Chapter 3
Three
Sadie
“ H e said that?” Sage asks as she dries glasses behind the bar.
“Yes!” I reply as I fold pamphlets for tomorrow night’s demonstration. “He was a total asshat.”
“Luke? Really?” Her dark brows are pinched together as if she’s trying to imagine the entire scenario I just spelled out for her.
“Yes, Luke.”
“But he’s always so quiet and nice. I can’t even imagine him being so rude.”
I shrug. “Well, apparently, Luke and Dr. Goode are two different people.”
“Huh,” she says nonchalantly as she appears to contemplate it some more. “Are you going to drop his class?”
“I can’t,” I reply. “I’ve been putting off the English credits I need for my business degree, and that’s the only class that will fit into my schedule. If I drop it, I’ll have to graduate a year later than planned.”
“Bummer,” she says with her mouth twisted in disappointment.
“Yeah, major bummer.”
This entire week has been shit. First, there was that totally awkward encounter with Jax on Saturday night. He hasn’t texted me back since, and I’m trying not to take it personally, but before that lifeless quickie in the Ethereal Room, he and I would chat almost daily. Sure, it was mostly about the club and his visit, but now he won’t reply to me at all.
Then, Monday morning rolled around, and Luke—sorry, Dr. Goode —had to go and remind me that all men do, in fact, suck.
I don’t know why I even try. It feels like everywhere I look for love or attention is one letdown after another. Not that I was looking at Luke for any chance of romance—hard pass—but I’m just so tired of being hopelessly disappointed over and over again by men.
For once, I just want a man to surprise me. Blow me away.
My standards could not be lower.
I mean…look at Sage and Adam. She should have hated him for the way he was before they got together. He was pompous, ignorant, and self-righteous. But then he had to go and fall in love with her, and now they’re married with a baby on the way, and he treats her like the queen she is. He’d kiss the floor for her.
I’m not asking for anyone to kiss the floor. But, I don’t know, just be nice to me. If a man said one nice thing about me, I’d probably marry him on the spot. That’s how low the bar is at the moment.
Is it me?
No. Surely not. I have so much to offer, even if I do tend to show up late for everything and never seem to have my shit together. And I still live at home with my family.
Okay, other than that, I manage a sex club, and I’m damn good at it. I get stellar grades at school. I have a luscious ass that I’m pretty proud of, and I have gotten a lot of compliments on my blow job skills .
All things considered, I should have men knocking down my door. But I refuse to settle, and every day it feels more and more like that’s what is going to be expected of me.
“So…” Sage says, letting her voice trail.
I tense, afraid of where that tone is going.
“Are we going to talk about Saturday night?” she asks.
Fuck .
I drop my head, unable to look her in the eye. “Shit, Sage. I’m sorry. I know I crossed a line with him, but I just had a lapse in judgment and he was so hot and?—”
“Sadie, relax,” she says, touching my arm. “You’re not in trouble. I figured you had something going on with him. I just want to check in and make sure you’re okay.”
I stand upright and stare at her with softness in my eyes. “Really? You’re not mad?”
With a scoff, she tilts her head. “No. Of course not. I trust you to do what’s best for the club. What you do with your body on your own time isn’t my business. But as your friend…is everything okay?”
My brows fold inward. “Of course,” I reply too eagerly.
“How was it?” she asks with a lift in the corner of her mouth. Leaning back, she winces as she rubs the top of her belly as if she’s trying to separate her stomach from her rib cage. God, pregnancy looks miserable and amazing at the same time.
My mouth opens to reply, but the words don’t come out. Finally, I manage to stammer out a response. “I mean…he’s Jax Kingston. What do you think?”
I can tell by Sage’s expression that she doesn’t entirely buy my response. “Will you see him again?”
“I hope so. I really do want him to come back to the club to film his content here.”
“I don’t care about that,” Sage replies. “But if he hurts you, I’ll kill him.”
“Whoa!” I say with a laugh. “You’re cute when you’re murderous. ”
With a flirty smirk, she poses with her hands under her chin, making her look both angelic and a little unhinged. I’m laughing out loud when I feel my phone buzz in my back pocket.
Pulling it out, I see my brother Jonah’s name on the screen.
Guess who made the soccer team again.
“Shut up,” I mutter to myself as I read his message. Quickly, I type out my response.
Congratulations!!!
Not that I’m surprised. You’re a natural.
The typing bubbles pop up immediately, followed by his response.
Thanks. SMILE EMOJI. I LOVE YOU IN SIGN LANGUAGE EMOJI.
THREE I LOVE YOU EMOJIS.
I’m off tomorrow night. We have to celebrate.
That’s what Mom said, too.
You pick the place, and I’ll be there.
I’m grinning proudly at my phone before sliding it back into my pocket. Jonah really is a natural. He’s been playing soccer since he was three years old, but every year, he acts like suddenly they’re going to stop picking him for the team.
My little brother is unstoppable. He excels at everything he attempts. My parents couldn’t be prouder of him and everything he accomplishes. And it has nothing to do with how much harder Jonah has to work at everything or how much he’s overcome. He’s perfect in every way .
Meanwhile, I’m twenty-five. I live at home. I’m single, and it feels like everything I attempt, I fail at. Sure, I manage a sex club, but I can’t tell them that. They think I work the night shift at a nightclub. And even that they don’t approve of, but they don’t bother fighting with me about it anymore.
I just want to do something that will make them proud. Graduate college. Find a nice partner. Buy my own house.
Instead, I fell into bed with a guy I just met who won’t text me back now. I pissed off my English professor. And I continue living in my little brother’s shadow.
“So when do you have Luke’s class again?” Sage asks, drawing my attention away from my self-destructive thoughts.
“Tomorrow,” I reply. “Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Lucky me.” My tone is dripping with sarcasm—a language my friend and I speak fluently.
“Yikes,” she says with a wince. “Well, if it were me—and this is not meant to be advice—I would give him hell. Show him you’re not just some meek woman he can boss around and treat like garbage.”
Smiling to myself, I fold another pamphlet and let those words sink in. I don’t say this out loud, but I can’t help but think… Maybe I do want someone to boss me around. I mean…not in a degrading or dehumanizing way. But sometimes, I wish someone would tell me exactly what to do.
“He doesn’t treat me like garbage,” I mumble quietly.
“Okay, then, what would you call it?” she asks.
Thinking for a moment, I realize the answer stings even worse than him treating me like garbage.
“He treated me like he expected better from me.”