by Silla Webb
I climb into my Jeep, then cue up my sad playlist. I take the time to buckle myself and the cupcakes that I could have possibly shoplifted, then I drive home to the sounds of Gabby Barrett pouring her heart out about a cheatin’ man and what she hopes happens to him. Me too, Gabby, me too.
*~*
“Go away, Erin,” I mumble from my perch on the kitchen floor. My sister knocks on my door for the fourth time in the past hour. I have no desire to see or speak to anyone right now. I need this time to be mad, sad, and whatever the hell else I want to be. Besides, I don’t think it would be good for anyone to ever see a health and fitness professional in my current state.
I’m sitting in my kitchen floor, every light in the house is off with the exception of the small flames flickering from the fake fireplace. I’m in between dressed and undressed—sweatpants and sports bra. My hair is pulled into a bun, but I seem to have forgotten a few strands hanging loosely to the side of my face that may or may not have chunks of frosting in them. My sad playlist is playing softly through my iPad. Sing it, Demi, cause I sure as shit need someone to tell me they love me on this day. Surrounding me are tissues that I used when I sobbed hysterically after I realized I picked up carrot cake cupcakes and the cupcake wrappers from said cupcakes.
Even though I hate carrot cake, I inhaled those little bitches like I hadn’t ate in days. In my hand I clutch a bottle of Peppermint schnapps, having already gone through the three bottles of Moscato I had in the house.
“Not, Erin,” the voice behind the door booms.
“Don’t care.” I chug another drink, cringing over the sharp taste. I forgot that I don’t like candy cane shit.
“Jo,” Bryn scolds, “you have three fuckin’ seconds to open
this door before I start taking shit apart.”
“Bryn”—I swallow the lump in my throat; I don’t want to
cry anymore tonight—“I can’t.”
“You leave me no choice,” she mutters. “Where is that damn
crowbar?”
At the sound of metal clanging, I know Erin and Kyle will lose their shit if Bryn’s crazy ass does any type of damage to this door.
“What the—” comes from Erin, but I don’t hear what comes after because I shriek, “Damnit, Bryn, wait!”
I haul my ass off the floor and wobble as I gain my footing. I’ve reached the completely sloshed portion of the evening. Hello, Drunk Jordan, thanks for stopping by. “I. Am. Coming.” I stomp to the front door.
After a couple tries, maybe like five, I get the deadbolt unfastened and the door opened. On the other side I find the very concerned, yet amused faces of my best friend and sister. They appraise my current state, and a complete look of confusion clouds both of their faces. It only takes seconds before those damn tears resurface, and all aboard for the hot mess express. I’m mumbling what I’m pretty sure ain’t even words, chugging schnapps between utterances of my new vocabulary, and flailing my hands about as I open the flood gates on every emotion and thought I currently have. Bryn or Erin have yet to get in a word because every time they open their mouths to speak, I spew more unintelligible words, sniff, or sob. Bryn leads me over to the couch, dodging the cupcake containers and wrappers.
Erin stops and studies the collection of trash and wine bottles littering my kitchen floor, then she looks up at Bryn and mutters, “Shit, this is bad, bad, bad.” Holding up a wrapper as if it holds the explanation of my meltdown. Bryn stares at Erin in shock, and I lock eyes with her because I know what she’s getting at. “You ate carrot cake.” She says it as a statement, not a question. I agree with a nod, which coincidentally ejects a piece of frosting from my lose strands. Would it be too gross if I picked that up to eat it?
“Could someone tell me what in the actual hell is going on?”
Bryn asks.
“This sugar and spice brings things not so nice,” Erin explains. “If whatever this is made her eat carrot cake, it’s bad.”
“It was an accident,” I mutter, hiccupping around sobs. I
intended to eat chocolate cake, but fuckin’ Gia.
“I have so many questions.” Bryn sighs “I have no clue how you eat cake by accident, but anyhoo; what the hell happened, Jo?”
The look of sincerity on her face is all it takes for me to
let it fly. “I lost my cobwebs.”
It takes mere moments for it to register with both Bryn and Erin what I mean.
“You had the sex?” my sister shouts out at the same time Bryn shouts, “The no-no box still works?”
“Yes, you’re both smartasses,” I answer them. “I had life-changing, incredible, passionate sex.”
The shit-eating grin on Bryn’s face tells me she knows who gave me the pleasure and made me cry. “With Madden.” Yet again, Bryn forms this as a statement not a question.
My sister’s face lights up as she exclaims, “Jo, sex shouldn’t make you cry.”
“When?” Bryn cuts in, her tone cautious.
“Night before last.”
And as if a lightbulb flickered in her brain, Bryn chimes, “Ah! And he canceled his training today.”
“Yep, and I haven’t talked to him since I left his house yesterday morning,” I whisper. “He didn’t answer my texts or my calls.”
“Damn,” Erin mutters. “I’m going to have Kyle slash his tires or some shit.”
“So, nothing from him since the deed?” comes from Bryn.
Wincing in humiliation, I say, “Oh, I’ve seen him, just haven’t talked to him.” Erin and Bryn look at each other in confusion then back at me, waiting for me to explain. “I saw Madden and Belle at Publix this afternoon—with Gia.”
“Fuck!” they mutter in unison.
“Fuckin’ forget the tires,” my sister says, snatching her phone from her pocket. “Kyle is too pussy for the job I need done. I think I know a couple of guys who owe me a favor for getting their sentences reduced..”
“Don’t,” I tell her quickly, placing my hand over her phone. “Let it go. I knew better. I knew this wouldn’t work. I knew I shouldn’t get involved with a client. I knew she was his one, and I went ahead and fell in love with that piece of man meat anyway.”
Stunned silence. A foreboding air clings to the space, leaving us each irrevocably quiet. Which is odd given the three females occupying the room have never been at a loss for words.
“You love him?” Bryn asks.
“All of him,” Erin asks, “and not just his man meat?”
I chuckle because leave it to my sister, the supposed professional lawyer, to help ease the tension out of the room. I love her so fuckin’ much.
“Yep,” I tell them. “I think I knew I was going to love him the minute he realized I had a clit and not a dick. I actually fell in love with him when I watched him slay his goals in the gym, when I watched him cower to his momma and cater to his daughter. I fell in love with him a little more every day, and I knew fuckin’ better.”
I don’t want to hear their explanations or advice. I did this. I fell in love with a man I knew wanted someone else. I hold my hand up to stop both of them from speaking. “I watched that man comfort his baby girl and be everything she needed him to be without hesitation. I fell head over heels in love with him, and I knew it should have never happened. I knew what his goals were, and I knew he had something for Gia in the past. I was a damn fool for ever thinking that I could compete with her.”
My sister’s face is a mixture of somberness and rage. I know she’s mentally running through all the scenarios of how she can legally fuck Madden over. She’s loyal like that. Bryn paces my small living room, shaking her head.
“Jo,” Bryn stops, “don’t you think you should talk to Mad first?”
“No.” I’m adamant. “I can’t see him, Bryn. I have to let him go.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
MADDEN
“Well, fuckin’ hell,” Bryn greets as I enter the gym. “Look who found the balls to show his face at Dumb
Belles.”
The fuck?
“You’ve got some nerve—” She’s cut off when Jordan appears at the front desk.
“I’ll take this from here, Bryn. Thanks.”
Bryn eyes me cautiously, and I ain’t got the slightest fuckin’ clue what the hell is goin’ on. They can’t seriously be this enraged that I canceled my appointment yesterday, can they?
“You’re sure, Jo, because I’ve got a five-pound dumbbell ready to shove up hi—”
“Bryn! Please, you’re causin’ a scene.”
Bryn walks around the desk, pointin’ at her eyes with her index and middle fingers then stabbin’ them in my direction. “I’m fuckin’ watchin’ you, Davenport.” Her attempt at shoulder checkin’ me on her exit causes her to squall and mutter profanities, and I’d fuckin’ laugh if I weren’t scared for my well-bein’ at this exact moment.
Fuckin’ hell. Women are scary. Southern women are fuckin’ nightmares.
“I take it you’re pissed?” There ain’t no sense in beatin’ around the bush. I took the pussy way out and ignored Jordan for two solid days, and she deserves far better than that. But I had to get in the right head space. Bein’ with her, holdin’ her in my arms … fuck. When she startled awake and pushed away from my hold, jumpin’ from the bed like her ass was on fire, I knew then she regretted makin’ love to me. She barely spoke two words as she rushed through the house in the dark, tryin’ to find her clothes. She hurried out the front door with a simple kiss on the cheek and a friendly goodbye, once again puttin’ me in the friend zone. I laid my heart on the line and had to prepare for the hammer to drop, smashin’ it to pieces.
She ran too fast.
Her eyes were filled with utter regret.
And I was completely humiliated that I instigated a moment between us that she wasn’t ready for. Hell, if she even fuckin’ wanted it to begin with. But I gave her an out, and she didn’t fuckin’ take it. Am I that out of touch with the opposite sex that I can’t even understand their fuckin’ hints or body language anymore?
Jordan rolls her eyes and stomps down the hallway toward her office, but I’m hot on her fuckin’ heels. As I cut the corner to step over the threshold of her office, she sneers and slams the door, nearly smackin’ me right in the damn face. If it wasn’t for my quick reaction, jarrin’ my kicks between the door and the jamb, that woulda been one harsh smack upside the fuckin’ head. I push my way into her office and slam the door closed behind me.
“Fine, you’re in my office. Might as well get on with this…”
“Woah, Jo. What the hell?” I throw my hands up in defense, taken aback by the dark rage rollin’ off her in torrential waves.
“You’ve exceeded your expectations under my training. I’m releasing you from my roster. You’re free to continue your membership here at Dumb Belles to train solo.” She pauses and inhales an infuriating breath, her face flamin’ red. “Or I hear Gia is acceptin’ clients, so maybe she’ll open up for you.”
“I miss one fuckin’ session and you’re cuttin’ me loose?”
She fumbles around with the mess of papers on her desk, refusin’ to look my way. “Gia was headin’ toward the sauna last I saw her, if you wanna inquire about her services.”
Fuck this. I make my way around her desk, squattin’ beside her. “Why the hell would I want her when I have you?” I grip her chin in my grasp and force her to look at me. “Answer me? Why, Jo?”
“You don’t have me,” she mutters, fightin’ back tears. Damn it.
In one fell-swoop I clutch her waist in my hands and lift her from the chair, then plant my ass and place her on my lap, her legs straddlin’ my waist. She pushes against my chest and fights to get away, tears streamin’ down her face. “No! Let me go, Mad! No!”
“Fuckin’ stop, Jo!” I pull her face toward me and kiss the fallen tears away, clutching my hands around the back of her head as her forehead falls to mine. “You’re mine. You said it your-fuckin’-self, and you ain’t takin’ that away from me.”
“Does Gia know that?” she bites out, choking on a sob.
“Why the hell are we talkin’ about Gia, Jo?”
“I ate fuckin’ carrot cake because of you, Madden! Carrot cake!”
The hell is she spoutin’ off about? “I’m sorry, what?”
“I was so nervous for your session Wednesday, but the good kinda nervous. The kind where butterflies hum in your tummy then take flight when you finally see the man you’re in love with. But you didn’t show! You didn’t answer my texts, my calls. Then when I saw the two of you at the store, I knew…”
She collapses against my chest, cryin’ so damn hard her body shakes with each sob. I ain’t even had her as my girl for more than a week and I already broke her damn heart. But something about her rambling confession pulls at my gut, so I replay each word she said over and over in my mind, trying to make sense of it.
The kind where butterflies hum in your tummy then take flight when you finally see the man you’re in love with.
My mind is a mess of thoughts, jumbled up and fightin’ for my attention.
I broke her heart.
She didn’t regret our night together.
She’s in love with me.
And the fact I’ve carried close to my heart for far too long without ever breathin’ it aloud—I love Jordan.
I’m smacked out of my thoughts—quite fuckin’ literally—when Jordan’s open hand slaps against my face.
“How dare you!” Her open hand slaps me again.
“I admit to you that I crushed on you since I was a teen!” Her fist pounds against my chest.
“I give you a part of myself that I haven’t given any man in … well, it doesn’t fuckin’ matter how long, and you do this!” She slaps me again. “You ignore me and make me eat fuckin’ carrot cake! I hat—”
I take her by surprise by catchin’ her balled-up fist with my left hand, clutchin’ the back of her head tighter within my grasp with my right. I pull her down to my lips before the statement she’ll only regret can be put out into the air. I know she’s angry. I know she’s hurt. And she can beat the ever-lovin’ fuck out of me later if it makes her feel better. But I can’t let her breathe another damn second without knowing how I feel about her.
I pull away from the kiss and breathe against her lips, “I fuckin’ love you, Jordan Williams.” She chokes on another sob, her forehead falling to mine again.
“Don’t…” she pleads, but I kiss away all the tears, muttering, “I love you,” after every peck.
“You’re mine. You promised.”
“But you…”
“I know I hurt you, Jo, but it wasn’t intentional. You fuck with my head, darlin’. I knew if I saw you the next day, and that same look was in your eyes as it was when you left me that mornin’… I couldn’t bear it, darlin’. I had to retrace every moment from that night to make sure that I didn’t overlook a signal from you that you weren’t ready. To make sure that I hadn’t forced you into something you didn’t want.”
I scrub my hand over my face, pissed that we’re fightin’ over something that could have easily been avoided had I come to see her.
“Oh, Mad!” Her lip quivers, and it’s the most pitiful thing I’ve ever fuckin’ seen. I kiss her cheek and inhale her scent, tryin’ to calm the overwhelmin’ pace of my heart. “I was scared Belle would see me, and I didn’t know how she’d react! I didn’t know if what happened would be a one-time thing, or…”
I hold her cheeks between my palms, kissin’ her once on the lips before tearin’ into her. One final explanation to lay this all to rest. “Fuckin’ hell, woman. I love you. Do you understand that?” Her eyes glisten with unshed tears, but the corner of her lip quivers as a smile attempts to form. “I fuckin’ love you, Jo. Belle loves you. You’re the missin’ piece to our little family, and all of this shit over the last two days has been pointless.”
She breaks free of my hold on her and pins me against the chair, her lips
on mine in a kiss so forceful and seductive my cock jumps against her. “I love you. I love you so much, Madden. My god, I’ve fought these feelings for so long, and I was so scared of the moment you’d finally meet your last milestone, when you’d go after the one who got away.” She sniffles, laughing to herself. “I knew all along it was Gia. And when you didn’t answer my calls, then I saw the two of you at Publix—”
“You were there?”
Jordan nods and pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, biting down.
“Why didn’t you come to me?”
She shakes her head, a fresh wave of tears spillin’ over her lashes. I quickly wipe them away with the pads of my thumbs. “Gia was with you.”
My heart races against my chest, and I breathe through the impendin’ panic threatenin’ to attack. “Oh, darlin’. I’m so sorry. Gia was there. But not with me. We just ran into her, and she wouldn’t leave me the hell alone.” I hold her against me and breathe, her sweet scent calming me almost instantly.
“But she was the one who got away, Mad! Right!? Isn’t that what you told me in the beginning?”
I shake my head. “No, darlin’. Gia means nothing to me. I did have a crush on her in high school, but she was just as mean and nasty then as she is now. The more I worked with you, the more I realized you’re the woman I want to be with. I didn’t think I was good enough. Gia means nothing to me, Jo. I promise you.”
“Oh, Mad.” She collapses against my chest, arms locked around my neck in a tight embrace. She loves me?
“Forgive me, Jo?”
Jordan grips my cheeks and kisses me, sweet and soft and all-consuming.
“Absolutely.
“I love you, darlin’. I promise to never hurt you again.” I caress her cheek, and she smiles softly against my hand.
“I love you too, Mad. Always.” Damn. Right to my heart. Pierced and claimed.
“You really ate fuckin’ carrot cake?” I ask, hoping to see her smile and hear her laugh.
