Chapter 12
DANI
Step away from the window, Dani. Stop perving on your friend. The fact that he never wears a shirt at home isn’t license to stare. If he were a man creeping on a woman, you’d think he was horrible. It is horrible. Stop it. Step away.
I didn’t. My feet were rooted to the spot.
From my old bedroom, I had a straight view into the room where Jake stripped wallpaper in nothing but a pair of shorts.
There were no curtains or blinds on the windows, and I saw straight into the room.
The light from the bulb loved his muscular back. As did I.
My cat demanded attention with an indignant meow. She had her own little cat cave in the corner of the room, but I’d kept her awake with all my moving around.
“Miss Priss, your mommy is a bad person. The last thing I need now is for someone to call the police on me for being a peeping Tom.”
I didn’t intend to spy. In fact, I was so exhausted when I got in that I responded to some work emails and immediately got ready for bed, fully expecting to pass out. But then I lay there in the dark, unable to sleep. After I stared at the ceiling for a while, I went to the window to clear my head.
Imagine my shock when I got my own personal peep show instead of the moon. The lights were out in my room, so I saw everything. There was nothing sexual in what he was doing, but I was mesmerized by the way his body moved.
Miss Priss, disgruntled that I was still out of bed, padded over to me. To her annoyance, I scooped her up and cuddled her to my chest.
“I have to get over this attraction, Miss Priss. It’s inappropriate and frankly unfair to him.
My life is an utter disaster. No, that might be too generous.
After all the pain he’s gone through, he doesn’t need my garbage fire bringing him down.
I probably just need an orgasm. I can’t remember the last time I had one. ”
The cat squirmed in my clutches, so I set her down. Annoyed, she pranced back to her cat cave and leaped inside, giving me her back.
Perfect. She didn’t need to see this.
I closed myself in the closet before I turned on the light switch. A year ago, Beau and I had a big fight, and I was really stressed about it. In Vanessa’s opinion, if I dusted off the cobwebs, it’d clear my brain, and I wouldn’t need him anymore. She gifted me a vibrator.
I didn’t want to accept it. She meant well, but I was too embarrassed to admit I seldom orgasmed anymore. I also didn’t own any vibrators or dildos because he thought they were degenerate. In hindsight, he probably didn’t want me to realize I’d be better on my own.
With shaking fingers, I released the bright pink terror from its impenetrable packaging and willed my heart to calm down.
This shouldn’t be terrifying. I used to do extreme sports, camped in the desert, moved to a strange city, competed for and won a coveted internship, got a high-paying job right out of college, and then started my own business.
I was also a tattooed, smart-ass bartender who routinely broke up fights between groups of rough-and-tumble ranchers and farmhands larger than myself.
Yet I was intimidated by a hot pink vibrator.
This was something minor I could dominate. As soon as the word occurred to me, I stifled a giggle. Already, I was lighter. This is what I needed: laughter, victories, and orgasms.
This week was full of big upheaval, and bigger challenges lay ahead. Small wins like this mattered. They’d give me strength.
I walked back to my bed, heart pounding, sweat on my brow. My fingers clenched around the sex toy that symbolized too much.
I was like a shy teenage girl touching herself for the first time instead of an experienced, once-daring thirty-something who’d lived with a partner for years. Damn Beau for stealing my confidence.
This was one battle I had to conquer on my own. I allowed this to happen, and I was responsible for taking back my sexuality. Alone, I’d find the person I used to be before Beau berated my enthusiasm, my sounds, my wetness, my desire.
He berated and mocked me, small things at first but with increasing frequency, until so much of my life was ensuring I didn’t do anything to displease him. In service of that, I covered my tattoos, stopped wearing makeup, didn’t work out as much, and muted my personality.
After a few days away from his influence, I had greater clarity than I’d had in years. It wasn’t going to be as easy as deciding I deserved better, but it wouldn’t get better unless I believed. And I’d start with a little self-pleasure.
With a deep breath, I spread my legs. It’d been so long since I played with myself or had someone else pay attention to my body. I nearly leaped off the bed when I touched the toy to my clit on its lowest setting, but I tried again.
In no time, my body clenched tight. I bit back a moan as my first orgasm in a year crashed over me. My body arched up from the bed, and I shattered.
When it was over, I lay limp and drenched, exhilarated and exhausted in equal measure. I wanted to laugh and cry. Holy hell, that was amazing! It was a shame I denied myself this simple, healthy pleasure.
After I cleaned up, I put on my pajamas and crawled back into bed. My exhaustion consumed me. Once I settled, Miss Priss jumped onto the bed and curled up.
Right before I fell asleep, I acknowledged to myself that it was Jake’s face in my mind as I crested my peak. Damn. I was in so much trouble.
After lunch, I remembered about my car, and it still wouldn’t start.
Me: The battery charger didn’t work. Mechanic guru, what do you suggest?
Jake: A new battery will probably fix it. Let’s try that first.
Me: Was this all a ploy to get me to spend money at Dusty’s?
Jake: Yes, I set up an elaborate scheme to get less than an hour of labor.
Me: I knew it!
Jake: I can’t replace it before you have to go to work, but I can drop you off and take care of it tonight.
Me: If it’s too much trouble, I’m sure Neil would give me a ride.
Jake: After yesterday, I want to.
Me: Me, too. Thanks. Let me know if it’s too much of an inconvenience.
Jake: Never.
I worked on my design work until it was time to get ready for my shift.
After a moment’s hesitation, I pulled out a shirt from the back of my closet.
It was another shirt I told Beau I got rid of.
He thought it was indecent, but it wasn’t.
It highlighted my tattoos and strong back, yet it made me feel feminine.
From the front, it was a normal, well-fitted short-sleeved shirt. The back was open until it hit my natural waist, and I wore a low-back bra.
This was my quiet rebellion, my way of celebrating the end of my relationship. It wasn’t a signal that I was available. God, no. Instead, I was reclaiming myself by doing the things that brought me joy.
And, hey, if I get a few extra bucks in tips, I wouldn’t be sad about it.
I dreaded the actual breakup ahead, but a weight lifted from my shoulders. The conversation was going to be terrible, but at least I was in a stronger position than I’d been in months.
When Jake pulled into the driveway, I pushed out the butterflies with a deep breath. I was desperate for Jake to like my tattoos, but I refused to think about why. My breaths grew shallow as I jogged to the passenger side of his truck.
“How’s your day been?” he asked.
He didn’t see it. Butterflies were hosting a rave in my stomach, and he thought I was wearing a regular t-shirt for my regular shift at work.
God, I was so stupid. Eager to hide the embarrassment burning in my cheeks, I reached across my torso with my left arm to hide my face.
“Hold on. Does your shirt have a rip in the back?”
Confused, I turned back to him and hoped the flames had died down.
“Is there something wrong with your shirt?” he repeated.
An embarrassed laugh burbled out of me.
“No, that’s the style. It’s backless.”
His eyebrows shot up.
“That’s a thing? How does it stay up?”
“It’s like a square-cut shirt, turned the other way around.”
“Cool. Can I see?”
With my heart in my throat, I leaned away from him to bare my back. While I’d worn this shirt many times in busier places, I felt more exposed now. Jake wasn’t seeing it by happenstance; I was revealing it to him. It was strangely intimate.
“Damn, that’s amazing. Your artwork is stunning.”
“Thanks, I drew the designs myself.”
“Wow, even more impressive. The way your shirt cuts low in the back is a perfect frame. Very cool.”
Pleasure radiated through me. That’s exactly what I thought when I bought it.
“Do the flowers mean anything?” he asked.
“Yeah, I had them done to remind me of where I came from.”
I swallowed hard, not sure I was ready to share this. But it was a week for difficult things, so I might as well.
“The tulip represents Mom since she’s perfect love, and it’s her favorite. My dad is the marigold for positivity. We never knew how prescient that would turn out to be. I’m the daffodil; it means new beginnings.”
“And what’s the last one?”
I swallowed hard.
“Forget-me-nots.”
“Ah, so you wouldn’t forget Sierra Rose Ridge.” His lips quirked up in that half-smile of his. “You meant it as a literal reminder.”
My eyes met his over my shoulder.
“No, it’s for you.”
He froze for a long moment. Then he cleared his throat, and the world returned to normal.
“Your tattoos are beautiful. Thank you for sharing them with me.”
Okay, so that conversation was done. It’s not like I expected him to declare his undying love after he found out I got a tattoo of him as part of my forever family. I reached for my seatbelt again, and nothing stopped me.
“Thanks. I haven’t worn this shirt in a while, but I wanted to celebrate.”
“It’s bad-ass. Very celebratory.”
“You don’t think it’s inappropriate, or that I should change into something that conceals my tattoo and covers my back?”
“No way. It should be a crime to cover that up.”
Stop being perfect if you’re not for me.