13 – DinnerDessert?
Casey
“Dinner!” I call to the girls from the kitchen, and it feels an awful lot like I am a mother. I don’t mind cooking dinner every night. In fact, I love it and would promptly kick the other girls out of the kitchen if they tried it, but I also wouldn’t mind a meal cooked for me at some point, too.
“What’s on the menu, chef?” Rosie asks as she strolls in and plops herself at the dining table.
“Nothing fancy today, just spaghetti. I’m exhausted.”
“Oooo, big night?” Rosie gives me the waggly eyebrows and I scoff at her, turning back to the stove to plate up.
“Hardly. That Monday night wiped my whole week. I didn’t get home until 2am because I was busy being the DRA for a bunch of drunk idiots.” And I stayed up even later when I got home binge reading Jessie’s manuscript. But I don’t tell anyone that. “Then I’ve been covering all of Grace’s classes this week because she is sick.” She is actually pregnant, and can’t keep her food down right now, but she isn’t ready to tell people, so I keep the fact I’m going to be an aunty to myself. She hasn’t even told our parents! I was surprised when she called to tell me. Perhaps it is more because we are business partners and I needed to know why she couldn’t take her classes, but I fully expected to be the last person to find out. We aren’t close in the way Addy is with her sisters. We don’t socialize or talk like sisters; we don’t have sleep overs or visit each other. I don’t really know why, she just always kept me at a distance, and I let her.
“DRA?” Rosie questions.
“Designated Responsible Adult.” A collective, ahhh from the girls fills the room.
“Quiet weekend this time, then?” Addison asks, sitting down, joining Rosie. The rare night where she isn’t with Noah or he isn’t here. The two of them are usually inseparable.
“Actually, I have a date this weekend,” I say it on a sigh, like I’m not flipping out about it.
I discreetly downloaded SoulSwipe and managed to match with a guy named Ian. I deliberately kept this from Rosie because I knew she’d say something about how he sounds like a forty-five-year-old accountant and I’m in for a night of the worst sex of my life. But I really need this. Like, really, really need this.
I need to get a certain dirty blonde coffee brewing king out of my head so that I can function and behave like a normal single woman in her mid to late twenties. I need a… release because it has been too long and Little Casey is getting restless. I need a good man to take me properly and make me forget about the way Jay makes me feel like every nerve ending has been set on fire. I need to get over this stupid crush on a guy who is hung up on his ex, and most notably, not interested in me.
“Do tell?” Rosie says as I grab my plate and sit with them at the table.
“His name is Ian and—”
“Ugh, he sounds like a forty-year-old who believes the male orgasm is superior and women should be grateful for missionary,” Rosie grunts and I pat myself on the back for knowing her in advance.
“Actually, he is twenty-seven, so same age as us, he is in med school, and lives in the Upper East Side. His pictures made him look like a brunette Tom Hardy.”
“So, short king?” Rosie questions, and Addison and I both almost choke on our pasta as we laugh at her.
“I guess. He didn’t advertise his height and I really am not that bothered,” I reply.
Rosie nods, but her face suggests she isn’t done with her comments.
“Goodness me, Rosie, if you bite your tongue any harder you won’t be able to eat your dinner,” I coax her as Addy, expectantly, shovels pasta in her mouth without coming up for air.
“It’s just…”
“Don’t stall, spit it out,” Addison says over a mouthful of food.
“Well, I thought you had a thing with Jessie?” Rosie narrows her eyes at me, and Addison chokes, properly, on her food next to me.
I vacantly pat her back as she regains her air. “I don’t have a thing for Jessie.” I laugh, but it’s void of humor. Really, the response is, Jessie is still in love with his ex and too busy pining for her to notice me. Instead, I say, “We’re just friends.” Turning my attention to Addison before I continue. “You guys have been through a lot. You have Noah, Rosie, and me. Jessie didn’t really have anyone, so I figured we’d hang out. It’s no big deal. Really.” They both nod, except Rosie narrows her eyes and studies me. I had handed her the manuscript after I redacted Jessie’s name. She doesn’t know it’s him, but I wonder if she is suspicious at all. She looks at me now like she knows a secret.
Addison steals my attention by placing a hand on my arm.
“Thank you. For being there for him. I’m glad he has someone like you looking out for him.” She says it gently and smiles. It makes me feel warm but also guilty. She thinks I’m out there looking after her brother, but instead, I’m trying to actively get him out of my system. Dreaming about him, thinking about him while trying to sleep, while showering, while meditating. It was becoming a problem. I’ve surrendered to finding ways to distance myself from him. I have no idea how to be his friend and not physically want him. That was why I ended up on SoulSwipe. If I fell in love with someone else, I could be around Jessie without wanting him to touch me, without feeling like I can’t catch my breath or think properly.
My phone rings from my pocket and I reach to answer it, looking for any excuse to avoid talking about JJ any longer. “Sorry, have to get this.” I excuse myself from the table and answer as I duck into my room for a breath.
“Hello?” Oh yeah, there is someone on the other side of the call.
“Oh. Hi…” I pull the phone away and… fuck’s sake! I really can’t catch a break. “Jessie? What’s up?”
“I have a dinner with Mom in a week, and I was trying to work out what to take? I was instructed on a dessert. Help?” His tone is flat, there is shuffling in the background, and it makes my shoulders relax. The usual warm buzz his voice sends across my skin softens and slows my mind.
I bring my thumb nail to my mouth out of habit, except I see a flash of silver. Looking at my finger, I see the ring he slid onto my thumb last week when he showed up in the middle of my scheduled crying time. ‘ You’re exceptional. You don’t need to give in to those bullshit emotions.’ My stomach dips and flutters at the memory of Jessie holding me, saying those words and then just being in my space in a way that felt the opposite of intrusive. I didn’t feel smothered or embarrassed. It was just… nice.
“Ace?”
“Oh… sorry. What about those chocolate lava cakes we made? How many are you baking for?”
“Just Mom and me.” Why is that so sweet? I really need to sort my crap out.
“Let me look at my recipe book and I’ll flick you some options.” I smile through the phone. JJ making time for just him and his mom is special, especially after the horrible divorce and trauma she went through. This feels like something that should have some thought into it, something that deserves to be remarkable.
“No worries,” he says, but we both hang onto the line, or at least I do. By the sounds of it, he has me on speaker in the background and has probably forgotten about me.
“Thanks for Monday, for coming out with us,” I say, because I have no idea how else to bring it up. If he remembers how he got home or what was said. Whether he notices a missing manuscript. I instinctively use my pointer finger to twist the ring on my thumb, feeling it burn through all my betrayals.
Just as I feel like I’m about to come clean, Jessie speaks. “I’m sorry, Case.”
“What for?” I whisper, because my voice won’t work.
“For what I said about Jenny.”
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. You love her, it’s total—”
“I don’t, it’s not… she’s engaged. I found out that night, so it just…” My heart shatters and I blink back the tears. Stupid empathy tears because the love of his life is marrying someone else, and I forced him to come and be social. I’m an idiot.
“Oh, Jessie, I’m so sorry. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have forced you to come out. I’m so sorry.”
“Please don’t be sorry. It’s fine, really. She doesn’t mean anything to me anymore. It was just a shock.” He has always been good at lying to himself.
I say nothing, and neither does he. Just a few seconds of tense silence.
“Okay, Jay.” He releases a breath on the other line.
“Okay,” he says back.
What else is there to say? In this moment, though, I know I’m not going to let him hide again. Maybe we’ll both find our one true love and find a friendship, as well.
“Well, I better get back to the girls,” I say, awkwardly.
“Oh, of course… I’ll see you…” He ends the same way as last time and hangs up before I can say goodbye.
“You look incredible.” Ian leans closer to me at the bar of Bozzelli’s as we wait for our drinks. His hand rests respectfully on my hip as we stand toe to toe. He is, as Rosie had described, a ‘short king’. Even in my semi-heel, I am at least four inches taller. He is pretty though, like textbook pretty, I’m sure he could model for Calvin Klein, you can’t see height in photos.
“Thank you. You clean up well yourself.” I bite my lip and try my best to flirt, but at this point, it’s forced. Despite the way he appraises me, I still feel no attraction to Ian. I don’t feel the butterflies, I feel no desire to get naked. I do have a desire to experience sex ASAP, though. I need to get other images out of my head, so I’m betting on a drunk buzz to give me the desire to go home with Ian and hopefully find a release.
“So, you’re a yoga instructor?” he questions and leans closer, his hand roaming gently on my lower back. I wore a tiny dress that I wouldn’t normally wear, but I explained to Rosie it was a dire situation and she said this would be the one to end the spell, so here we are. “I am. My sister and I own a studio.” Creepy bartender guy from Noah’s party puts our drinks in front of us. He raises an eyebrow at my date and pointedly looks around, as though he is waiting for some tall lumberjack to come and chastise this guy, too. Honestly, he would if he saw. And I know it, too. Jessie might not be interested in me, but I know he still wouldn’t think much of Ian here.
“That mean you’re flexible?” And suddenly his touch on my skin feels like an acid burn.
I pull my lips into a tight smile and swallow the retort while nodding.
“Mhmm.”
“That’s hot.” Ugh. Men. “Feel like dancing?” he asks, while trailing his eyes down my body. I slam my drink on the bar, because I can’t seem to calm the frustration that builds inside me. “Sure.” I turn and pull his hand toward the dance floor and scan the area. I’m determined to get laid. If it isn’t with this man-child, it will be with someone else.
I pull my stupid date onto the stupid dance floor and let him crowd behind me. I let him put his hands on my hips as I tune out to the music around me. I close my eyes and will the ball of frustration out of my body through dance. I feel the movement and let the music wash over me. I pretend it’s just me here, enjoying the music and letting my body move as though it is an instinct–as though there isn’t a douche feeling me up right now. I open my eyes and the dance floor is packed. There are people everywhere. Rosie and her date are in here somewhere, because I refused to date without some kind of backup. As I scan the darkened dance floor, my eyes stop on a man to my left. Tall–or tall er than me–brown hair neatly combed and styled. He is wearing a shirt that gives away his muscular build, has a jawline that could cut glass, and a strong nose. Yum. There are those tummy flips I’ve been waiting for.
I hold his gaze, forcing my eyes to a half-mast, and decide to tease him with my current date. He hovers, a small smile pulling at his face as he narrows his eyes and sips from his glass of what looks like whiskey. His eyes tell me he knows the game I’m playing; his body language tells me he enjoys it.
I take a dip and grind my way down Ian, pushing my ass out as I come back up and sexy-tall guy smiles wider and winks. That’s my cue. I turn to Ian. “Going to the bathroom, be right back.” He looks a little disappointed, but shrugs and keeps dancing.
I look back to my left, and sexy-guy is nowhere to be seen. I head for the direction of the bathroom, anyway. If it was a missed opportunity, at least I can take a few breaths then bail.
As I head toward the bathroom, a hand wraps itself around my elbow and drags me into a dark corner. I yelp until the hand spins me into a hard body, and I meet the face of sexy-guy up close and personal. “Oh.” I breathe and bite my bottom lip. “I thought you bailed.”
“Not at all, just wanted to get you somewhere quieter.” He pulls me against his body and wraps his arms around me. My body is enjoying it, but something in my head is giving me red flags. I ignore the bells and whistles because that is why I have gone this long without sex. I can ignore red flags if it means good sex, right?
“Is that so?” I taunt him and lean in for a kiss as he reaches down and palms both ass cheeks. He leans down and takes my mouth in his. The kiss is both searing and dangerous. The kind of kiss that they write about in dirty romance novels, and it causes the red flags to turn to green as I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer.
“ Fuck, you’re hot,” he growls into my lips, and I claim him again, urgently, and his hands frantically search my back. One hand breaks away and comes to my front. “Can I touch you?” he whispers, and my heart starts rapidly beating out of my chest. I look to him and search his eyes. I imagine Rosie hearing this request and slapping me for pausing. Unable to verbally agree, because I’m worried I’ll chicken out, I nod, and he takes me in another kiss. His hand makes its way under the front of my dress and rubs gently at my center, over the top of my panties, eliciting a dirty moan I had no idea I was capable of releasing. The foreign noise snaps me from my daze and I push gently at his chest, “Wait. I—”
“Sorry, sorry.” He looks a little embarrassed, but still reaches for me and I let him.
“I just… I don’t even know your name.” A laugh tumbles out of me at the absurdity, and his smile grows to a whopping size that has me biting my lip. “Lane,” he says roughly. “Yours?”
“Casey,” I breathe, and he leans down and kisses me again.
“Casey.” He says it back to me like he is testing it out. “Feel like getting out of here, Casey?” God yes. I nod my head and he steals my lips with one more kiss before he turns and guides me out. On the way we run into Rosie.
“Um, bitch, that ain’t the guy you arrived with?” Her face pulls into a mischievous smile as her gaze widens and takes in Lane. I squeeze my eyes shut at being outed in swapping a date, but when I look back to Lane, apology in my eyes, he wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me to him as he leans down to Rosie.
“No, but it’s me she is leaving with.”
Rosie gasps audibly, forming an O with her mouth before she high fives me and leans in to whisper, “ Yes, bitch! Get it!”
I whisper back that I shared live location–we can be spontaneous, but we can also be vigilant.
Lane pulls me toward the front, and as we exit, I twirl to face him, his fingers interlaced with mine and that smile of his dangerous. “Where are you taking me, Lane?” I add a slight moan to the end of his name, which has it’s intended impact as he practically growls and hauls me against him, taking my mouth in another searing kiss as we walk slowly backward toward the street. We pull apart as he goes to answer my question, but we bump into someone.
“Oh, sorr—”
“Ace.” Oh god.
“Jessie. Oh… Hi!” The words squeak out of me at an embarrassingly high pitch. I shake my head and try again. “ Hi.” Okay, that was basically a growl. I am officially an idiot.
Despite doing nothing wrong, I feel strangely like I’m being busted doing something illegal. I plaster on a happy smile, like I’m so very pleased to see him. Except he is the last person I want to run into because, of course, everyone pales in comparison to him.
He is taller than Lane, sexier and more rugged than Lane. The word dirtier comes to mind, even though, technically speaking, he is actually clean.
But he just… he just… ugh . You just know it’d be dirty with him, and I hate that now I’m thinking about it… again.
“What are you doing out tonight?” I ask sweetly and wait for the moment where I can imply to Lane that this is not my boyfriend.
“Catching up with an old friend.” He gestures to the stunning blonde next to him and that stupid unwanted pit of sour gummy worms falls heavy in my stomach. Jessie is on a date. Of course he is on a date; I’m also on a date.
Because we’re friends.
Nothing more.
He might be hung up on his ex, but at least he’s found someone to help him pass the time.
I get itchy skin at the sadness trying to take me down. At the very solid reminder that I wasn’t good enough to be that person for him. That he could never look at me and see anything other than his little sister’s friend.
I nod at him and smile. “Well, Lane and I were just leaving.” I gesture to my date and step into his embrace, which seems to perk up his ego, and he wraps an arm around my shoulders.
He awkwardly nods his head at Jessie before looking down at me and smiling. “Should we go?” he asks, except it feels like he is asking something else, something like, are you sure you’re leaving with me?
“Yep!” I look back to Jay. “See you around?” I plaster my best smile on and will my heart to slow. Jessie scrunches up his face, but, in a second, the look gone back to that same solid indifference that makes my heart sink. I don’t know what I expected. Jealousy? Him to throw a caveman-level tantrum about Lane having his hands on me? Why would he, though?
He levels Lane with a severe look, delivering some kind of message that Lane seems to answer with his eyes. Whatever transpires between them, it seems to be enough because Jessie looks back at me. “Yeah, I’ll see you.” Before he nudges his date with his elbow and they enter the bar. He never introduced me to her. She didn’t say a thing, just smiled and looked at her shoes like she was trying not to laugh. Stupid bitch. I’ll give you something to laugh about.
Ugh. I’m sure she is a super nice lady, and probably not a bitch at all, but for whatever reason, I can’t seem to reconcile that with this stupid jealousy.
As Jessie leaves and I try to reign in my facial features and the abundance of mixed feelings, Lane pulls his phone out and orders an Uber.
Between the cool night air and the run in with Jessie, I’m feeling very sober. “You good, red?” Lane coos into my ear, causing goosebumps to trail my skin. I turn into his embrace and ignore the odd nickname. He rests his hands on my lower back as I wrap my arms around his neck, walking us backward so he leans against the outside wall of Bozzelli’s as we wait for the Uber.
“I’m good,” I whisper and steal a chaste kiss. He smiles into it, then pulls back to analyze my eyes.
“What?”
“Who was that?” He nods in the direction Jessie left.
“My, my, Lane, are you jealous?” I tease and bite my lip as I curl the back of his hair with my fingers. He laughs gently and uses his hands to grab a fistful of my ass.
“Not at all, sweetheart. But I think he was.”
“Oh, no.” I laugh at his insane assumption. “He is my friend’s older brother. We’re just friends,” I explain.
“Mmhmm. I’m sure he only sees you as a friend,” he says, that sexy smile still in place, his hands still searching.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, he looked at me like he was ready to clock me. He looked at you like you were dinner.” He hums the words in my ear, not even dirty talk and it has me shivering. Probably because I’m picturing Jessie, and me, and—
“And how about you ?” because I desperately need to not picture Jessie right now.
“What about me?”
“What do you think about me?” I trail a finger across his jawline and let my eyes wander his pristine face.
“Mmmm, I think you’d be perfect for dessert.” He says it into my lips before he steals them in another kiss. A car pulls up behind me and I pull out of his embrace, walking backward to the car.
“Let’s find out, shall we?”
“Oh, sweetheart, you’re speaking my language.” He follows me into the Uber, and we make it safely to his house.
And I do everything I possibly can to not think about Jessie.