Chapter 10
Jolee
The hot water beats down on me. Heavenly. I survived another night, but it was more than that. It’s the best two nights of sleep I’ve had in forever. Maybe ever.
The shower now is a bonus, relaxing me further. My mind wanders to visions of them tangled up in the sheets together. My eyes continue to betray me. I feel like I’m intruding on their intimacy, but they don’t make me feel unwelcome.
Clay didn’t even complain when I built my blanket wall again last night. There’s a part of me that knows I don’t need it, but fear always wins. It’s a first, just sleeping with a man, no men, in the same bed as me.
My hands travel my body, wondering what it would feel like to have their hands on me. The scent of their soap floats into my nose, woodsy and clean.
My sex beings to hum.
I feel almost dizzy. I decide to give in and enjoy what I want to.
My soapy hand brushes my sex, and I moan. I don’t touch myself often; I can’t even remember the last time, but this feels good. I feel alive.
Are they taking advantage of me being busy right now? Are they getting each other off in their room, right outside of this door?
Another moan slips free as I add more pressure and circle fast around my clit. My sex clenches, wishing for something to grip.
How would their cocks feel? Would they even fit? It’s hard to miss their large bulges under thin sweatpants.
I shatter thinking about it. Coming harder than I remember ever doing. Not that I have many to compare to. Even so, that was years ago.
Stepping out of the shower, into the hot steam, and grabbing one of their towels. The scent of them further wraps around me. There’s no escaping them.
I finish getting ready, taking my time doing my hair and makeup for the wedding. That way, all I have to do is slip into my dress and grab Star’s gift. I’m incredibly happy for her. She never thought she’d find love, and now she’s in love with two men.
It still feels strange to think that Grant and Clay are coming with me to her wedding. I suppose Clay knows Matt and Derrick since he works for them. He was probably invited and didn’t say anything.
I need my next plan. I’ll need to get back to my apartment after the reception. I know they won’t take me, so I will have to find someone to give me a ride. Stella will be there. Maybe she can or knows someone who would.
Then the real decisions start. I need to get back to my life without Clay interfering or hovering. Working is out of the question. I really should go to therapy for my foot; I don’t need any permanent damage because I’m too stubborn to go.
If I’m being honest, having him around hasn’t been all that bad. But I can’t admit that.
And Grant. I can see why they’re married and very much in love. Hugs, kisses, and whispered I love yous. They’re married. Happy.
I didn’t get that chance. And I’ve never allowed myself the option to love again… or try. I’m a complete disaster. Who wants to date someone like that? I’m also not one to interfere in people's relationships.
They don’t need me, yet I can’t understand that kiss from Clay. And he hasn’t kissed me again. Was it that… bad? God, it probably was. Can a person forget how to kiss?
Mortification crawls under my skin. Apparently, I did.
That kiss shattered my sanity because my mind won’t stop thinking about it. His hot lips in the cold. His body pressed against mine. He literally took the words out of my mouth.
Ugh. Maybe I do need to go to therapy. That just went to the top of my to-do list.
I’ve never felt so mixed up. And over a man that’s married? One doesn’t get more unavailable.
I shake my head, trying to clear it, but my feet freeze as I leave the safe space of the bathroom.
Dressed in open white collared shirts and pressed black pants.
Hot damn.
That ache—between my thighs—it’s back, stronger. Making it known that we like what we see.
And there goes my brain shorting out again. Losing all thoughts. Words.
I clear my throat, “I’ll be in the kitchen. I’m ready when you guys are.” My traitorous eyes steal one more glance before walking out of the bedroom.
Those are men.
Hot. Grown. Men.
That's what my body seems to want. I can’t deny that any longer.
“Damn woman! It’s freezing in here.” Grant says as we enter my apartment.
He’s not wrong, and I’m kind of glad Clay whisked me away. Thank God, I don’t have to shower here. It’s like stepping into a freezer, or what I would imagine that feels like. I'd better make sure my space heater is in my bedroom for tonight.
“I’ll be quick.”
My bedroom feels just as cold, but I go to my closet to pull out my black dress and one black heel. This will look lovely with my black boot. Ugh. I hate this thing.
At least if I wear a heel on my other foot, I shouldn’t limp as badly, and maybe not a complete catastrophe.
It just takes me a few minutes, and I’m ready. I head back to where I left Clay and Grant.
Clay is staring at an envelope. It can’t be another letter. I already got the one and only letter that I dread.
That’s over.
So why is his frown deepening?
“This is the same envelope as that last letter.” Clay points out.
What?
“I’ve never gotten more than one.” I blurt out, attempting to make sense of this. But I look. It’s an exact match, address and all. What the heck? Did she send two, just to make sure I didn’t miss it?
“What do you mean? You’re acting like this isn’t new, Jo.” Clay is now staring me down. I’m feeling every inch of his height next to me. Not that I think he would ever hurt me. Grant’s looking at me just as confused as I feel.
“Well… not entirely…” Fuck. What do I tell him? I’m terrible at lying. I can’t tell them about my dead fiancé or his angry mother. I’ve never told anyone.
“Spit it out. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.”
“We can’t help you.” Grant corrects him.
Double shit.
Do I even want their help? If she starts sending more letters, I don’t know how much more I can take. I also don’t think Clay is going to drop this. He seems… invested for whatever reason.
“I get one every year, but just one. I swear. That’s the weird part.”
“That’s the weird part? Jesus Jo. This isn’t normal at all. Nothing about this is okay.”
“Let me read it.”
He hesitates for a second, but he decides I need to read it.
Jolee,
I wasn’t planning to write this letter, but I can’t hold it in anymore.
I knew he didn’t love you. He loved me. Only me.
We had a life planned, and you weren’t in it.
I was his real love—doesn’t leave this kind of wreckage behind.
This isn’t a conversation. Not up for debate. It’s simply something I felt you should know, since you still seem to occupy space in a story that is no longer yours to tell.
It’s time I made my own peace. It’s also time to help you understand how you destroyed my family and me.
SJ
She’s right. I don’t understand… any of this. Something more has snapped in her, and I’m not sticking around to dwell on it. She already consumes enough of my life.
“Clay, I’m fine. They’re just letters. Nothing more.”
I don’t know what’s gotten into Sherry, but whatever. If it makes her feel marginally better, then so be it. I might need to stop opening them, though. My walls aren’t built for this.
Both men look concerned, but I do what I do best. Ignore it. Attempt to go about my life. And right now, we have a wedding to get to.
“We should get going. I don’t want to be late.”
I grab Star’s gift and head out the door.
They can follow or not.