Quirks & Kinks (17 page)

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Authors: Laurel Ulen Curtis

BOOK: Quirks & Kinks
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Sap that I was, I missed it.

Looking down to my bare toes, I scuffed the wood floor with my flip flop once before looking back to his face.

“Wow. You really are good for just a few years of playing.”

“So I
did
impress you,” he teased, leaning in and bumping my ankle carefully with the toe of his boot.

I shook my head with a smile. “Some advice?”

“Sure.”

I leaned in closer and dropped my voice to a seductive whisper. “Don’t call a woman a liar.” He chuckled, and I leaned closer. “
Ever.

“Noted,” he agreed just before reaching up and tucking my hair behind my ear softly.

“Good,” I said, clearing my throat and taking a small step back.

Fuck, Easie. You are an idiot. When you look back on tonight and remember this ruined moment, you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.

“Can I assume that a place called Hunger Spot has food? Or do I need to go shake down some employees and cause an all out riot?”

“I’m pretty sure they’ve got food,” he comforted, his eyes lighting with mirth and life.

“Good. I’ll be back then. I’m going to go order some before I die of starvation.”

“My, my, we’re dramatically hungry tonight, aren’t we?”

“I had carrots and ranch dressing while I watched the episode tonight. That’s it.”

Actually, I hadn’t eaten any of them courtesy of my Anderson meltdown. He didn’t need to know.

“How
was
the show?”

“You were good.”

“That’s it?”

“Okay. You were
really
good.”

He laughed and shook his head before standing up. “Go order food. Maybe some sustenance will improve your vocabulary.”

I narrowed my eyes.

“I’ll be here when you get back.”

Giving him attitude by turning on my heel and heading directly for the bar, I put an extra sway into my walk and listened to him chuckle as I did.

The bartender made ordering easy, pointing out the quickest, most filling items on the menu at the prompting of my growling stomach. His smile was genuine and a little bit flirty, but the blond of his hair and the hazel of his eyes did nothing to elicit an extra beat of my heart or a calming flip of my stomach.

All of that waited for me in the far corner of the room.

Eager to get back to it, I thanked the bartender with an easy wave, and he promised to let me know when my order was up.

Pushing my way past a few crowded clumps of friends, I finally emerged into a chasm of empty space and cleared my view of Anderson.

His eyes were as happy as his smiling lips, and the low, glowing light of the bar made his eyes seem like they were lit from within.

But he wasn’t looking at me.

I followed his eyes all the way to Tammy’s long, dark hair and exposed, silky legs and locked on just in time to see her glance my way.

Her eyes never met mine, but a chill ran up my spine as she smiled a cat-like smile and fell into a strut on a path that could only lead to Anderson.

His smile never faded as she walked right into his arms, wrapping him in a familiar hug that made my heart squeeze with a similar fervor.

Anderson laughed a little, blowing her hair out of his mouth and pushing her back with a gentle grip on her upper arms. He didn’t set her away though, but instead, seemed to hold her there, watching her closely as she spoke and tucking his chin into his chest with mirth as she teased.

He looked at ease with her in a way that I had only thought he was with me, their conversation steady and their touch commonplace.

The two of them embraced with the knowledge and security of a couple. There was no denying they had some deep-seated relationship that I could only dream of superseding.

My feet felt like they were encased in concrete as I watched, unable to look away and powerless to stop it.

He watched her face closely as she moved into him and touched her lips to his, the meeting of the two coinciding perfectly with the stab of a big, sharp knife right through my heart.

Air was moving in and out of my lungs, but I could scarcely breathe, and I knew something with absolute certainty.

One moment had caused what years of smoking had yet to. Catastrophic lung failure.

Finally able to move, I scrambled for the door, leaving behind the bartender and my food, my sister, and the guy I thought would change everything—and shoving people carelessly out of the way to do it.

Gravel crunched under my feet as I ran, and an unrealized sob kicked and scratched its way up my throat with reckless abandon.

I fought for myself, keeping it together long enough to get my keys out of my purse and let myself into the passenger side of my car.

Gathering all of my strength I texted Ashley that it was time to go, leaned back into my seat, and finally let it all go.

The frustration of my self-doubt and insecurities, my want for a meaningful relationship that no one knew I wanted, and the reality of the heartbreak of my want’s destruction.

They all left me in a series of soul-wracking sobs, the power of their meaning shaking my entire body and draining every tear in my reserve.

I was done being this vulnerable woman.

I’d given the dream a test drive, and Anderson had crashed the fucking car.

Easy Easie was gone.

The bitch was back.

 

 

“Sometimes the strongest thing you will ever do will be to let go of someone. It will be painful, you will suffer guilt, and you will second-guess yourself, but for your own sanity and quality of life, there will come a time where you hand them to God, with your love, and trust Him to be who and what He is. May our Lord comfort you.”

~ Lee Goff

THE STARK WHITE WALLS
of my apartment screamed at my foggy brain as I poured my second cup of coffee of the morning.

I normally tried to limit my caffeine intake to one cup a day, focusing on replenishing water and electrolytes through both water and sports drinks throughout the day. Nutrition was an important part of my training for the 100 mile run I planned to do in the early fall, but after last night, my resolve was close to zero.

“Are you alright?” Tammy asked as she walked into the kitchen. Apparently, she noticed how shitty I looked and felt.

“Yeah, I’m just . . .” I scrubbed my face. Shook my head. “I don’t know. Everything was good last night until . . . well, until it wasn’t.”

I didn’t understand what had happened. Easie had gone to get food and never come back. I looked everywhere for her and Ashley, but I never found either of them.

Worried, I sent her several text messages, all without a response.

“Easie left without saying goodbye, so I guess I’m just hoping everything’s alright.”

Tammy puffed out an uncomfortable laugh. Looked at the ground and back up again. “Don’t hold your breath.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, turning to face her completely.

“I mean, everything
isn’t
okay.”

“What? How do you know that?”

“She thinks we’re dating.”

“She thinks we’re dating who?”

I took a sip of my coffee.

“You and I. Each other. She thinks
you’re
dating
me.

Brown liquid spewed everywhere, coating the counter and the front of my white t-shirt. “WHAT? Why in the fucking hell would she think that?”

Silence.

Tammy cocked a perfectly groomed brow, and that was all it took for everything to make sense. I was completely guilty of still seeing just my best friend when I looked at her. The example of feminine beauty she was today was no more than background noise.

And then . . . I remembered it was even worse.

“Jesus Christ, you have
got
to stop kissing me in public!”

“Okay,” she agreed, laughing and grabbing a paper towel from the rack to clean up my mess. “I’ll just do in private. No problem.”

“Tammy!” I snapped, slamming my cup onto the counter so hard she winced.

“Okay, okay. Chill.” My eyes closed as I took a deep breath. “Only on weekends.”

Not opening my eyes, I let my head roll back. “Is this what a stroke feels like?”

“Relax, Romeo,” she laughed. “I’ll stop cockblocking you.”

“I’d say thank you if you deserved it. You caused this whole fucking mess.”

“I was just looking out for you.”

“Looking out for me?”

“I guess I just wanted to see how much you mean to her.”

“Jesus. This is all because of some protective bullshit? Thanks, but no thanks.” I rubbed a rough hand down my face.

Tammy had been around for everything. Before, during, and after. She knew everything about every version of myself, and I knew she had my health and happiness in mind when she stepped in.

But fuck that. I was an adult man. I could make my own decisions. Of course, there was a ripe irony in that statement alone. But I could make any declaration about my life that I wanted because it was just that.

My
life.

Sensing my mood and wanting to avoid a fight as much as I did, she moved on.

“Seriously though, you’re in for a world of pain when you see her again.”

“Why? We aren’t together,” I reasoned immediately out of reflex. I almost rolled my eyes at myself. We’d both been saying that a lot, but it never sounded true.

“Riiight. You guys are the most couple-y non-couple on record.” My head dropped backward on my shoulders in exasperation. “And that chick has got a wicked streak inside her. You better wear a cup.”

I knew Easie had a hard facade she used as an excuse not to go deeper, but I didn’t think she was actually malicious.

“She’s not that bad.”

“Fuck, it’s gonna hurt when she knees you in the unprotected balls, Bro. Maybe you don’t know her as well as I thought.”

“Well, I guess we’ll find out soon. I have a meeting with her and Larry in an hour. The ratings are in.”

“Good luck,” she sing-songed, turning with a feminine swish and waltzing toward her room.

It was going to be fine.

I didn’t need luck. Right?

I mean, how bad could she be?

God, this was fucking bad.

I thought I’d seen an ice stare before, but at the realization of Easie’s, I could confidently say I never had.

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