The Fuck It List
The Complete Story
Rae Lynn Blaise
Bigger on the Inside
Contents
#1: The Best Friend
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
#2: The Professor
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
#3:The Stranger
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
#4: The Jock
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
#5: The Local Celebrity
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
#6: The Boss
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Enjoy an excerpt
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Also by Rae Lynn Blaise
About the Author
Copyright © 2016 by Rae Lynn Blaise
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Part I
#1: The Best Friend
1
I burst through the door, slamming it behind me, brandishing my cell phone like a knife.
"Amanda?" Scott's voice is tinged with surprise and concern as he steps into his living room. "You're supposed to be at brunch. What's going on?"
He wasn't expecting me, but this is a DefCon 5 level emergency and I can always come to him when I need him. He's been my best friend for so long and had been so sweet to help me pick out the perfect dress for what was supposed to be a proposal brunch.
But instead, it was a breakup brunch.
I was supposed to have a ring glittering on my finger, but instead I have tears glittering on my cheeks.
At the soft worry darkening Scott's eyes as he comes to stand before me, I completely break down. He pulls me to him and holds me tight, rubbing circles on the small of my back. It feels good. His hand is soft and warm. His arms are hard and strong. I'm always safe with him, in his embrace. His touch calms me a little, helping quiet my cries.
Leading me to the couch, he pushes me gently down onto it, sitting close beside me, keeping hold of my hands. "What happened?"
With halting breaths, I try to explain. "Adam broke up with me."
"What?" Shock stills his features, something strange and fleeting in his expression. Something that makes me pause before shaking it off.
I hiccup and nod, sniffing. "Yeah. Apparently, he's been thinking about this for a while. He sat there across from me with this horrible patient voice and explained how he likes to think things through and explore all possibilities. Which I already knew! We've been together six years today; I know him. I know everything about him. Or I thought I did." I stumble to a stop again, the ache in my chest and the lump in my throat making it hard to breathe. "I need a sec."
I accept the tissue Scott hands me and mop up my face. I can't believe this. What am I going to do now? Everything is ruined, my whole future. I squeeze my eyes shut and count to twenty, breathing in and out, trying to calm my racing heart, hold back the sobs crawling up.
Scott rises and disappears into the kitchen, bringing back a six-pack of Mike's Hard Lemonade and two glasses of his preferred brand of cheap tequila.
I smile a little when I see the Mike's. He always keeps some here for me, knowing how much I love the fruity drink that Adam always scoffed at. He said drinks like that were for pussies and girls.
I knock back the tequila, shuddering and wincing at the burn sliding through me before I resume my pathetic story. "Our anniversary date. It seemed—I mean, was it stupid that—no, it wasn’t. It was why I assumed he was going to finally put a ring on it." The tequila warms me, a slight buzz already spinning my head. I haven't eaten all day, unable to take a bite while Adam tore my world to pieces so casually.
That was the worst part. It was clearly just another item to tick off his to-do list. Fuck that list.
The chicken and waffles, juicy fruit, and warm vanilla cranberry scones had sat there, untouched. And I love brunch food. It's my favorite. Or it was. I never wanted to see a brunch food or restaurant ever again. One more thing he'd ruined and ripped away from me.
Fresh tears pour from my eyes and I take another minute to try and compose myself. Scott squeezes my knee, his eyes strained with horror and anger. He hands me his glass of tequila.
I knock that one back too, my mouth puckering, but it goes down a bit more smoothly than the first. "But what he meant was after sleeping with seven other girls, he knew I wasn't who he wants to spend his life with. Seven! Seven. Other. Fucking. Girls. And that wrapping up the relationship at the six-year mark just felt right to him. Everything nice and tidy with a damn bow on top."
Six. Whole. Years.
Scott pops open one of the Mike's and hands it to me. I guzzle down half of it without pausing for breath.
I shove the phone I'm still clutching in Scott's face. "And look. As soon as he was gone, I got on his Facebook page and he had changed his status to single before we even got to brunch."
"Oh my God, what an asshole." He shakes his head, brow furrowed in a disbelieving frown.
"I mean, what if I had checked it before I met him? He didn't even care. He doesn't care that now everyone we know will find out before I've even had a chance to process everything. I've already gotten fake concerned messages from "friends" that I haven't talked to since high school. My phone started dinging with them while he was breaking up with me." I toss my phone onto his coffee table with a clatter.
With the story out, I start sobbing again. "I just...I just can't believe this. How could he? I thought he loved me. Six years together and he just ends it? On our anniversary? How could he? And how did he keep seven other girls from me? How could I have been so blind? What's so wrong with me that he can't imagine spending his life with me?"
Scott gathers me into his arms and I curl up against his firm chest. What would I do without him? I never want to find out.
"There is nothing wrong with you; you are amazing and gorgeous and brilliant. I could kill him. He's an asshole, Alison. You're better off without him. I know it sounds like a cliche, but it's the truth. He's a piece of shit for doing this to you and you deserve so much better than this. Than him.”
I finish off my drink, actually tasting the fruity fizz this time. Scott's shirt is drenched with my tears. "I'll be right back." I get up and go to the bathroom, rinsing the salt and sorrow from my cheeks, the cold water soothing my swollen and burning face.
I look into the mirror to check the damage. I'm red and puffy and my makeup has washed away, my grey eyes stormy and dark with heartbreak. I pluck at the skinny straps of my coral and teal dress with disgust. When I get home I'm burning it.
What a waste.
I dry off my hands and return to snuggle up next to Scott who already has another drink open for me. I give him a small smile and sip at it this time.
If only I could stop replaying the moment over and over in my head. The stares and whispers of the other patrons as I gasped and
pleaded and questioned, tearing up. The cold, calm look on Adam's face as he broke up with me like he was ending some sort of business arrangement.
He hadn't even been sorry about the girls he slept with behind my back or doing this on our anniversary. Not only was he not sorry, he’d condescended to me. I tell Scott.
"When I admitted I thought he was going to propose, he actually laughed. This shocked, patronizing laugh. Like I was some pathetic love-struck girl. And I guess I was."
"For fuck's sake. I'm seriously going to kill him." Scott pulls me even closer, like he was determined to protect me with his own body from anything else hurting me. It could work—Scott’s body is muscled in all the ways Adam’s wasn’t. I’d often wished Adam would go work out with my friend, but there was always a weird thing with them. Not anymore, I guess. Not since the final insult.
"The final insult was that then he left me there. With. The. Bill." The pitying looks of the waiter and cashier were burned into my brain.
Scott's body stiffens beneath mine. "Oh, Amanda. I'm so sorry. Fuck, he's the worst."
Why hadn't I noticed Adam was so cold and selfish? How could I not see over all the years we were together? How could I be so stupid?
No. Not me. I’m not the stupid one. I did nothing wrong.
Anger washes over me in waves, rinsing away the sadness. Scott is right. He isn't worth my tears. "I've wasted so much time. So much time."
I could throw up thinking about all the things I've missed out on because I was in a relationship. A dead end relationship. The things I didn't experience because Adam thought it was stupid or boring. The parties I'd missed, the study groups I'd begged off on, the local bands playing I didn't get to see.
The clichéd college experimentation. Instead I got to have biweekly vanilla missionary sex, lucky if I got an orgasm once a month that I didn't give myself alone in my room after reading one of those erotic novels I love so much.
Scott drops a kiss on the top of my head. It fuzzes warmth down my spine. Scott’s hot. Wow, I must be getting pretty buzzed to admit that one, even to myself. But it’s true. My best friend is smoking hot.
"You're only a senior in college. You have loads of time," my hot friend says.
I sit up after taking a pull on my drink. "No. No, I'm going to make up for all those boring vanilla years with Adam." I sway a little as I lower my voice, definitely drunk enough to spill TMI secrets. "Did you know he never even went down on me?" I slap my hand over my mouth with a gasp.
Please don’t let my drunk ass announce that I find Scott attractive next.
His mouth drops open at my cunnilingus revelation and he shakes his head with disgust. "I've never liked the guy, but this is beyond the pale. Who doesn’t…? That's one of my favorite things. What the hell is wrong with him?"
I'm barely listening, my brain thinking crazy, tipsy, outrageous things. But I'm drunk enough to say them and mean them. And if I am not mistaken, and I rarely am, this one is pretty brilliant. I clear my throat.
"I am going to make up for all this lost time. I'm going to make a fuckit list."
2
Breath hisses between Scott's lips. "A… did you just say what I think you said? Are you sure? I don't think that's a good idea."
I pull away a little to face him. "I know I'm still young and blah blah blah, but after this year, I have to be a grownup. I have to join the workforce and be responsible. College is the time to experiment and have fun and go wild. Instead, I've wasted it on a crap relationship that went nowhere. This is my last chance. Please, get on board. I can't do this without you."
He downs his Mike's with a grimace. "Amanda...I just don't know."
I bite my lip. "Please?"
He groans, slumping back into the couch. "Fine. How do you want to do this?"
I grin at him in triumph. My partner in crime. My best friend. He's always there for me, no matter what. He smiles back, his white teeth flashing, blue eyes sparkling. How did I ever forget how hot he is sometimes?
I clap my hands together. "Okay, first I need paper and a pen."
Scott reaches for the shelf under his black and glass coffee table and pulls a notepad and pen from one of the baskets.
Kicking my shoes off, I curl my feet up beneath me and set the pad on my lap. "The rule is I have to check everything off the list before the end of the school year so I get the full college experience. Then I can start my career and go on with my life with no regrets." Well, no other regrets. I banish Adam from my mind.
I scribble "Fuckit List" at the top of the page in big letters. "Okay. What should I do?"
Scott laughs and shrugs. "It's your list, love. What are your fantasies?"
My cheeks burn and I duck my head. "I've always had a bit of a crush on my chem professor."
He raises his brows. "Oh really? Why have you never told me about that?"
"Too embarrassed. I barely admitted it to myself."
"Well, there's your first item."
I draw a box beside my professor's name, tapping my pen against the pad. "Oh, what about a stranger from a club or something and I never get his name."
"What about a threesome?" His voice is teasing as he tickles my ribs.
"Yes!"
He shifts against the couch and clears his throat.
I add both to the list, grinning and getting a little wet at the idea of doing all these things. I was tired of missionary. I was tired of almost only getting orgasms at my own hand. I wanted adventure and kink. I wanted to do things I never thought I was brave enough to ask for.
Now, I would demand it.
I added a fourth box, but my mind was blank and foggy from booze and emotional drainage. I couldn't think of anything else. "I've got nothing. What about you?"
His brows furrow in thought before he shakes his head. "Why don't we take a break and maybe something will come to us."
"Yeah. Wanna watch TV?"
"Sure." He grabs the remote from the coffee table and clicks it on. I sink back into the cushions of the couch as he flips through the channels. He pauses on HBO; one of those late night sex-centric shows is playing. He raises and brow at me in question and I nod.
"Maybe it'll give us some inspiration."
He chuckles, the sound wrapping around me like a soft, fuzzy blanket. We sip at the last couple drinks and watch a documentary about a stripper who also moonlights as a boxer. It flashes between footage of her beating the shit out of someone to her writhing topless on a stage. Her tits are huge and swaying to the beat of the pulsing music and lights flashing across her skin, painting her in purples and reds.
Then it switches over to some sort of special about anal plugs, showing women bent over, jewels, and even furry tails in their asses. I gnaw on the inside of my cheek at the sight. Yet another thing I've never experienced.
It's weird sitting next to Scott, watching porn. But weirdly comfortable. Adam would never have done this with me. I never would have dared bring it up as a possibility.
"The high school football captain."
I jump at Scott's voice, lost in my forbidden fantasies. "Right, I always did think he was super-hot." I added him, grinning. It’s so nice to be so well-known.
The show changes to a full-on soft-core. A man and woman are moaning and rolling around in bed. She lies flat on her back, gasping for breath, her perky breasts heaving and bouncing. The man leans over her, kissing down her chest, his lips making contact with everything but her nipples. She arches, silently begging for him to take them into his mouth, but he doesn't. He keeps teasing her, getting close and closer, but never quite touching her where she wants. His arm disappears under the white sheets, down her body. Whatever he does under there draws cries of delight and pleasure from her mouth. Her eyes squeeze closed and she tosses her head back.
The man tosses away the sheet, baring the sight of his fingers buried in her. Baring his, oh my word, huge dick. I can't imagine taking one that big. Adam was much, much smaller.
The woman
begs for him to fuck her, squeezing her own tits. He pulls his hand out of her and replaces his fingers with his cock. Her mouth opens in an O as he slides in and out of her, his ass flexing in front of the screen.
They come together, shouting, which of course only happens in porn movies.
I squirm. Adam had never made me feel anything like that. I hadn't even bothered faking it as hard as that. And while I know this is a performance, in the moment, it feels real. And I ache with longing. To be touched. To be pleasured.
For someone to focus so completely on me like the man does to her.
Is that where I am now? Jealous of a porn star?
I shake it off, focusing on my list. What else? Who else?
Of course. "My boss."
Scott arches skeptical a brow. "You sure? Isn't he married?"
"No, he's divorced. And yes, I'm sure. I've read tons of sexy books where a young girl is seduced by her boss. It's crazy hot."
My entire body flushes, thinking about the last one I'd read. Where he'd bent the girl over his desk and spanked her. And then fucked her from behind against the cold glass of the window while she watched the cars and pedestrians below, wondering if anyone saw her from the building across the street.
Or maybe my professor would want to punish the naughty schoolgirl.
Does Scott have the air conditioning on? I'm burning up.
Scott throws me a wicked grin, his blue eyes sparkling. "I might want to read one of those."
I giggle into my drink. "You should. They're fun and hot as hell." I take another sip and consider my scrawled list. "Okay, I need at least one more."
We're silent for a moment, watching the two girls on the screen make out, grabbing each other's breasts, their moans loud, echoing in the loft apartment it was filmed in.
"How about a local celebrity?" Scott asks. “I hear the weather guy on 5 is an easy lay.”
The F#ck It List: The Complete Story Page 1
