1. Misely
one
Misely
T he come down after an orgasm never failed to surprise me with how utterly unremarkable it felt. It didn’t matter if my partner had me screaming out to God only moments before—when it was all over, I felt…absolutely nothing. The tingles faded, my breathing evened, and my thoughts returned to me exactly as they had been before our clothes had hit the floor.
Don’t get me wrong, I could talk a great game. I had a ridiculously sexy man panting beside me, a hoarse chuckle bursting from his chest. He turned his head to face me, a breathless boyish grin spread across his face, softening his sharp brown eyes.
“You are amazing.” This was the same compliment he paid me every time we hooked up. I wasn’t sure if he realized he never tried anything different, that it was always the same three words, and I didn’t know if he cared. I knew that I didn’t.
“So are you,” I said, mirroring his smile. It didn’t matter that I only sort of meant it. Sure, the sex was good. Above average, for sure. Didn’t change the fact that I’d had better and that the moment it ended, it ended . But nobody wanted to hear that. They didn’t want to hear that they were ‘above average’ or that the second they rolled off you, you wanted them to get dressed and leave.
They wanted to hear that they were amazing and the best fuck of your life, and nine times out of ten, they wanted to cuddle. And if that cuddle turned into round two? Even better. That is what most people can content themselves with when engaging in casual sex with a partner. I had yet to find the stereotypical bed partner who would do me the absolute luxury of just going afterwards and I was far too kind to kick them out right away.
Unfortunately for me, Brantley Corrigan had proven to be a stage five clinger.
“Amazing enough to finally agree to that date?” There was such an earnest pleading to his tone that Misely from a year ago would have caved, if only just to appease him for a moment.
Misely from a year ago would have talked herself into it with placating thoughts like, It’s just one date, what’s the harm? Or He’s such a nice guy. Or He’s not James, he’s actually trying to spend time with you.
But that was Misely from a year ago. Now I didn’t do things just to take the easy route or to relish in another person’s affections. Now I fully thought my actions through. I had let myself get caught up in the hopes and dreams and wants of my ridiculous infatuation with James Moore, and look just how that turned out. I had convinced myself that I was going to be a lawyer’s wife, that we were going to spend our lives together. What basis did I have for this very committed belief? Because we had frequent sex and we loved each other?
I wasn’t even sure that last part was true anymore. It didn’t matter. James had finally put an end to my girlish fantasies, and I’d finally listened. I hit the rebound hard, and for a while I thought I was doing okay.
Until dark hair, piercing golden brown eyes, and broad tattooed arms with a nasty glare walked into that bar like he owned the place. That’s when I decided there was something truly and deeply wrong with me. Because for the brief few seconds where we held eye contact, I allowed myself to think, This is why it would never have worked out with James.
And how fucked up is it that I was willing to throw out ten years of yearning for a man whose name I didn’t even know and who just walked into a bar with a crazed drug dealer? I watched him threaten my best friend’s boyfriend and still, all I could think was, This one. I want this one.
That was the moment I decided that I couldn’t be trusted to make those sorts of decisions for myself. That I needed to take a step back and stop falling in love with every man or woman who looked at me like they could eat me, because it was never going to lead to the alter. It was never going to lead to that unconditional love that I craved. So, I wasn’t going to date. I wasn’t going to want. Sex? Sure. I wasn’t going to be completely unreasonable—a woman has needs.
It had been surprisingly easy to follow my own rules, especially once I packed up and moved. Chicago was a lot bigger than the small town where I’d taken up residence with my best friend, Birdie. Once she’d taken flight and moved out west, I knew it was time for me to go too. Chicago was the obvious next step for me with a lot more opportunity for me to make a difference with at risk children, and let’s face it—a lot more people who are perfectly okay with engaging in one-night stands with no strings attached.
That is, of course, until Brantley Corrigan slammed into me like a freight train in the parking lot on my first day of work. Apparently his office presided in the same building as mine and we’d both had our heads buried in our phones as we rushed to make inside to our respective jobs on time. He’d been worming his way into my good graces ever since, starting with keeping my sheets warm.
“Misely,” he said, sharper than usual.
I cursed, apologizing. He was used to me zoning out on him, but I imagine it was frustrating.
“I can’t, I’m sorry,” I said gently in response to his earlier question. It was the fourth time he’d asked, and I could see in his expression he was reaching his limit. Guilt threatened to tip me over the edge, but I swallowed it down. If I couldn’t even maintain a buzz after he’d fucked me senseless, there was no way I’d be able to even attempt anything substantial with him.
“I’m not in the right head space for a relationship.”
“I’m not asking for more than a date, Misely.” The bitterness was there in his tone, but so was the eagerness. Again, the scales wobbled, my heart beating irregularly in my chest. I hated this. I hated letting people down.
Swallowing down the acquiesce, I forced myself to meet his gaze. “I know that. But I am telling you that right now, I can’t say yes.”
His eyes bounced from one of mine to the other, the carefree bliss from moments before lost from his expression. His stubble free jaw ticked, the moments passing agonizingly slow while he decided on his response. Shock froze me when his hand, soft and warm cupped my cheek, a thumb stroking the skin there.
“Then I’ll wait for you to change your mind.”
I blinked, my mouth opening to protest that he shouldn’t waste his time, but before I could utter a single word he was rolling off the bed and closing himself in my adjoining bathroom. When he came out, he was fully dressed in the suit he’d been wearing when he’d shown up at my door. Brantley dropped a kiss on my forehead and left without another word, leaving me to stew with my silent objections.
Alisha : ur kidding. He just left u there?
Misely : yep.
Alisha : gotta hand it to u. I never thought the problem would be that u didn’t want them to commit to u.
Misely : Nobody said anything about commitment.
Alisha : My bad. Musta been a different Misely Fisher that was obsessed with the picket fence I was determined of that.
Patti and I walked out of the conference room together, our bags and paperwork in hand. “Why did you come to Chicago Children’s? It sounds like you were really devoted to Found Family?”
The City of Chicago Children’s Center was an honorable, reputable program dedicated to stepping in and protecting at risk youth. I was honored to have landed a spot with them as a social worker, every child on my case load dear to my heart. But Found Family was a next level, revolutionary organization. It was admittedly incredibly intimidating.
The woman beside me was quiet for a moment, contemplating her response. “I was. For a long time, that was my home. My calling.”
“I sense a ‘but’ coming.”
She chuckled. “ But , Mr. Wyatt asked for my help. Chicago Children’s is important to him, which is why he is such an ass at times. He needed me, so I came.” It felt like she was still holding out on me, but it didn’t seem as though she was willing to divulge further. I decided to shelve it for now and change the subject.
“Would you like to grab a cup of coffee with me? I found this really great place just a few blocks over and they have the best scones I’ve ever had.”
Patti’s eyes snapped to mine and she considered for long moments before finally, “Yeah, yes. That’d be great.”
Discreetly I let out a sigh of relief, my lips trembling into a grin. “Wonderful. I have a few cases that need my attention, but I’m free at ten. Does that work?”
She pulled out her phone and checked her calendar before confirming, and then we each went our own ways, a renewed sense of hope settling in my chest.