Chapter Eight
Jen
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come over? I could bring all the snacks, and we can shit talk men all night long.” Mabel crunches something quietly as she talks. I assume she’s eating Goldfish. That girl could live on little cheese crackers if you let her.
“I appreciate it, but I think I want to be alone for a while. I need to recharge my batteries and figure out what the hell I’m doing with my life. I mean, maybe it was a mistake to buy this place. It’s huge, and even with Jackson, it’s too much space.”
“You bought the property because you love renovations, you love wide open spaces, and wanted inspiration. Why don’t you sink into your book? You used to say the anger gave you something to draw from.”
“I’ve written a little in the last couple of days, not the speed I used to write, but the faucet is open again.”
“See… you can’t move. You’re finally finding inspiration.”
A branch hits the side window in the sunroom where I’m plopped down like a potato. “I don’t think it’s the house.”
“Oh! What do you think it is then?” She’s slowed her speech to a playful mock. “Could it be the handyman sex god who’s been hanging all over you?”
“Yeah, but that wasn’t real either, and I’m only setting myself up for disappointment with him. I don’t know. I just,” I draw in a heavy breath, “he’s a criminal and a fraud, and I’m sure I was just another scheme.”
“But you made up the scheme.”
“I know, but he was leaning into it too hard. The man sat out on the front porch for like four hours after I closed the door in his face.” I shake my head. “He left, though, like they all do.”
“Okay,” Mabel clears her throat like she’s about to lay the best advice ever, “Reed hurt you. I get it, he’s an asshole, and I know that wound is going to sting for a while, but I watched that giant man kiss you the other day, and I promise you… he wasn’t faking it.”
For a second, my thoughts go back to that kiss, to the way his rough touch felt against my skin, to the way he held me, to the sound in his throat as his tongue grazed my lips.
Dear God. I need to lock that memory away and never think about it again.
“You know when I was a little girl, I used to think I was going to be married with babies by twenty-five. I thought I’d have this great medical career with all these awards, and somehow I’d still be a great mother and wife.
Now, I work in a construction office crushing over my boss.
A guy who’d never in a million years be interested in a girl like me, and if I’m honest, I don’t see any changes on the horizon.
My life is broken, Jen. You’ve got so much left.
A good kid, talent, opportunity, and a big, rough, hot dude who wants to manhandle you.
Let him! For the love of all that’s holy… let him!”
“What do you like about Mike?” I ask, thinking back to what Atlas told me earlier.
“I don’t know.” Another crunch ensues. “He’s mysterious, he’s aggressive, and he’s a little scary looking.”
I know why she’d think that’s attractive, because a part of me finds that attractive about Atlas, but I question her because I’m questioning myself. “And you like that?”
“Yeah, because deep down I know he’s a big softy. Like, we’re doing the toy drive together this year for the town and he’s been planning it for months. The guy looks like he runs the mafia, but he’s got the biggest heart. Why do you like Atlas?”
I laugh under my breath and stare at my reflection in the dark sunroom window. “Because I’ve been starved for love so any affection at all feels like heaven.”
Mabel sighs under her breath and crinkles up the bag she’s been working on. “Then you have to do this even more so now.”
“What? Why?”
“If you flood your body and mind with the feelings, you’ll start making better decisions. Plus, you still need a date to the wedding.”
“Oh, I’m not going to the wedding.”
“What?” she gasps as though she’s not going to take no for an answer. “You’re going to that wedding. I need you there.”
“No. I’m too messed up in the head right now. I can’t see Reed and Em. It’s too much. I’m sure she has some skimpy little dress she’ll look insane in, and I don’t want to put myself through that right now.”
The wind picks up outside, howling through the back windows. I make a mental note to check the seal. Truthfully, I should start an actual list of a few things I’ve been noticing.
“You’re going to look insane too. I’ve seen you in that red dress. Come on, I can’t go to this thing on my own. I need you there.”
“No you don’t. You’re a social butterfly. You’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, but I’d rather be with you. Come on, please!”
“Never.” I shake my head and stand from the couch, clicking off the one infomercial left on television, and head toward the stairs for bed in the very dark house I’m not at all used to yet. “I’m going to sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“You’ll feel better in the morning, and we’ll walk into that wedding like two hot, little cuties. Everything will be fine.”
There’s no way in hell I’m going to that wedding, but I’m too tired to argue. “Love you, babe.”
“Love you more.” She hangs up the line, and I climb up the stairs slowly before making my way to the bed and collapsing, my mind on a loop of every filthy thing I did today.
God, what’s wrong with me? Why would I ever let myself get so close to someone so fast? Why would I let myself actually feel things? Atlas and I barely know each other.
I fluff my pillow under my head and draw in a deep breath before letting it out slowly, my clit hammering between my legs as visions of the ex-con spanking my ass on the boulder won’t leave my mind.
It’s funny how something can seem like a really good idea at the time, to only feel like the worst mistake you’ve ever made two hours later.
Part of me wants to disappear under these sheets until the sun comes up, but another part of me is feeling the urge to write every detail out until the pictures have left my exhausted brain.
So, that’s what I do.