Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
Jaq
“Oh, fuck that feels so good,” I moaned, the rose toy that won this morning's choice, tickled my clit into mindless submission.
It had been weeks since I'd ruined things with the Oceanic Orgasm, and since then I tried to go out on dates with no luck.
One guy would have a litter of kids, or another would just blatantly lie about his height, like I wasn't going to notice.
For a city with one of the country's biggest populations, we by far had the worst dating pool.
Unfortunately, that gave me so little to choose from when my goal was just hooking up.
No one had really excited me quite like Graham had, but the second he confessed his status, a part of me just seized up.
Who in this day and age was even a virgin, anyways?
It all felt like some red pill influenced behavior.
Could I have handled things less harshly?
Probably. But sex meant different things to different people, and the idea terrified me of someone growing attached to me because I was their first. Been there, done that, refused to do it again.
The shitty part was that things were going so well before that.
But at least he was honest, because most men didn’t even give you that choice.
After a quick session of solo love, I glanced at my phone to see a few missed messages from Yenory asking if I had any free time to go running. Wiping the crust out of my eyes, I texted back.
Me: Can my ass take a shower first, or is it not that serious?
Yenory: You act like I ain't never smelled you musty before. Just throw on some clothes and take a shower after the run.
Me: Damn, aggressive much. Where am I meeting you?
Yenory: Just get ready, I'll meet you. That way no one else has to smell your stinky behind.
Me: Fuck you, I’m not musty, but the poom poom’s gonna be a little strong because your girl was busy this morning.
Yenory: With a guy?
Me: Does a rose toy count?
Yenory: Girl, hurry up, I'll be there in 15.
Deep ancestral sigh. Guess this meant I was getting up.
***
You know how every friend group had certain roles? If I was the oddball and Carly was the messy one, we all had that one friend that was responsible and called you out on all your shit.
Yenory came out her mother's womb bossy.
From the day we all met, she was the one with the plan, having her whole life mapped out since high school.
Which in turn worked out because out of the three of us, it wasn't hard to admit that she was the most successful, not just in work but in relationships too.
After dealing with a lot of duds, she snagged her dream guy in a famous baseball player, that was not only hot but an amazing person. And I don't say that lightly, either. That's what always made her so easy to talk to, because it felt like she had this shit all figured out.
Ten minutes in and I was begging for a water break. Damn, it looked like someone had inherited the stamina of her famous husband's workouts.
“Sorry I'm so slow. I wasn't exactly taking care of myself back in Atlanta. The problem was, you have to drive everywhere. That, in part added to my laziness.”
“Mama, you good. I literally never even cared about carbs or anything like that until I started dealing with Avi.
It's like I cared about my clients' health, but I was never as involved in that process.
It's been nice. I definitely feel better, but you know, it's not my goal to be lithe or anything.
I just like that I can run up a flight of stairs without feeling like I'm having a heart attack.”
“Heh,” I said, taking a sip out of my water bottle. “Can't relate…” I joked, as for the next few minutes we embarked on a brisk stroll.
“How are you settling in, at least? It's crazy, I thought when I got married that I was going to be the one having a hard time keeping up with everyone's phone calls and plans, but damn, it's like when I want to hang out with y'all, I always got to be the one planning it.”
“Girl, you know me and Carly are lazy. You been knowing that since the very first day. To be fair, I just moved back. You gotta give me a minute, damn. But to answer your question, it's been good. All the baristas at the nearby coffee shops are already starting to recognize me and my usual order. That makes me feel at home. Oh, and did I tell you? I just got some physical arcs of my book,” I singsonged. Even though I was already working on my next one, it felt amazing to hold it in my hands. For so long, I reported other people’s stories, so it was nice to just open my book and lose myself in a fictional world.
For months, I was so sick of it, but now that it's almost out, I fell back in love with the story.
Sigh. It was a lot easier to find that comfort in a book than dealing with people in real life.
Yenory had never been a serial dater like me.
She tended to tie herself in longer relationships, or none at all.
She did try the whole friends with benefits thing, but the problem was that that friend didn’t take long to become her husband.
Let's just say she wasn't great at the whole casual sex thing.
“Please tell me you stayed your ass off those dating apps,” she scolded, my silence calling me all the way out. Wasn't it better than lying?
“Jaq?” she whined.
“What? Yenory, I'm not built like you. The longest I can go without sex is like a year, and even in that year I'm like an unneutered dog.
Just humping every surface my yoni comes in contact with for some release.
Which is crazy, because a couple weeks ago I met this guy.
Insanely fine. Tatted up. Smooth brown skin.
Oh my god, a smile to die for! I ignored the fact that he was younger than me, because when I tell you, he was pursuing me heavily.
I loved his confidence, and his vibe was just different than I'm used to.”
“I hear a huge but coming on—”
“But,” I interjected. “Then he said some shit that brought up bad trauma, with…
you know. And I don't know, I just panicked.
We didn't even get past him going down on me, and you know how much I like sucking dick,” I whined, as we stopped by a truck selling pressed juices, the ginger waking up my tired senses.
“Jaq, I don't want to be unsympathetic, but will you ever stop blaming yourself for what happened with him?
Like, I know I've gone through my own shit.
I'm used to blaming myself all the time for everything bad that happened when I was with Randall.
Certain things take a toll on you and show up in the world, trust me, I know.
But while it took years for me to stop punishing myself for that abuser's flaws, I came to realize I wasn't accepting the right kind of love for myself, because I was holding onto that guilt, that pain.
I didn't know how to recognize love that felt easy, because tough love was what I normalized.
Sometimes I think that's what you're doing.”
So, what if I was? I wasn't exactly hurting anyone by pushing people away.
Some people thrived in relationships. I was one of the unlucky ones that just didn't. My whole deal was that I liked myself by myself, but she was always right. The guilt was a lot sometimes. I wouldn't even go to Jimmy’s because that was his favorite restaurant, but I just couldn’t work up the courage to sit down and eat there.
Not without feeling like I was the reason he did what he did.
“Look, I know that you care, and you just want me to be happy.
But Yenory, I retired from my stressful job, bought my second home in a city that I love, and for the first time I'll be holding a published book with my name printed all over its pages. I am happy. See!” I demonstrated with a cheesy full toothed grin, as I put my arms around her.
“Mami, you be creeping me out sometimes, get away from me,” she laughed, playfully pushing me away as we finished off our juices.
“Well, if that's the case, what are you doing this weekend?
Me and Avi are headed up to Martha's Vineyard with a few friends.
They're having like this Black punk music festival called Noir Noise and given the fact that you used to be our alt queen, I didn't feel right not asking you to come.” The tragic part of her sentence was that I was still their alt queen, but to grow in journalism I had to look conventional.
Maybe this weekend was time to do a full unveiling of me back in my final form.
“I did hear about it, but didn't think I'd get y'all to go with me with y'all unadventurous asses.
I want to go, but who all gonna be there?
You know, I haven't been the warmest having to deal with Avi’s little athlete friends.
If it's nothing but meatheads, you can count me in, but on my own time.
My folks have a house out there, so I wouldn't have to crash with y'all.” Her lips formed to a pout, grabbing my arm as she pleaded.
"Yeah, but at your place, there won't be a cook. Or drivers. Or massages.”
“Massages, you say?” I interrupted. That was the thing about marrying a pro athlete, her hubby always did trips big.
“Yeah, Avi over planned this weekend, and I promise you, it'll be no athletes. I'm asking Carly, and Avi invited his tattoo artist. I like him, he's really chill. He matches the vibe. Avi told him he could bring some friends, and I'm telling you, if they're as hot as him, you won't be sorry.”
Hmm, a weekend away. A music festival. All-expenses paid and the possibility of meeting some new people. It didn't sound like the worst idea.
“As long as it's not a trap to intentionally set me up, I'm down. I can use a little fun weekend.”