20. Stevie
twenty
stevie
SITTING AT MY desk, with all of my jewelry-making supplies around me, I pick up a citrine crystal.
Citrine is one of my favorites.
Its warm yellow hue has always brought me joy, and it’s believed to attract abundance and increase positivity. Both very good things.
I take a bead and thread it onto the elastic cord. This design is one of my simpler ones, but customers love it. It’s like a more sophisticated friendship bracelet.
With the money Hunter’s given me so far, I’ve been able to place some ads for my jewelry business on social media. And they’ve paid off. Big time.
Sales have already increased, and with Black Friday coming up next month, I’m confident I’ll have a great holiday season. I can’t believe how much my luck has changed since September.
I’ve stopped looking for part-time work, instead concentrating on my schoolwork, and my grades have gone up. I have more time to study, grow my business, and just rest. It all feels very indulgent. But I’m not mad about it.
Hunter and I have also been spending a lot of time together.
That weird week when we weren’t speaking is thankfully behind us. We text each other every day and see each other a few times a week. I go to all of his hockey games at home, wearing his jersey.
I don’t want to admit how much I like him, even to myself.
It almost feels like a dream, and if I acknowledge it, the dream will end. Waiting for the other shoe to drop has been a constant theme in my life, and this situation is no different.
I just have this feeling that I can’t shake – that he’ll tire of me and drop me, and I’ll be so heartbroken. Sometimes I want to put distance between us, but then I end up texting him or replying to his text anyway. I have no chill.
Today he’s off at an away game, so I have some space. Except he’s been texting me nonstop from the bus. And every time a text comes in, I get butterflies. I almost can’t bear it.
Hunter
I wish you were with me right now. Straddling me, your tits in my face.
Me
With all your teammates watching?
Hunter
I’ll kill them if they look at you. But, yeah, I wanna fuck you on the bus.
Me
You’re insane
Hunter
Don’t pretend you’re not turned on
Me
We should fuck on the ice LOL
Hunter
Yes. I should tie you to the goal post and eat you out. I want to hear your moans echoing throughout the arena.
I clamp a hand over my mouth, blushing furiously. Thank goodness he can’t see me. I abandon my bracelet and get on my bed, squirming. I hate it when he makes me horny and he’s not there to take the ache away. It’s the hottest torture ever.
Me
Stop making me horny
Hunter
You started it
Me
Now I have to bust out my vibrator
Hunter
Do it. And send me a video.
That’s not a bad idea. I put my phone aside and open my bedside drawer. My hot pink vibrator is there, fully charged and ready to go. It was a birthday gift from a friend that I had stowed away for over a year, afraid to actually put it inside me.
I send Hunter naughty pics all the time, but I’ve never sent him any videos.
His request has me blushing and so turned on.
I take off all my clothes. Grabbing my vibrator, I press the button to turn it on, testing it.
It has nine modes, and sometimes I go through all of them in one sitting.
I rarely use it, and I hadn’t even used it before sleeping with Hunter, but when he makes me horny and he’s not around, it’s my best friend. I turn it back off.
It takes me a while to figure out how to position my phone so it’ll record me without falling over. I have to prop it up against the headboard and secure it with a book on either side to hold it steady. It’s kind of ridiculous. But you gotta do what you gotta do.
I hit record and position the vibrator at my entrance, slowly pushing it inside me.
It doesn’t compare at all to Hunter’s dick, but then again, I don’t think anything does.
Once it’s fully inside me, I turn it on and fantasize about Hunter touching me and fucking me.
I love it when he pinches my nipples and smacks my pussy, when he ties me up and presses his hand against my throat.
When he looks me in the eye and calls me princess.
I come embarrassingly quickly.
Once my breathing is steady again, I watch the video. It’s pretty hot. I think Hunter will like it. Without giving myself time to second-guess myself, I send it to him. Then I hold my breath waiting for his response.
Hunter
JESUS FUCKING CHRIST
Me
You like?
Hunter
Are you fucking kidding me?!
Me
Haha
Hunter
I’m tying you to my bed and fucking you for 24 hours when I get back
Me
Can’t wait
It’s easier to sext Hunter and pretend our relationship is nothing more than sex to me.
But it’s not just sex to me. Not anymore.
Not when every text he sends makes my heart race.
Not when every time he locks eyes with me, a destabilizing feeling comes over me.
Not when I want to throw myself into his arms every time I see him.
It’s not love, right?
No, it’s not. It’s something else, probably. Infatuation. Lust. Extreme attraction. Obsession. Not love. Not even close. Not to mention, the transactional aspect of our relationship will always prevent us from being more. And maybe that’s for the best.
I wash my vibrator and put it away. An hour later, Becca convinces me to hit up Finnegan’s.
Since my other option is to stay home and wait until Hunter’s game is over so he can text me again, I say yes.
Becca looks cute in jeans and a cropped baby blue tee that says “Dump Him” across the chest. She wears a fuzzy blue coat over it.
I raise an eyebrow at her mischievous face when I see her. “You know you’re going to piss some people off with that shirt, right?”
She grins. “That’s the idea.”
“Feeling frisky, are we?”
“I have another one if you want to wear it so we can match.”
I laugh. “I’ll pass.”
She sticks her tongue out at me. “Party pooper.”
I’m wearing a pink sweater with my jeans and boots since it rained earlier today and it’s starting to get quite chilly. But it’s that time of autumn that I absolutely love, with the leaves changing color and a nip in the air that makes you crave a pumpkin spiced latte the moment you wake up.
“We look so good,” Becca says as we stop to check ourselves out in the hallway mirror before heading out. She fluffs her hair and reapplies her lip gloss.
“Okay, let’s go Miss Dump Him,” I urge, grabbing her elbow. If I don’t drag her out, she’ll never stop staring at herself.
“I hope we see some cute guys tonight,” she says. We get into my car and drive over in less than ten minutes. Becca walks into the bar like she owns the place. I love her confidence. I try to copy her strut.
“Someone is on the prowl,” I tease her.
“I’m bored. I need some stimulation.” Her eyes scan the bar, no doubt looking for cute guys.
“I’m not sure your ‘Dump Him’ t-shirt is going to help you.”
She looks at me, eyebrows raised. “It’s a conversation starter!”
I can’t help but laugh. “I bet it is.”
She links her arm through mine. “Let’s go sit at the bar instead of getting a table. It’s better for flirting.”
I roll my eyes but follow her. Almost as soon as we grab some stools, two guys approach us. They’re objectively good-looking, but I couldn’t care less because Hunter is an absolute god next to them.
“Hi,” one of them says, smiling at me. I give a small smile back just to be polite. At that moment, the bartender comes over and asks me what I’d like. I turn my attention to her and order a lemonade.
“Just a lemonade?” the guy who smiled at me says. “Let me get you something stronger.”
“No, thanks, I don’t really drink alcohol.”
He looks a little too surprised at my statement. Not that I’m not used to it. People take it personally when you tell them you don’t drink. They might even make it their mission to try to get you drunk against your will.
“Seriously?” he asks. “Not at all?”
“I mean, sometimes, but very rarely.”
“Well, let today be one of those rare times,” he says, grinning and revealing a dimple in his left cheek. I resist the urge to roll my eyes. He probably thinks he’s so suave.
“I’m good, thanks,” I say. I almost want to tell him I have a boyfriend, except I’m not sure that I do? It’s not like Hunter and I are in a relationship. Unless you consider having a contract that lets me be his sex toy for money a relationship. I stifle a grin thinking about it.
Behind my persistent suitor, Becca is talking to his friend and full-on flirting, tossing her hair and practically batting her lashes at him. I take a sip of my lemonade and decide I should be nicer to the guy next to me.
“So, what’s your name?” I ask him.
“Derek. What’s yours?”
“I’m Stevie.”
“Stevie. That’s a cute name.”
“Thanks.”
“Would you like to go out sometime, Stevie?”
I assess him. He is a cutie. But, who am I kidding, I’m so sprung on Hunter. “I’m kinda seeing someone,” I tell him.
“Lucky him,” Derek says. “You’re the second pretty girl this week I’ve struck out with. Is it me?”
I laugh. “It’s not you. You’re cute. It’s just bad timing.”
Derek grins. “Thank you. I was hoping you’d say that.”
“You’ve only struck out twice. Third time might be the charm.”
“So you’re saying I shouldn’t give up, huh?”
I point at him. “Exactly. Do you want me to be your wing woman tonight?”
He throws his head back and laughs. “I don’t think any girl has ever offered to be my wing woman before.”
“I think I’d be good at it.”
He sticks his hand out. “You have yourself a deal.” We shake on it.
I scan the bar, trying to find a cute girl for him to go flirt with.
There are plenty here tonight. I notice a brunette with tan skin by the jukebox in baggy black pants and a cropped red tank.
I point her out to Derek. “She’s definitely a contender,” I say.
Next, I notice a Black girl with a cute blonde afro and small diamond nose ring a few tables from the jukebox.
“She’s super cute.” And my third pick is a preppy-looking girl with a short black bob and a gold heart necklace.
“And she’s also super cute,” I say after pointing her out.
Derek nods approvingly at all my choices. “You have good taste, Stevie.”
I shrug and sip my lemonade. “I know.”
Becca, who’s sitting on the stool next to mine, leans in and whispers, “Having fun with your guy?”
“I’m trying to make him go flirt with someone else,” I whisper back.
Becca laughs, covering her mouth. “Oh, you’re bad.” She stirs her cocktail. “By the way, that guy over there has been staring at you nonstop since we got here. Maybe you should go flirt with him instead. He’s not bad looking.”
I follow her gaze. It’s a second before I spot who she’s talking about, but when I do, my heart drops to my stomach. It’s Joe, and he’s glaring at me as he sips a beer. My hand tightens around my glass and I quickly look away.
My first instinct is to leave, but we’re in a crowded place and I don’t think he would try anything with so many witnesses. But my last encounter with him, which I’d pushed out of my brain, roars back into the forefront of my mind. My stomach clenches.
What does he want from me?
I should report him. I should’ve reported him when he first attacked me.
I feel very cowardly. It’s just terrifying to do anything sometimes, because a part of me thinks I will only make things worse somehow.
I have this habit of hoping that ignoring bad things will just make them go away, which is a ridiculous mindset. And yet.
Becca notices my sudden change in mood and demeanor.
“You okay?” she asks, nudging me with her elbow.
I blink. “Yup, totally fine.”
Turning my attention back to Derek, I ask him if he’s ready to go flirt with one of the girls.
He grins. “I think I’d rather hang out with you.” He raises his beer and takes a long pull. “You’re fun.”
Derek is pretty tall and muscular. It’s probably smart to stick with him, in case Joe tries to approach me. I hate feeling so vulnerable, and I wish Hunter were here. I feel safer with him than anyone else in the world.
Derek points to the hockey game playing on mute on the TV above the bar. “You like hockey?”
“I do. I only started getting into it this year though.”
“Oh yeah? It’s pretty fun to watch, right? Have you been to watch the Ravens at the arena?”
“Yes, she has,” Becca chimes in from my other side. “She even went to a game alone last week.”
Derek raises his eyebrows. “Really? Call me next time. I’ll come with you.” He smiles and it’s cute. He really seems completely harmless. I wonder how Hunter would react to me showing up to a game with a man.
Feeling mischievous, I say, “Maybe I will.”
Derek fishes out his phone. “Give me your number. Or at least let me follow you on your socials.”
I tell him my number and he inputs it into his phone, then texts me so I have his number too.
Yeah, I don’t think Hunter would like me giving my number to another guy, but I’m feeling reckless for some reason.
Sometimes I want to push Hunter’s buttons, because then he gets angry and the resulting sex is unbelievable.
And I know a part of me is doing this to get my mind off Joe being here tonight, and the fact that I haven’t done anything to try to stop him.
I chance a glance back to where Joe was sitting earlier.
He’s still there, still looking at me with pure hatred in his eyes.
I tug on a strand of my hair, twisting it around my fingers.
I look away again, trying to get lost in the noise and energy of the bar.
Derek teases Becca about her “Dump Him” t-shirt, and the guy she’s been talking to (his name is Paul) tells her he loves it. I let Becca hold court and give them a whole speech about how “dump him” is always good advice.
The next time I look toward Joe, he’s gone, and I breathe a sigh of relief.