Chapter 18 Demi
Demi
“Ooomph,” I groan, as a heavy weight covers me hard and fast, cutting off my air supply and jolting me awake.
My eyes burst open and I’m met with CeCe’s bright blue eyes. She looks like she’s guilty of something. Or maybe I’m projecting. Who the fuck knows.
“Bitch, you better wake the fuck up, right the fuck now.”
“Ugh. Go awayyyyy,” I groan and make a futile attempt at shoving her off me. I don’t understand how someone so small can be so strong and heavy. “It’s too early in the morning and I need more sleep.”
She boops my nose with her finger. “I hate to break it to you, Dem, but morning ended an hour ago.” She pushes off me with her hands on my tits, smashing them up and into my face like the asshole she is. “Now get up. I’ll make some coffee to help bring you back to the land of the living.”
I grab a pillow and toss it aggressively at her head. “Jesus, CeCe. Was that really necessary?”
She smirks annoyingly at me and saunters back through the open door. Jerk.
She’s not really a jerk. This is just what we do. We annoy each other but it comes from a place of love. This is not the first time she’s woken me up like this. And by this, I mean aggressively. She’s a morning person, though and I most definitely am not.
Slowly, I pad through the apartment in my bare feet, letting the scent of promised caffeine fill my nostrils.
“Oh, sweet heavens, this smells divine,” I grumble as I pour myself a cup and search the fridge for creamer. When I finally grab it, I notice something missing. “Where is my cream puff, CeCe?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.
I would, however, like to talk about your hair.
” Classic deflection. Jesus, I think Raegan is in my head again, with all these psych terms. “Like, woah, girl. I’ve seen some interesting things in my life, but that would probably be considered a work of art in some countries. ”
Yet another thing she’s always ribbed me about… my wild morning hair.
“I’m glad you like it.” I grin. “I worked on it all night.”
“Don’t lie. I know what time you got home and it was practically morning. If you worked on it all night, it wasn’t from sleeping.” She gives me a sheepish grin, watching me pour my creamer into my favorite mug.
“I know what you’re doing.”
Her hand flies to her chest as she lets out an overly dramatic scoff of horror. “Moi? Surely, I have no idea what you mean.”
“Mhmm,” I deadpan. She knows. She always knows.
I test my coffee and accidentally moan as the flavor bursts across my tongue. My dear lord, this is so good.
“Do you two need a minute?” CeCe asks with a salaciously quirked brow.
“Nope. I have zero issues doing what I need to with this coffee, right in front of your face.” I lean over the marble countertop on the island and eye her curiously. “I’ll tell you what you want to know, if you confess you confiscated my cream puff. I promise I won’t get mad.”
“You promise? Really?” She doesn’t believe me and she’s probably right not to. I was really looking forward to that.
“Mhm.” I answer quietly, nodding for added effect.
“Okay, I ate it.”
“CeCe!!” I shriek.
“What the fuck? You promised!”
“I fucking lied! You know how much I love fancy pastries. This one looked so tempting in the window of the patisserie on my way home. It was practically calling my name.”
“I’m sorry. When I become a fancy ass pastry chef, I’ll make it up to you with all the finest fancy pastries. For life.”
She doesn’t look very sorry, but she also knows I’m incapable of actually being mad at her. Yet one more example of how we bicker, but also love like sisters.
“Don’t you have to apply to the fancy ass culinary institute and get accepted before you can become a fancy ass pastry chef, CeCe?” Low blow, I know. But she’s been putting it off for too long. It’s time to shit or get off the pot.
Her face falls flat as she squints her eyes into tiny slits. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Fine. No, I don’t. Now tell me your thing.”
What am I supposed to tell her? That my ex showed up and it turns out she’s actually my crush’s wife and then that crush tied me up in front of a class full of strangers before giving me the fastest orgasm of my life with only his fingers? Fuck. I’m confusing myself.
“Hayes let me demo for him in his class… finally,” I tell her plainly.
“Dem, that’s fucking great!” she exclaims, but I can’t find it in me to match her excitement. “Wait… isn’t it? It’s all you’ve been talking about. Why don’t you look happy about it?”
If that was all that happened, I’d probably be more enthusiastic, but life has a way of fucking with me and this has to be the universe’s way of telling me I’m supposed to be single and miserable.
“Raegan showed up just before the class.”
Her eyebrows lift in surprise. “We are talking about the same person, yeah? The therapist you had the lady boner for and then propositioned to be her submissive and then you fell in love with her and ended up girlfriends… until she shattered your heart into a million little pieces? That Raegan?”
“Jesus, CeCe. You really make it sound salacious and dirty. It really wasn’t. She quit as my therapist before we did anything. And yes, we’re talking about the same woman.”
“Okay,” she sighs, then moves to the fridge to pour herself some OJ. “Whatever helps you sleep at night. What is she even doing here?”
She’s really going to flip her lid at the next part.
“She’s married to Hayes.”
The fridge door slams shut and she slowly turns to face me, confusion written all over her face. “What was that?” she squeaks.
“You heard me.”
“Demmmmm,” she mutters quietly like we’re sharing a secret no one else in the world can hear. “What the actual fuck is going on?”
I wish I fucking knew. “I didn’t have time to talk to Hayes about it before our class and then he was gone by the time I had washed up. They supposedly haven’t seen each other for a long time and she flew in to sign divorce papers.”
Her hands fly up to meet her mouth, the shock of it all setting in.
I do need to talk to Hayes, but more so to make sure he understands I’m not going to stand in his way, no matter what happens.
I fully support any decision he makes. They may think they’re getting divorced but I happen to know they both still have feelings for one another.
Hell, he fucked me to try to get over her, although I guess we both kind of did that.
And she broke up with me because she’s not over him.
She didn’t say those exact words, but they also didn’t look at each other last night with hate in their eyes.
“Are you okay?” CeCe asks cautiously.
I give my shoulders a slight shrug. “I think I have to be. They’re married… to each other and I’d be a real bitch-and-a-half if I came between them. Plus, neither of them are actually mine to claim. They never really were.”
“What if they actually get divorced?”
What if?
“I don’t know. If one or both of them were in a place to want me or want me back, how would I ever choose?” I clear my throat as tears sting against the backs of my eyelids. The thought of losing either one completely is not a pleasant one.
“Eeny, meeny, miney, mo?” she sing-songs, tapping her index finger against her chin, deep in thought. “Oooo, what about an orgasm contest? That could be interesting.”
“An orgasm contest could work,” I laugh. “For all the extra time Raegan had, Hayes has certainly made up for it in the quality department.”
“I knew it! I knew you rode the Hayes train again. Fucking called it.” We both break out into a fit of laughter.
My best friend, ladies and gentleman. She’s crazy.
Once we both come down, she places her arm around my shoulders and validates me like only she can.
“Orgasms aside, it sounds like you had a weird, fucked up night. I’m sorry, babe.
If I were in your shoes, I’d probably be just as messed up about it. It’s a shame you can’t just have both.”
“I’ve gotta put some real clothes on and do some things. Go take a bath or something and relax.” She plants a kiss on my cheek and proceeds to skip through the apartment until she’s out of sight.
Her words stick in my brain like glue. Both of them?
There’s no way that would ever work, but I can’t say I hate the idea.
I’m in no way over what Raegan did to me and how she ended things, but I’m stupidly also not over her.
The thought of being touched by both of them at the same time sends a shiver down my spine in the most delicious way.
My phone pings twice from my purse on the other side of the counter, signaling incoming texts. I pull my phone out and see the first is from my dad. Pass. The second is from Hayes.
HAYES: Just checking in after last night. Are you okay?
A third text comes before I can respond.
RAEGAN: Can we talk?
Fuck my life.