that he found me here. How did he know where to find me? Has he been stalking me? Shit, he could be here to kill me, and what do I do? Have sex with his fucking ass beside the ice machine.
I’m a glutton for punishment, obviously.
It didn’t stop me from taking what I wanted, some fucking good ass dick.
I don’t know how I’ve been so lucky to come across two men in the last few days that have made me orgasm like no other.
Call me crazy, but damn if I don’t love it.
If he wants to pleasure me like that, then I’ll gladly let him tie me up and lock me in a basement, making me his own personal sex slave.
Use me as his own personal skin suit. Fuck if I care.
Has to be better than going to my mother’s wedding.
I sit up and gaze around my room. All the euphoria from my wild sexcapade drifts away, knowing that I have to go yet another round with my mother tonight. I love her dearly, but I can’t stand being around her.
“AHHHHHHH!” I scream out in aggravation. At the same time, I hear my phone ping, letting me know I have an incoming message. Dread fills me with who it could be—my top guess, Mother dearest. No doubt messaging to remind me what a disappointment I am.
Mom: The rehearsal tonight has been canceled. The wedding planner will meet with Abel and the boys tomorrow, and then us before the nuptials.
Wow! Okay, not that I’m complaining, but why? Is she really not even going to say?
I’m about to reply when another message pops up.
Sam: Bitch, it’s been over 24 hours since you left with no contact. Are you dead?
I can’t help but cackle at my best friend. He’s the best, and I have no clue what I’d do without him. He’s comforted me through every visit with my mother. But before I can chat with Sam, I need to find out what the hell's going on with this damn rehearsal.
Me: Why was it canceled?
No need to pussyfoot around; blunt and to the point is how I like it.
Mom: Really, Selena? You have the gall to ask me that after today?
My nerves are shot after the way you behaved.
How you talked to me. I could barely contain my emotions and Abel felt it was best to take a night for me.
He’s booked us an overnight couple’s retreat to pamper me.
I expect to see you in my suite tomorrow at 10 am sharp.
Me: Mom, don’t you think you’re overreacting just a little bit?
Mom: No, I don’t! Just look at you now. I’m turning my phone off. See you tomorrow, Selena. Hopefully, this bitchy attitude of yours will not make a presence.
Could she be any more dramatic? Dropping my phone on the bed I stand up, head over to the minibar, and pull out a bottle of whiskey.
Normally this isn’t something I’d do because of the cost. While I had talked myself out of doing it earlier, this text conversation changed my mind again.
Thank you, Mom. Hope you and the new stepdad enjoy this added expense on the bill.
Opening the bottle, I lift it to my lips and take a long swallow of the bitter brown liquid.
A weight is lifted off my shoulders that the rehearsal and dinner have been canceled.
The time I spent with her was plenty for the day, and I have no desire to meet Abel’s sons.
Is that bitchy of me? Maybe, but I don’t care.
What could I possibly have in common with some spoiled kids of a rich man?
They've probably never worked a day, choosing to live off their trust funds.
Good, now I can get drunk tonight, have a hangover tomorrow so I won’t care what she says, then come back to my room and crash for the rest of the day.
Opening the minibar, I pull out two more bottles and make my way back over to the bed, kicking off my shoes and sitting down, resting my back against the headrest and picking up my phone.
Sam: Are you in jail? Did she finally make you crack? Do I need to sell my body to raise money for bail and an attorney?
Sam: Jose nixed selling my body but said I could get on the foot porn site. I’m making my feet all pretty as I type this.
I laugh so hard, I choke on the liquid in my mouth. It flies out as I start coughing.
Me: I’m alive, not in jail, but very much headed toward being drunk.
Sam: Awwww hell. Drunk Selena. WTF happened?
Me: Apparently I was rude and embarrassing today, even though she took every opportunity to fat shame me. So, no rehearsal tonight. Now the minibar and I are getting to know each other on a very intimate level.
Sam: Seriously, you fat? Not to be rude, Selly, but is your mom on some kind of drug? You have a body other women would kill for. Men would die to be with you, well, all men but me. Sorry Baby, it’s all about the sausage for me, tacos make me want to hurl.
Sam: I can feel my body going into anaphylaxis just thinking about a clam.
Me: And that’s why I love you. Want to come out here and save me? I can check the flights. You can be my plus 1.
Sam: NO!
Sam: I love you Selly, but NOOOOOOOOOOO.
Me: Fine, be that way! I was going to tell you all about the hot guy from the club who hunted me down here, and we just fucked in the hallway of the resort, not to mention the guy I met on the plane who inducted me into the mile high club.
Sam: Yes. You slut. I love you, Baby… Shit. Jose’s naked. I have to go. I’m about to get my own world rocked. Promise me when you get home, we have a bestie night complete with pizza and alcohol.
Me: Promise.
One thing is for sure, I lucked out in the best friend department. And at the moment I’m lucking out in the alcohol department too.
I open both bottles and chug them one at a time. God, that fucking burned going down, but after a few more, I’m not even going to care.
“I’ll have another bartender,” I say out loud, laughing at my own humor.
Standing up I head to the minibar and take out all the bottles inside. Once I’m back at the bed, I don’t have to worry about getting up again. Drunk time, party of one, here I come.