Nine
Teagan
Two weeks into my contract with Heath, I feel . . . good . A rare word for me to use when it comes to my general mood or outlook on life, but it’s an apt one. I feel good.
At work, the smell of old books and fresh toner is like a scented candle to me, the whirr of the copier digitizing files in the background is my lo-fi playlist, the busy work of scouring through discovery is my reality TV. I’m neck-deep in my summer internship, scheduled for thirty-two hours every week at one of my parents’ associate law offices in the city, with just enough time off to attend my summer semester course for four hours every Tuesday and Thursday. At 7:00 p.m., it’s two hours past my shift—a good gesture to show I’m not the worst nepo baby to exist—and time to clock out. I highlight and tab the section about Married Boss Man having sexual relations with Also Married Client #33 and shove the rest into the folder. Class starts in an hour, then I will stay to study and prep with Ryan at the library until midnight at least. An easy day.
On my way to the elevator, my heels echo through the lobby. Our head secretary looks up from her phone and smiles.
“Hey, Teagan,” Brooke greets me like a watchful auntie. “You should leave earlier on the days you have class.”
I can’t feel burnout when I bury my feelings beneath copious amounts of iced coffee and hot sex. “I’ll be fine. I still have time to grab some caffeine on the way.”
“Caffeine this late at night.” She tuts. “Do you ever sleep?”
She knows my parents, their associates, and makes it a point to learn everything about my classes, my friends, and the wedding. I can never tell if she is just being nice to me because we’re the only two Black women in the office or if she knows my connections to the partners provides her with job security. I don’t mind either way. It’s nice to have someone looking out for me.
“Occasionally,” I say with a smirk.
“You can’t let all those white boys run you in circles with no rest, Ms. Lady.”
“I know. I promise I’ll sleep next month. Have a good night!”
She laughs while shaking her head at me. “Have a good night.”
~
Class was a great distraction. The more hours that pass bring me closer to the weekend—my two, possibly three days straight of getting busy in a much more enjoyable fashion.
“What’s that face?” Ryan asks.
My eyes snap to his. “What face?”
“You’re smiling. It’s weird.”
The sex last night was everything, and I get more tomorrow. What’s not to smile about?
“It’s weird for me to smile?” I ask.
“Uh, like that ? Yeah.”
Six-week courses are killer, but it will save me time and stress in my last year. My parents have a strict timeline they’ve laid out for my success. Graduating next spring and passing the bar exam on my first try next July is nonnegotiable. With an internship and full-time class schedule, it leaves little time for life to happen, but that’s why I don’t have one.
Ryan’s engagement was a curve ball, and asking me to help with the wedding made me want to commit felonies against him, but here we are. Mary graduated with her bachelor’s, and our next year will be consumed by classes and exam prep. It was either this summer or make her wait another year and a half while the Spanish side of her family shames her for “living in sin” with Ryan. Mary deserves the wedding of her dreams, but it is very inconvenient for me.
While I wish I was hooking up with someone other than Heath, the abundance of items on my to-do list feel less arduous when half of my days end with an orgasm or two. Sex is my Me Time this summer. Rough, sweaty Me Time.
“You’re doing it again!” Ryan says.
Damn it .
“Can you focus, please? We need to get this done. I have work in the morning, remember?”
“Oh right. My bad.”
Under the gothic arches of the law library’s ceiling, next to our tired peers pouring over case studies for our class’s mock trial, Ryan and I have one of the study tables to ourselves. Occasional laughter echoes through the designated no talking area, giving life to the usually somber space.
We’re not worried about the trial. It’s straightforward and we’re great at filling in the gaps in each other’s knowledge, no matter how large or small they may be. It’s one of the joys of having been best friends and classmates for a decade and a half.
“I cannot believe I’m getting married in two months,” Ryan says. His dreamish stare into space makes it hard to tell how long he has been thinking about it. He’s a lovesick little douche.
“I can,” I grumble.
“Oh, right. This is crunch time for you, huh?”
“You gave me six months. It’s been ‘crunch time’ the whole time,” I complain.
Ryan laughs at my misfortune, his blue eyes squinting. “I’m sorry. I do appreciate it, though. You’re the best ‘best ma’am’ ever.”
With Mary’s only sibling being her brother, they went with the modern arrangement of a man of honor and best ma’am. As demanding as it has been, I can acknowledge that it is an honor, or whatever. “You’re lucky to have me.”
“I am.” Ryan wobbles the pen he holds between his fingers. His nervous tic. “It’s good, right?”
“What? The wedding?”
“Yeah.”
I may be worried about schedules and florists, but Ryan is scared about the big M. Marriage . He won’t say it, but he knew I would be the only one trustworthy enough not to stress him out more than the thought of lifetime commitment. He and Brett are close, especially now that they are the first ones to get married, but Brett is too out of touch with reality, humanity, and the concept of time to organize anything. “I’ve got this. Don’t worry.”
“I know. You always have it together.” He moves from fiddling to tapping the pen against his book. “I can’t comprehend how you manage to do it all.”
“It’s really not that bad. There are websites with superhelpful checklists and Mary’s brother is basically—”
“No,” he stops me. “I mean everything. All the time. Only you can balance school, a job, wedding planning, and wrangle the five of us jackasses. You’re a freak of nature, and I mean that in the best way possible.”
People say that so often. I’m anal-retentive, yes, obsessed with detail and control, but it isn’t easy for me. Not that anyone notices. Or cares.
“Thanks, I think? Honestly, if you were marrying anyone but Mary I would have told you to go fuck yourself.”
His tapping stops when he chuckles. “Why?”
“You don’t remember how much of an asshole you used to be. You were as bad as Brett.”
“That’s why you moved in with Jeremy?”
“And because you were a horny little shit and I didn’t want you humping my leg.”
He acknowledges the truth with a grin. “I wasn’t that bad.”
Ryan is the dark-haired, blue-eyed love interest of every rom-com. The Bad Boy who turns into the Nice Guy after he meets The Girl. Clichéd, but much appreciated. “She brings out the best in you. You bring out the best in each other.”
He looks down at his book, a smitten grin pulling at his lips. “Yeah?”
“Yes, idiot. Can we study now?” I go back to my book, finding where I left off at the same time his pen starts tapping again. I slam my hand onto it. “What, Ry?”
“Nothing.” When I hold my glare he answers, “It’s just . . . Mary’s not the only person who helped me grow up, you know.” His subtle way of complimenting me. Still, raising my friends isn’t the heartwarming achievement he thinks it is.
Over his shoulder, a curvy woman approaches, her black hair wrapped into her signature loose top bun. “Speak of the devil.”
Mary has a cup of coffee in each hand. “Hola, mi amor.” She leans down and kisses Ryan’s cheek. “I brought you some coffee.”
“You’re the best, baby.”
She hands him his cup and then extends the other to me. “Here you go, Teagan. An oat milk caffè latte, right?”
No, but her gesture is kind, nonetheless. “How did you know?” I look at Ryan. “You don’t deserve her.” Back to her. “You’re settling, Mary.”
She giggles. It’s a cute sound. “Oh, that’s not true,” she coos, running a hand over Ryan’s disheveled hair. “Good luck. I’ll see you later tonight?”
“Maybe tomorrow morning?” Ryan asks permission with a grimace.
She forgives him with a knowing smile. “Just say hi whenever you get home.”
“Okay.”
They kiss and I want to gag. “Ew, ew, gross, stop,” I tease them. Mary giggles again and walks away. “Your love is disgusting.”
“Oh, stop. You act like you don’t want to be in a relationship.”
“I don’t.”
“Really? So you didn’t spend five months trying to like Lenny because it was better than being single?”
“Excuse you! I mean, yes, probably, but excuse you.”
“See? You must get lonely when you spend all your time here and then go home to an empty bed.”
“Who says my bed is empty?”
He raises an eyebrow. “You have a new squeeze?”
He’s not new . “No.”
“You do! What’s their name? When do I get to meet them?”
I laugh for reasons he doesn’t need to know. “Okay, so what you’re doing right now is getting in my business and—”
“Come on, Teags. Give me something.”
I sigh, knowing he means well, but I added the nondisclosure clause to the contract for a reason. The second he finds out I’m with Heath the floodgates will burst open and I will never know another moment of peace. “It’s not a thing. Just let me get some dick, okay?”
“Lenny didn’t burn you out on men?”
“It’s purely out of convenience,” I quip. “I’m just trying to get through all the summer events without getting dry-spell rage, not to start something real. It’s not that deep.”
“Yeah, because no one ever falls for their rebound.”
“He’s not a rebound. It’s just sex.” I look at him for a response, but all he does is hum a sarcastic agreement. “You’re rude.”
“And you’re na?ve.”
We exchange playful smiles and get back to reading.
~
It’s two in the morning when I finally make it home. Jeremy left a note on the refrigerator like a boomer, saying he’ll be at Chet’s tonight. A shame he didn’t think to text me like a normal person, but it doesn’t make much of a difference. He already stays at Chet’s half of the time.
Climbing into bed with my clothes on, I flop onto my pillow and stare through my window. I’m exhausted, but my body is still stirring with my all-nighter second wind. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I stare at my last message to Heath, contemplating sending him another, but that’s not allowed.
Thursdays are not in our schedule, and though it’s technically Friday, it’s not within our agreed-upon window. I’d appreciate the chance to get it in after a long day, but it’s better this way. Sticking to the contract keeps our secret safe. It keeps me safe from everything else that might happen with Heath.
Behind the whirring sound of my window AC unit, Ryan’s words creep through my head. I’m not na?ve. Heath is not a rebound—I have nothing to rebound from. But am I lonely? Did I stay with Lenny because I didn’t want to be alone? Is it really sex that I want, or is it companionship and a warm body next to me?
Nah. Sex for sure.
I reach into my nightstand and pull out my vibrator.