Love's Ache (Gently Broken Series (Bonus)

by Ava Alise

  “Aye, man,” I say to Nard, snatching his attention from his pixie.

  He turns to me, eyes glazed over.

  “You see that girl in the red dress?”

  She’s laughing and taking shots with a few people I recognize from earlier.

  “Yeah,” he says.

  “She wouldn’t dance with me. She won’t dance with anyone, but look at her.”

  Nard looks at her again then looks at me confused.

  “Stuck up?” he asks.

  “Nah, stuck up girls are easy to spot. This girl though… she almost seems sad.”

  “What? You got a hard-on for sad girls now?”

  “No, asshole,” I laugh, “I just can’t figure her out.”

  Nard looks back up at Red who is now taking selfies with a group of people in the crowd, and he looks back at me, again confused.

  “She looks happy to me, man. Maybe she just doesn't like yo ass,” he laughs, pats me on the back, and takes the cute pixie girl to the dance floor.

  I look from them to Liz who looks away once she sees me look at her again.

  Fuck it. Sexy sad girl, I’ll play your game. Why not? I can’t drink anymore, and I plan on being balls deep in Haley later anyway, so what do I have to lose?

  I wave the bartender down and order a drink for the girl at the end of the bar who’s been eye fucking me for the last twenty minutes. The girl is cute as shit and greets me with a bright smile when she approaches.

  “I’m Kiara,” she says with a low sexy voice.

  “Chris,” I smile, and she blushes.

  She thanks me for the drink, and I invite her to sit. It doesn’t take me long to read her; she’s pretty obvious with how she bites her lip and makes lingering eye contact or how she keeps glancing down trying to size me up.

  Yeah, it’s big, honey, and I’m sure if I told you to meet me in the men’s room with no panties on in five minutes, you’d be there in two.

  Kiara and I sit through bar small talk. She tells me she’s visiting family for the weekend and desperately needed a drink. She continues to throw ‘fuck me’ hints the whole time we chat, sliding her hand up and down my leg until finally, I make an excuse to move away. I swear, I thought the girl was going to grab my junk.

  A few songs later, I’m dancing with a really nice girl and notice Red looking at me again. Up until now I’ve played along and pretended not to notice, but she’s standing just a few feet from me. She has my fucking attention, and I can’t look away. I’m totally aware it’s a dick move to be dancing with one girl and eyeing another, but luckily, it’s a slow song and this girl has no idea what I’m looking at. Red’s eyes are a bit hazier than they were earlier, and she’s looking a lot less steady on her feet. I try hard not to let my eyes fall down her body because this time she’s not looking away either. Instead, she stares hard, holding me in her gaze, then she hands her drink to her friend and starts walking toward me.

  For a second, my eyes move to the girl I’m dancing with as Red moves in on us.

  “Excuse me. Do you mind?” Red says, tapping the girl on the shoulder.

  The girl looks from her to me and back again, and before I can say anything, the girl shrugs a quick ‘fine’ and walks away.

  She’s pissed. I probably didn’t handle that too well.

  “You’re staring at me,” Red says as she places both of her hands on my shoulders. I feel like we are at my eight grade ‘Sadie Hawkins’ dance, so I hook an arm around her waist and pull her closer. She stumbles, falling against my chest.

  “Are you drunk, Red?” I laugh as she straightens.

  “No…” she bats her glassy eyes up at me.

  “Okay, kind of, but you don’t try to change the subject on me, mister,” she laughs, and I can’t help but smile. We are dancing, sort of, but she’s mainly just leaning against me.

  “So why were you looking at me like that?”

  “Because I know what I want,” I say.

  The smile falls from her lips as if she’s expecting me to say something else and blushes. Liz is as sexy as she is beautiful, and blushing looks good on her, drunk or not.

  We stay half dancing half standing on the dance floor as I wait for her to say something, gazes at me for a half second longer then she simply says, “Give me your phone.”

  I hand her my phone, and she adds her number under the name Mrs. Divorced.

  “Call me when I’m not drunk,” she says with a smile then she walks away for the third time tonight.

  An hour later, Nard and I are headed back to the house… or should I say Nard, his sexy pixie, and me.

  They’re violating my backseat—and no, they’re not fucking—but from the sound of it, they might as well be. I’ll be kicking Nard’s drunken ass tomorrow. Nobody violates the Camaro… Well, only I violate the Camaro. We pull up to the house around 3:15 a.m. and from the looks of it, the house party is winding down. Only a handful of people sit in the living room around the TV playing Call of Duty.

  “Aye, where’d y'all two assholes disappear to?” asks our roommate, Paul, without looking up.

  “The Lounge,” Nard says.

  “It got a little crowded in here,” he continues, eyes casually sweeping the room; he’s probably scanning for Rita.

  Paul snorts a laugh when the true meaning of Nard’s comment hits him. “Well, you should be good now. Just about everyone left. Oh, Chris, Haley was looking for you.”

  Grabbing my phone, I shoot Haley a quick text.

  ME: Where are you?

  HALEY: In bed.

  ME: You should be in mine.

  HALEY: I am.

  My brows shoot up, and I laugh. I say goodnight to the guys and head to my room. When I open my door Haley is in my bed, lying on her stomach, in only a thong and heels.

  “Fuck, Haley,” I groan.

  She giggles and walks over as I pull my shirt over my head.

  “How long you been in here?” I ask as I watch her kiss a slow trail down my chest.

  “Not long,” she says as she kisses.

  “Mmm,” I groan again when she starts to rub me through my pants.

  This girl knows exactly what she wants, and she goes for it. I wonder if she’s as bold with anyone else or if it’s just me? It would really suck for the next guy if, by the time she settles down, she ends up a bore.

  “Wait? How’d you know I didn’t have another girl with me?” I ask.

  “I saw you guys pull up and once I realized the girl was with Nard, I walked across the yard and came in the back door,” she says then starts pulling at my belt buckle.

  Before I can say another word, she has me out of my pants and in her mouth. If I had planned on arguing about anything else, it sure as fuck didn’t matter anymore.

  A little over an hour later Haley and I are lying in my bed completely naked, her eyes heavy-lidded as she runs a hand through her hair.

  “You seemed a little weird at first,” she says, exhaling a heavy breath. “You never worried about my random fuck pop-ups before. Do you have a girlfriend now or something?”

  “No,” I answer with a shrug. “It just dawned on me how fucked up it would’ve been if I brought a girl home and you were already in my bed,” I say, then grab my boxers and jeans and slide back into them.

  “Well actually,” she smirks, “it could be fun. We can always add another to the party.”

  I chuckle and toss her clothes to her. “You’re wild.”

  When I walk Haley out, I notice JJ sitting at the bar, the house is quiet; everyone else must have either left or gone to bed.

  “Aye, man, you good?” I ask.

  He looks up at me from his phone. “Yeah, man, just shit.” He shrugs, gesturing to the phone. “What’s going on with you? You’re dating Haley now?”

  “Nah. We’re just hanging out. She’s a great neighbor,” I say, trying to keep a straight face.

  “Yeah, I fucking bet,” he laughs.

  JJ and I have been friends for a few yea
rs now, and outside of Nard, I’d say he may be one of my best friends.

  “Let me guess. She was borrowing sugar in your room for the last hour?”

  “Exactly.”

  “You’re so full of shit,” he laughs. “Seriously though, she’s hot. I know you got MJ and all, but why not give it a real try with her?”

  “What is it with you guys rushing to give your balls to these girls? Ty just moved out with his girl, Nard ducking his ex, and now you’re telling me to give my balls to Haley. I love my fucking balls right where they are. I’m good,” I say, then reach past him for his empty shot glass and pour both of us a drink. “Honestly. I don’t think about her much when I’m not here. There’s just nothing there with Haley. She’s great, but it’s just sex.”

  “So, what? You’re never going to date?”

  “I won’t say never, but having a girlfriend just feels like ‘extra’, you know? MJ and I are good.”

  He shrugs, and we drink. JJ is usually carefree and the jokester of the bunch, but every now and then his inner bitch shows up and he comes at me with these heartfelt notions. He’s the only other former teen father I know, and it’s one of the reasons we’ve grown so close. His situation and living arrangement with his daughter is completely opposite from mine, but we both understand each other. Constantly juggling the responsible father hat with the Let’s go get into some shit to the twenty-two-year-old hat can be tough; still, we nut up and handle our business. I won’t be complicating things for myself anytime soon.

  LIZ

  Uhhhhhh.

  My head.

  I feel like I was hit by a truck.

  I awake in my room, lying across the bed as if I just collapsed on top of it, still in my dress and heels. My head throbs to the beat of my heart, and I want to punch things.

  How in the hell did I get here?

  Kicking off my heels, I crawl up to my pillow, which looks like it’s vibrating, climb under my blanket, and fall back to sleep.

  A few hours later, I awake to the sound of laughter coming from the other room. My head has finally stopped throbbing, but my throat is so dry that I can barely swallow. Finding my footing, I make my way to my bedroom door.

  The hall is a bit fuzzy, I must still be buzzed. The further I get into the hall, the louder the laughter gets, sending my body into ‘kill me’ mode, as it starts flirting with my headache again.

  The hall in our apartment is short, and even though it should take less than a 20 seconds to reach the end, it seems a mile long right now. My feet slide lazily over the thick gray carpet as I pass the many photos we have lining the walls that display pivotal moments in our lives together. A mid-sized portrait of Ros and I embracing in flowery dresses at our eighth-grade dance, a few more photos of the same size at Junior and Senior Prom, and a larger one of at high school graduation.

  Ros and Brooke are sitting at the table in the attached dining area looking at Ros’ phone.

  “You’re finally up, boo, come look at the pictures from last night. They are hilarious!” Ros says.

  “It’s like 3p.m., Liz. We had to come check on you a few times to make sure you were still alive,” Brooke says, concern lighting her eyes.

  “Water,” I croak. My damn throat feels like I’ve been screaming all night in a desert of dust.

  “Already got it covered.” Brooke nods to the pitcher of ice water and glasses on the table.

  I collapse into the nearest chair and pour a glass of water. Ros slides into the chair next to me and begins flipping through her photos. I don’t remember taking any pictures, but there I am, smiling too damn big and dancing too damn hard. My eyebrows furrow in confusion.

  “Don’t remember, huh? Girl, you were so wasted!” Ros laughs, reading my mind.

  “How are you feeling? We cut you off once you started hugging people,” Brooke says with a grin.

  “I’m good, my throat hurts though, and I still might be a little buzzed… Wait, did you say hugging people?”

  “Yep.”

  They both laugh.

  “Your throat is probably hurting because you kept yelling “I’M MRS. DIVORCED, BITCH!” People kept high-fiving you and buying you drinks…see.” Ros flips through a few more pictures.

  Strangers, all complete strangers, and I’m smiling with them like I’ve known them for years.

  Ros points to few more pictures of me and random people, then one of me and a person who’s not so random.

  “Wait, I remember him.”

  “Oh yeah, rebound guy,” Ros says, smiling.

  I roll my eyes at her.

  Fragments of memories start to surface in my mind as I look at the picture of me pressed against Teeth…the guy with the big smile…the guy who made me blush.

  “So he ended up getting his dance after all,” I say with a slight smirk, shaking my head.

  “Huh? No, you went up to him while he was dancing with someone else; cut the other girl off completely,” Ros adds.

  “Oh god, are you serious?!” I say.

  Ros and Brooke, both sporting Cheshire grins, nod adamantly. I didn’t actually do that, did I? Ugh, I can’t believe I actually did that.

  “Hold on, I remember him staring at me. I remember him dancing with a girl, but he kept looking over her shoulder at me. I don’t remember grabbing his hand, though… Oh my god!” I cover my face in embarrassment.

  “He was so nice, Liz. He even carried you to the Uber car for us later that night.”

  “Carried?!” I exclaim.

  “Haha, I’m kidding. You had a lot of fun…I did my job well,” Ros says, looking accomplished.

  “Liz, you’re such a lightweight!” Brooke teases.

  I place my elbow on the table and then rest my forehead in my hand, covering my face again. I’m so embarrassed.

  We look at more pictures; many are of the four of us doing group selfies, and a few of just me and Ros. As shitty as I feel now, I really did have fun last night… the parts I remember anyway.

  I down a few glasses of water as we sit talking about the guys Ros and Brooke met last night. Brooke seems hopeful about this guy Caleb she met last night; apparently, they’ve been texting all morning.

  I wish Sean had come; I probably wouldn’t have embarrassed myself as much. Well, shit, I actually might have embarrassed myself more, but if he was there, at least he would’ve seen how happy I am about my divorce. Maybe it would’ve been enough to prove to him that I’m really over my ex-husband. Maybe…

  “Lizzy, where’d you go?” Brooke says, staring at me.

  “Huh?”

  “You kind of zoned out on us there, you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  “You better not be thinking about Sean!” Ros says sternly.

  “You need to start thinking about that sexy rebound,” Brooke adds, smiling.

  “I wish y’all would stop calling him that,” I huff as my two friends laugh.

  “Fine, fine.”

  We make small talk for a few minutes before I excuse myself for a much-needed shower.

  As of this morning, I’m officially divorced. I’m so happy to be rid of Grayson once and for all, but I wonder if Sean will feel the same. I’m excited to tell him, but I don’t want to get my hopes up. My divorce not being final was his reason for leaving, and even if I don’t understand the suddenness of his decision, it doesn’t make it any less real. I still miss him, and now I’m officially free to be totally his.

  I grab my phone and move to his contact, allowing my finger to hover over the call button.

  Flashes of the cold look he gave me when he told me he was done, and the anger behind his words, grip my chest.

  What if he doesn’t care?

  The fear of rejection sinks in. I’m actually in a better mood right now than I have been in weeks. Well, minus the hangover, maybe I’ll give myself a little more time before having to deal with this shit. Officially cutting all ties to Grayson deserves to be celebrated, and if for no other reason, fo
r my sister.

  I let the phone slide out of my hand and onto the bed. Taking a deep breath, I stand and head toward my shower.

  The doorbell rings, and I see Ros get up from the table to let our friend, Marie, in as I emerge from my bedroom. I think my buzz is finally wearing off… and I feel even more like shit.

  “Hey, Marie.”

  “Hey, girls, damn y’all look like hell!” Marie says, laughing.

  I look over at Ros and Brooke, and for the first time, I notice their current state. Brooke looks flushed, her blue eyes are bloodshot, and her long dirty blonde hair is pulled up in a ponytail at the top of her head, with random pieces falling from the back. She is wearing a frumpy sleep dress and fluffy house shoes. Ros looks dead tired even though she seems pretty alert and is wearing an old t-shirt and jogging pants. Her hair is also pulled back into a ponytail and her usual soft caramel complexion is pale by comparison. Hangovers are a bitch!

  “It was Lizzy’s divorce celebration last night, so we went to The Lounge.”

  “Oh congratulations, Liz!” Marie smiles. “So to top off the celebration, y’all ready for some mani/pedis?”

  “Um, heck yeah we’re ready for mani/pedis!” Ros says in a lighthearted tone.

  Ros and I met Marie at school. She’s in the Cosmetology program, and once a month she comes to practice her new skill before her test. During these tests, they make her demonstrate whatever she learned for the month, and it turns into a win-win situation for us all.

  “Cool. Liz, you missed out last month. We learned hair color rinses, and everyone got to try out a new color,” Marie says before she walks out the door.

  “Girl, you lucked out, those rinses were HORRIBLE!” Ros whispers after the door closes behind Marie.

  “Yeah, I washed that mess out as soon as she left. It was so bad!” Brooke adds.

  “Damn,” I say, then look at my hands, wondering if I’m about to regret letting her do my nails.

  Marie comes back inside, carrying three foot baths and a large bag of supplies that smells like nail polish remover and acrylic.

  “So it’s midterm demonstration time, and I was assigned mani/pedis. I’ve done them before, so I’m pretty confident, especially with the acrylic, but I need to practice a bit with the gel nails,” Marie says with her back to us as she sets up in the living room. The three of us exchange a look of concern.