Chapter Nineteen
Bobbi
Since deciding to be more serious about my manifestation, I’ve been getting up twenty minutes earlier than usual, while the sky’s still dark. I close my eyes and sit crossed-legged on the floor of my bedroom, a pillow under my butt.
“Breathe in… Breathe out… Imagine yourself as the tide on a moonlit night…” The new meditation app has a soothing, hypnotic voice. I follow instructions, trying to settle my mind. Gotta shake off what happened on Saturday. Monday marks a brand-new week, which means a brand-new start.
You can do this. Visualize your future…
“Breathe in…”
I inhale slowly, trying for tidal, recalling how Noah sounded with his face buried in my neck. His breathing was labored. Desperate almost, as he worked his fingers inside me. And my breathing matched his, growing shallow, rough and strained.
Hot goosebumps break out over my back. I bite my lip.
“Breathe out…”
I try to expel the filthy imagery from my mind along with the air from my lungs. It doesn’t work.
Noah’s hot breath fanned my bare skin as he groaned at my climax, likehe was the one coming.
Although I acted like what happened in that fancy bathroom didn’t mean anything, I was shaken to my core by how easily my body succumbed to his touch. He”s always known exactly where to caress, how to seduce me. I’ve been helpless against him, and he’s used it to his fullest advantage.
I’m still not sure why he didn’t finish the job. There was a moment before that weird woman showed up, dying to have his baby. In that mindless state I would’ve welcomed his cock. And he had to know that.
Liquid heat pools between my legs as I remember what he can do with his dick. I squirm. I’m not letting what could’ve been from Saturday derail my meditation. I’m going to create the future I deserve.
I curl my fingers around the ring hanging from my neck. There. That should help me center myself.
“Breathe in…”
Breathe in becomes begone. Begone, Noah! I focus on the words like they have an exorcistic power. My new mantra.
But no. As air fills my lungs, I get the craziest urge to huff it all out with a sexual shudder. My pussy clenches, like it’s looking for the fingers that aren’t there anymore.
Damn it, I’m too fucking wet for this!I scream soundlessly, frustrated beyond belief that I’m too turned on to meditate. I open my eyes, stop the app and clench my fists hard. Why? Why? All I’m trying to do is meditate, get rid of the toxicity in my mind and focus on the future I want.
So what if he can make me come? Why am I letting him affect me like this?
“So what”? It was the best damn orgasm you’ve had in the last year. And he was only using his fingers.
Argh!It’s Noah’s fault my peaceful existence has been disrupted. The day he reappeared, Lorcan decided to break into my house. And then because Noah put his face over my perfect vision board husband, I somehow ended up with Mr. Sweet Potato Hair, a.k.a. Joey the Fake Profile Photo because the universe and I got our wires crossed. Now Noah’s a mind-worm I can’t get rid of.
It’s Monday morning for God’s sake. I don’t need to be horny! Especially over a guy who has a woman panting after him for babies. He acted like he had no idea who she was and was repulsed. But I’m too jaded now to buy that act. For all I know, if I threw myself at him like that he might shove me away, too. He just wants the thrill of the chase. And then, if he actually gets me, he’ll ghost me. Again. That’s his MO.
Plus, that woman was everything I’m not. She’s shorter, with the kind of archetypical feminine curves around her huge breasts and flaring pelvis I’m never going to have. She has a small pixie-like face with a slightly pointy chin, and an overly lush mouth. She could be more his type, as long as she doesn’t turn clingy. Bet he was too busy with her to come to the bakery opening. The thought is both infuriating and painful. I wasted my love on a man who doesn’t deserve it, and even knowing the kind of person he is, I let him finger me.
I head to the bathroom to grab a quick shower. Mediation obviously isn’t happening today. I resist the urge to touch myself because if I do, I’ll be thinking of what happened on Saturday, and I’ll be damned if I masturbate to that finger-fuck with Noah.
No!I’m going to shower like a good girl, dress like a boss, and get through the day like a goddess entrepreneur. Because that’s who I’ve decided to be.
I put on a black sleeveless top and black jeans, and make sure to place Band-Aids over the hickeys Noah left on my neck. Just pulling my hair forward won’t keep them hidden. I was so embarrassed when I saw them after I came home because Eugene must’ve noticed. But he didn’t mention it, like the gentleman that he is. He carried on with our conversation like Noah’s interruption never happened.
You know what? I’m going to manifest a guy who’s better in bed than Noah. Who can make me come by just sucking on my breasts—
Of course… Noah has done that a few times…
Okay, STOP!Oh my God. I’m never going to manifest a proper sex-machine husband if I keep thinking about Noah!
I head to Bobbi’s Sweet Things. Despite the less-than-ideal start to my Monday, everything comes out of the oven a delicious golden brown, and the bakery is soon replete with the comforting, mouth-watering scent of freshly baked goodies.
Mmm. Perfect.
Victor arrives, and we have a quick breakfast. The regulars begin to show up, and they snap up the still-warm croissants and Danishes along with the basic complimentary coffee we give out in the morning to any paying customer.
After the morning rush is over, I relax a little. Maybe the day isn’t totally lost after all. “That went pretty well,” I say.
“Yeah.” Victor smiles. “I can’t believe Amy bought two boxes of croissants for the office.”
I grin. “Seven thirty sharp, just like always.” She works in VC, but a lot of others from her firm come over to grab stuff around lunch time. “Those finance people… They love their carbs.”
A young blonde in a UCLA T-shirt walks in, smiling shyly. She comes here for Victor, so I let him help her. It’ll be cool if he finds love with somebody sweet who’s his age.
Then the door chimes again and TJ walks in, clad in a black suit that barely fits him. I swear, if he has to take a swing at someone those shoulder seams are going to rip right out. He needs to quit buying suits off the rack, but he’s a cheapskate when it comes to clothes.
“Hey you,” I say.
He gives me a good squeeze, that lets me know he’s got my back. “Looking good. Smells like sugar in here.”
“Well, this is a bakery.”
“That must be it.” He pulls back, then frowns. “What happened to your neck?”
“Oh, that? Just…a couple of mosquito bites.” Not telling TJ what happened with Noah on Saturday. Way too embarrassing and nothing good would come of it. Those meaty paws of his are murder weapons.
“Well, that sucks.”
“Uh-huh. Literally.”
“Gotta be careful. Those fuckers carry all sorts of diseases.”
“I know,” I say quickly before he lists all the horrible medical conditions I could develop. TJ is slightly hypochondriac, and he often looks up diseases on Google, supposedly for “reference.” He hasn’t realized yet that according to Google, even a sneeze can be fatal. I gesture at the gorgeous cupcakes, Danishes and croissants. “Want something?”
“Don’t guess there’s any apple pie…?”
“You know I don’t make those here.” I used to, but they weren’t that profitable. My customers prefer cupcakes and muffins.
He heaves a sigh, but the twinkle in his eyes betrays him. “Fine. I’ll take blueberry and chocolate cupcakes, four each. And five croissants.”
I put the cupcakes in a box so the butter cream frosting remains intact, but place the croissants in a big paper bag.
“You sure you don’t need help with those tiles?” TJ says.
“Maybe I already finished the job.”
“Nah. You’ve been too busy. Ivy told me you stopped by their house, then went ring shopping and had dinner with Eugene. When would you have the time to rip out your kitchen floor?”
“You just want free apple pie.”
“Obviously,” he says shamelessly.
I smile. “Even if I needed your help, you’d have to wait. The tiles I ordered are taking forever.”
“What’s up with that?”
“Who knows? The store said the supplier is late with their shipment, so…” I shrug.
“Want me to look into it for you?”
“So you can use Tony’s connections and take all the credit?”
“Hey, I’ll get you those tiles. You just bake that pie.”
“Ha! I might if you promise to make buffalo wings with your secret sauce this weekend.” I’m heading to his place to hang out with him, his girlfriend Cassie and Josie.
“I can do even better. I’ll have that raspberry beer you like so much, too. That deserves…” He pretends to add something up in the air. “At least two pies.” He gives me a hopeful look.
I slap his shoulder, laughing. “Fine, fine. I’ll bring plenty of everything because otherwise us ladies won’t get any. And Buster can have some, too.” TJ’s golden retriever has never met someone he couldn’t fall in love with, except when TJ orders him to attack. I don’t know how my cousin managed to turn him into an attack golden retriever, but apparently he has his own methods.
“You’re gonna make him too fat and lazy to bite bad guys in the ass.”
“Don’t be jealous just because he loves me more than you.” In my peripheral vision, I notice a customer leave and a new one come in.
“Can I help you?” Victor says.
“I’m here for my fiancée.”
Annoyance tugs my eyebrows together as I turn. I didn’t want to deal with Noah right now, and most especially not in front of TJ. My cousin has never met Noah before, and I’d prefer to have kept it that way. An overprotective TJ is an overbearing TJ.
My cousin’s jaw drops. “You’re got engaged and didn’t tell me?”
“No, of course not. He doesn’t speak English natively, so he confuses fiancée with…” I try to think of some plausible word since “enemy” will only start a scene with TJ.
“The love of his life?” Noah says, unhelpful as usual. “His future wife?”
TJ looks even more confused.
“Baker,” I say with a fake smile, then turn to Noah. “What are you doing here? Where’s your Rim-Me blow-up doll?”
My cousin makes a choking sound.
Noah’s expression remains sweet, his eyes shining as he looks at me. He must’ve taken some acting lessons in the last several months. “Bobbi, Rammi was an unfortunate misunderstanding. Really.”
“Is that what you call the future mother of your children?” My voice is sweeter and smoother than the butter cream on TJ’s cupcakes. Thankfully my cousin doesn’t try to stick himself between me and Noah. He tends to stay out of the way if he doesn’t understand the situation, unless there’s an imminent threat of violence.
“She most definitely isn’t pregnant,” Noah says. “At least, not by me. Anyway, I was in the neighborhood and wanted to check up on myfiancée and get a croissant. Which you have.” He gestures at the single one left.
I turn to TJ with a smile, this time genuine. “Since you’ve been such a great customer, I’m throwing this croissant in. Enjoy.”
His dark eyes slide between me, Noah, then back. He shrugs his massive shoulders. “Yeah, sure. Thanks.”
Noah languidly watches me put the last croissant into TJ’s bag. He isn’t upset about it. What’s going through that mind of his? “I’ll pay you a grand for that croissant,” he says to TJ.
“Uh…”
“I’ll trade you five apple pies for it,” I say.
TJ shoves his meaty hand into the bag and gives me the croissant back.
As I take the flaky pastry, I let my fingers go limp. The poor thing falls with a plop on the floor. “Oops.”
“You still owe me five pies,” TJ says quickly, clear on what’s important.
At the same, Noah says, “Three-second rule!”
“Of course,” I say to TJ as I take a step forward and stomp on the croissant. Then I slide my foot around, smearing the croissant over about five square feet of floor. “Oh, darn. I slipped.”
Noah looks at me like I stomped on his heart. “Cruel. Very cruel. You didn’t have to do that, Bobbi.”
“Actually, I did.” It’s all I can do not to throw Rammi in Noah’s face. The only reason I don’t is that I don’t want him to know I still have unresolved feelings about him. That’d be too humiliating.
TJ’s brow has begun to knit with suspicion. “Is this guy bothering you?” He shifts his body so he’s partially shielding me from Noah, which is completely unnecessary. The only thing Noah has done is break my heart over and over again, and there’s nothing TJ can do to protect that particular bit of my anatomy.
“Nope. And he’s going to leave now, before I call the police. Noah?” I say, indicating the door. But the second the name slips from my mouth, I wince. Shit. Now TJ knows who it is.
TJ scowls at Noah like he’s a rat he’d love to trample on. I shake my head at him—an incident at the bakery would not be good for business. Still, his nostrils flare and hot air puffs out, like an angry bull. His eyes rake Noah up and down, then he tilts his head like whatever he’s seeing doesn’t compute.
“Is this the loser you’ve been wasting your life over?” he demands.
“It’s called having feelings for someone,” Noah says. “And I care about her, too.”
The added part cuts me, and I try to keep my expression calm. How easy it is for him to say what he doesn’t mean, and how irritating is it that I’m so affected by it. “TJ…” I lace my voice with a warning. No way am I letting my cousin get into a discussion about how much Noah managed to hurt me. I have my pride. “You want those apple pies or not?”
“Fine.” He whips around and sticks a finger in Noah’s face. “You hurt her, I’ll fucking kill you. Slowly.” He stalks out without waiting for a response, the baked goods clutched in his hands.
“Did he pay for that?” Noah asks, like it’s the most unfair thing in the world.
“Doesn’t need to. Unlike you, he’s special.”
“I understand. Some of us have special needs. You going to marry him?”
I can’t help smirking. Wait until I tell my cousins this weekend. We’ll have a good laugh over our chicken wings and apple pies. “What’s it to you?”
“He can’t give you the kind of life you want.”
“Oh, really? You just real sure about that? He’s been here for me more than you. He was here when the bakery opened. And in case you’re wondering, he also came to get me from the hospital when you couldn’t bother to show up.”
Guilt fleets over his gorgeous face, soon replaced by determination. “A man who can be controlled with an apple pie isn’t somebody you want as a life partner.”
“Don’t worry. He only reacts like that to my apple pie, not just any pie.” I give him a thin smile. “Unlike some people.” Unlike you.
“I’ve been faithful to you.”
I laugh. “Right. I’m supposed to believe you haven’t had sex in a year.”
“That’s right.” His response is immediate and firm.
“And Rim-Me is…what?”
“Nothing. I’m telling you, she really was a misunderstanding. Some hired hooker or whatever.”
“Uh-huh. Look, stop with the lies.” If he hadn’t had any in a year, he wouldn’t have let me go like that at the steakhouse. Rammi or no Rammi, he would’ve screwed me until we both turned into puddles of goo. He was always insatiable in bed.
“It’s not a lie, Bobbi.”
“I’m supposed to believe you can’t bother to keep your promises, but you’ve remained ‘faithful’ to me for over a year?”
“Yes.”
I snort. “Well, I haven’t.” It’s sort of untrue. I’ve gone on a few dates, but I haven’t had sex with anyone else since I met Noah. There’s no way I’m admitting that to him, though. It’d only encourage him.
He shakes his head with a small laugh. “Don’t lie to me. I know you, Bobbi.”
His confidence irritates me although I’ll be damned if I let him know he hit the mark. “Think what you want. Like I said, you aren’t part of my manifested future.”
“That’s too bad, because you are part of mine. So what happens when two people are manifesting two conflicting visions?”
“You quit.” I point my finger at him. “Or you forget about me. You’re good at that.”
“Or whoever manifests harder wins.”
“Listen, I’ve been working on my future a lot longer than you. You butting in uninvited because you suddenly can’t stand the idea of not having ready access to me every time you’re bored isn’t going to make a particle of difference.”
Noah looks at me like I stuck a knife in his gut. “I’m not doing this out of boredom. I told you I love you.”
It requires a lot of control to hide the pain his empty confession of love brings. But it doesn’t matter how outwardly sincere he seems. There’s always something he loves more than me, and I want to be first on my future husband’s priority list. “Well, here’s the thing, Noah. I don’t believe you.”
“You say that now, but I’ll convince you.”
He looks at me with an unbelievable amount of earnest confidence, like he’s certain he can make me see things his way.
“You know that guy who just walked out? He can shoot straighter than you. He’s been here for me more than you. Much more. I don’t want to hit a big milestone that I’ve worked hard to achieve, and then feel disappointed because you didn’t show up to celebrate with me.” Finally, the bravado leaches from his expression. But instead of bringing me vindication and satisfaction that I scored a point, it makes me a little sad and more determined than ever to insulate myself from the effect he has on me. “You not showing up for the opening here was the last straw. I have no reason to stay in a relationship where I’m just your…” I can’t think of anything appropriate. “…emotional punching bag.”
“Bobbi, I’m sorry.” His voice is solemn.
The apology carries a gravitas that I didn’t think he was capable of. The air in my lungs goes still even as something in my heart stirs. He means it. Part of me wants to give him a chance. But I just can’t convince myself that he’s capable of changing. “I’ll accept your apology if you’ll stay away.”
“No deal.”
“What?”
“I’m not staying away, Bobbi.”