Chapter 7 Fuck You, Forrest Gump
Dakota
God, I hate him. I hate everything about him. I hate that stupid beard he’s been sporting for years. I hate his brown hair
that’s always sticking up all over the place. I hate those tattoos that completely cover his arms and make him think he’s
God’s gift to women. I hate the way his greenish-blue eyes look like a disgusting, infested lake. I hate the way his square
jaw always looks clenched like he needs to take a shit. And I hate how his brother is married to my best friend, and now I’m
stuck with the asshole until the end of time!
I especially hate that he thinks I’m a Karen just because I don’t want to share a room with him. “I’ll show him a Karen,”
I mumble to myself as I yank my clothes out of my suitcase and begin hanging them in the closet.
“Gonna leave any room in there for me, Big K?”
I jut my chin toward him. “There are three hangers left. Here you go, Killer.”
I walk over to where he stands by the balcony, and just as he reaches for the hangers, I toss them out the window onto the
sandy beach below.
A slow smile creeps across his face. “Now who’s the mature one?”
“That’s for the Forrest Gump line on the plane.”
“Did I hurt your feelers, Karen Kay? Is there actually a soul inside your big black heart?”
“Ugh,” I growl and turn on my heel, whipping my hair in his stupid smug face. “Can you just go away and let me unpack in peace?”
“Sure thing, Snookems. Can I go to the house and get you anything? A snack? A fresh drink? An enema to help you get that stick
out of your ass?”
“Yes, and why don’t you get a personality for yourself while you’re at it? You’ve obviously killed yours at some point in
your life.”
Calder grumbles under his breath but shockingly does leave the room for a moment. As soon as he’s gone, I text Cozy a huge
SOS message to come to the palapa asap.
I inhale a cleansing breath as I stare out at the ocean view, willing it to make this situation better. But a white sandy
beach and turquoise water is no match for the rage that man evokes inside of me.
My head jerks around when I hear a knock at my door. I march over and swing it open to reveal my best friend. “Did you know
about this?” I point to Calder’s bag on the sofa.
“Everly told me there was some room mix-up.” Cozy steps into the room, taking in the space with wide, impressed eyes.
I am less impressed. “Room mix-up? What the hell? I don’t want to share a room with Calder. I’d rather share a room with your
mother-in-law!”
She winces. “Johanna snores like a trucker.”
“Cozy!” I cross my arms and stand with ten toes down to indicate how unfunny I think this all is.
I didn’t even want to come on this trip because it was clearly all just family, but Cozy and Trista wouldn’t take no for an
answer. They both said I needed to celebrate the fact that my divorce is final, and what better way than a private jet and
an all-expenses-paid trip.
And after what my divorce cost me, it sounded pretty good.
Randal and I separated over a year ago, but coming to terms on our assets was a deep, deep hell that I never want to think about ever again.
He hired some big-shot lawyer out of Denver and tried to take half of my business.
A business that I started all on my own before I even met him.
A business that supported us for the seven years we were together.
A business that he tried to mansplain to me on a regular basis!
“Why do you only sell T-shirts, Dakota? You should sell pants.”
“Your business name should be catchier.”
“Maybe you should hire a new designer and change your logo?”
“If you moved locations, you’d have more street traffic.”
He had so much input on a company that he refused to ever work in, even after he was let go from the bar he managed. I asked
him if he wanted to help out at my mail-order fulfilment center until he figured out his next steps, and he said no. He didn’t
want anything to do with The T-shirt Shop until the end, and I paid dearly for that, paying him a huge settlement to keep
the things I bought with my own money. How I ever thought I was in love with that asswipe is beyond me.
And while celebrating my divorce being final with this trip sounded good in theory... I had other plans. Bigger plans.
Like visiting a sex club for the first time.
Which I haven’t had the guts to tell my best friend about yet... and now I really don’t want to tell her because of fucking
Calder.
Like seriously, of all the sex clubs in Colorado, what were the odds that I would walk into the one he’s a member of? It’s
not like going to sex clubs is a common thing. It’s not like running into each other at the supermarket. There I was just
browsing for dick, and then bam, the Calder Daily Special was announced on the loudspeaker.
Talk about completely mortifying.
I’m normally a pretty confident girl. Granted, I’ve gained some weight over the past five years, and my size-four jeans have
been collecting dust for ages, but arguably this is my body now, like it or not. Or at least that’s what I keep telling myself.
However, as I dip my toe back into the dating scene in a different body than when I left it seven years ago, insecurity needles at me.
I’m older now, things aren’t as perky as they once were, and the brazen confidence that was my bread and butter in my twenties has dulled in recent years.
Which is why I felt good in the little outfit I painstakingly picked out for that night.
A new outfit was the boost of confidence I needed for my big foray into the sex club.
That was until I found myself standing in front of Killer Calder Fletcher. The guy who literally leaves a wake of destruction
wherever he goes. Ugh.
But I refused to let him see me squirm. The ass.
He totally fucked with my post-divorce plan, and now I’m too embarrassed to tell my best friend that her brother-in-law saw
me nearly naked... at a sex club.
Double ugh.
I’m not so sure Cozy would understand my reasons for going there either. She knows of my struggles with Randal: the constant
fights we’d have when he was drunk, and so on. But there’s a lot I’ve kept from her. I didn’t want to pop the love bubble
she’s been living in. She’s all happy and domesticated now. A mother of two, a fledgling charcuterie board–making business
she does for fun while being married to a millionaire who can charter private jets and take his family to Mexico. She doesn’t
need my drama.
We were childhood best friends who grew up watching Family Feud together and eating nutty bars in each other’s living rooms. Me going to sex clubs isn’t the life we dreamed of as kids.
Maybe that life doesn’t exist for me anymore.
“Don’t hate me for saying this, but this room is huge and gorgeous. You can hear the ocean all night long.” She pulls the
curtain that separates the spaces. “Is it really that bad to share?”
“Yes, it’s that bad,” I whine. “Your brother-in-law is disgusting. I bet he doesn’t shower the whole time we’re here.”
“It’s not like you have to hang out in the room with him all day. You just need to sleep.”
I roll my eyes and cross my arms, feeling stubborn about this.
“Okay, okay. Maybe Calder can bunk with Max in our room, and I can stay here with you.”
My face falls. “I’m not about to rob you of a sexy getaway with your husband. Max will hate me! And he’s pretty much the only civilized one of all the Fletcher brothers.”
Cozy laughs at that and rubs a spot on her neck. “He has his caveman moments, but you’re right. Those three living on the
mountain together still kind of weirds me out. I can’t imagine ever liking my sister enough to live next door to her on a
remote property.”
I cry in “only child syndrome” but agree, even though I have no context to compare to it. “They all kind of look the same
too. Do you notice that?”
“Bearded, tattooed, flanneled, and shockingly well-scented? Yes, I do notice that.”
My cheeks heat as I recall Calder’s scent in the small closet at the sex club. It was unlike anything I’d ever smelled before.
If he was a different man with that scent... who knows what would have happened in that tiny room.
Shaking off the heat rising up my cheeks I murmur, “I didn’t notice the scent part.”
“Max smells amazing too, don’t get me wrong. But the others have a different musk to them.”
“Can we stop talking about their musk, please? They’re still all knuckle-dragging animals,” I say with a harrumph. “Poor Johanna
had to give birth to all those giant meatheads.”
“She does kind of walk funny now that you mention it.” Cozy giggles.
I give her a playful shove. “You’re gross.”
With a sigh, she drops down onto my bed. “Seriously, though... we’ll figure this out. Carlos said there’s some resorts
down the road a ways. I can book you a room there, no problem.”
I exhale heavily as Cozy begins checking out resorts on her phone. I really don’t want her worrying about me on this trip.
I’m already here free of charge, and I know she and Max won’t let me pay for my own room somewhere else. The last thing I
want to do is cost them more money just because of Calder’s... musk.
Plus, if I could live with Randal for seven years and whatever version of himself he came home as at night, I can handle Calder Fletcher for a few days. He’s child’s play compared to my ex. And it’s not like we’ll be spending ample time in this room together like we’re a couple. I’ve got this.
I grab her phone to stop her from looking. “Don’t bother with a room. I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?” she asks with concern etched all over her face. “I want this trip to be nice for you.”
“It will be, don’t worry. But I swear if Calder does anything creepy, he doesn’t get to come home on the plane. Deal?”
“Deal!” Cozy smiles triumphantly.
“And I get the big bed.”
She nods in solidarity. “Cavemen are used to sleeping on the ground, anyways.”
That brings a small grin to my face. I can handle this. It’s just a few days. I can handle anything for a few days.