Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
JOANNA
It’s been almost a week since my one night stand with Aidan, and for the life of me, I can’t get that goddamn vampire out of my head.
My rage—and my lust, to be honest—has been burning hot from the moment I walked out his front door.
Why oh why did I experience the best sex of my life only to realize the guy is an absolute dick?
Really, I should have known better. There’s a reason we’ve never gotten along. Why did I think our dynamic would change in the bedroom?
Ugh.
Every hour of the day is a nonstop cycle of working on whatever I need to get done on the farm, followed by my mind wandering to images of Aidan between my legs, catching myself thinking about Aidan between my legs, and then scolding myself about it.
Then the cycle repeats.
But not before I remember the complete lack of decency he showed as he practically ignored me afterwards.
Not as much as a glance as I got dressed, and I was forced to walk-of-shame myself out, only to nearly trip over my keys.
Which were lying right beside my car. I felt like a cheap hooker with a vision problem, but maybe that’s what he wanted.
That was afterwards, though. During—the way he looked at me, touched me—we were so in tune with one another. I’ve never experienced sex like that. Even though he treated me like trash afterward, I can’t stop thinking about the during.
Even worse, I think I would do it again.
On Thursday morning, my dog acts as my alarm by thumping her tail on the pillow beside my head (thus, why I name her Thumper).
I roll out of my comfy quilts and slide my feet into a pair of Crocs without opening my eyes while my little dachshund-mix runs down her ramp and zooms to the kitchen.
It’s five thirty in the morning, and that means potty time.
As I open the door to let her out into the dewy grass, it feels momentarily like an average morning. Then I remember what day it is.
I’m not one to make a big deal out of my birthday. Friends’ birthdays? Totally different story. I love making others feel special on their special day. But me? I’m just reminded of how old I’m getting, and that I’m still alone.
I’ve tried to play it off as if it’s all the men out there that are toxic and can’t commit.
Women like Raegan just happened to luck out and find one of the handful of ones who aren’t.
But now that I’m thirty-five, I think I can finally look at myself in the mirror like Taylor Swift and admit it’s really me that’s the problem.
I might act like I want a serious relationship, but secretly, I’ve never been able to handle something like that emotionally. I’m way too closed off.
Over the past few years I’ve learned to accept it, but now that Raegan and Jamie are so cozy and comfortable in their new relationship, it’s bringing up some old wounds and insecurities.
I check my phone and find a string of text messages from Raegan, all wishing me a happy birthday in various GIFs.
The fact that she set her alarm to text me when she knew I’d be awake makes me smile.
I text back a quick thank you with lots of emojis and usher Thumper back inside once I’m sure she’s done her business.
I take my time in the shower. Since it’s my birthday, I decide to take an “everything shower”—you know, the one where you wash your hair, shave, and exfoliate? It’s my day, and I most definitely deserve it.
And tonight, I’m definitely going to have that bath. I decide it was meant to be this way—having a bath before bed on my birthday makes the soak special. I’ll even use my new heart-shaped bath bomb that smells like strawberry pound cake.
After getting dressed, I make myself a small breakfast consisting of cottage cheese and blueberries. I’m meeting Raegan for a special birthday brunch later, so I don’t want to eat too much—I’ll need all the room in my stomach I can get if I want to scarf down pancakes at Kiki’s Cafe.
It’s the first in several years I’ve done anything special for my birthday.
Before reconnecting with Raegan back in October, I spent most of my time by myself on the farm.
I’ve always had my mom, but there’s just something different about having a friend that’s the same age as you, going through the same things.
The friends I’d made in college all got married, had babies, and began developing different priorities than me. We found it difficult to make time to hang out, and I felt guilty for asking them to do it in the first place when they had little ones to take care of.
I might have zero interest in popping a human being out of my vagina, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have empathy for moms. It’s hard even when you have help, and even harder when you don’t.
My mother is a single mom. She raised me all on her own from day one.
I’ve never known what my father looks like, not even his name, but I clearly haven’t missed out on anything since we never heard a peep from the guy.
Thumper and I make our daily morning route around the farm. Strawberry season came early this year, and the patch is filled with little pops of color. There’s just enough left for me to sell several bunches to our local grocer later this week. I plan to keep the rest for myself.
The rest of my time is spent with our cows.
What most people don’t realize is that cows are basically just giant dogs.
They love chin scratches and tummy rubs, and are very sneaky about stealing your food.
Our youngest calf, Julio, still loves running around the yard with Thumper and the other rescue dogs.
Yard time with the dogs is a long process.
Every dog at my rescue has another dog they either don’t get along with or have become best buds.
It’s my job to keep those groups organized and peaceful.
Thumper helps a lot too. She’s my zero dog.
She can adapt and get along with any kind of dog I have.
She makes the mean ones calm and the scared ones happy.
Having her means less stress when it’s just me on the farm.
Normally, my mom is here to help, but right now she’s taking care of my aunt in Virginia who just had plastic surgery. I had no clue that eye bags could get so droopy they blocked your vision. Just one more thing to look forward to as I age.
The rest of my morning is focused on Dill, the stray that’s been recovering from surgery.
He’s healed like a champ, and so far has gotten along great with Thumper.
I never heard from the asshole who abandoned him after our shouting match in the driveway, which I’m eternally grateful for.
Knowing he’ll recover in a safe place with people to love and care for him is the best outcome I could have asked for.
After another few hours piddling around the farm, I make my way into town to meet Raegan.
We decided on Kiki’s, because she has the best breakfast and lunch menu.
I’ve been craving pancakes for weeks, ever since Raegan first suggested we have birthday brunch.
I don’t know if it’ll turn into a tradition that sticks, but I’d like for it to.
I thought I was too old to make new friends, but Raegan proved me wrong.
Our friendship wasn’t something that was forced, it sort of just happened, which in the grand scheme of things seems like the best kind of friendship in my book.
Unfortunately, I feel like the emotional aspect of our bond has been a bit one sided.
I’ve never been the best at sharing my feelings.
When things become too overwhelming, I tend to ignore them.
I bury myself in my own shell and don’t talk about it.
It’s better that way, because when I do decide I’m ready to talk, it tends to spill out like an endless tidal wave that won’t stop.
Then I just end up trading my previous bad feelings for guilt over ranting.
So, as a result, I choose to share nothing and focus all my attention on helping the other person.
I would much rather listen to their problems, and though I’m genuinely eager to help, it also works as a bit of a distraction from my own life.
Not long after Raegan and I first started hanging out, I pegged her tendency to run away from her problems and hide, similar to myself.
I’ve tried to make it a point to give her a safe space.
I think she wants to be able to do the same for me, but most of the time, I pretend I’m fine, and she doesn’t push.
Thinking of this makes me nervous to see her after my hookup with Aidan. Though I’m pretty good about hiding my emotions, I feel as if my chaotic thoughts about him are written plain as day on my face. What if I start daydreaming about his cock in my mouth, and she asks me what I’m thinking about?
I don’t know if it’s because I’m embarrassed about what happened or ashamed by how it ended. Either way, I don’t want her knowing. If she finds out, it’ll get back to Jamie, then things will just get awkward. I’d rather keep this random, yet extremely enjoyable, mishap to myself for now.
I enter the cafe right in the middle of the lunch rush.
Several members of town are jostling between one another to get in line or find a seat.
Typically, the chaos dies down around two, but I try not to take that late of a lunch because of the dogs.
Some require medication at certain times, and I have some anxious rescues that need a lot of attention.
Raegan has actually been a huge help with that.
She comes over at least once a week to play with the dogs who need interaction and help with various tasks.
She’s formed a special bond with Juno, a pit bull I’ve had for four months, and I’m pretty sure it’s only a matter of time before she decides to adopt her.