Something So Perfect

by Natasha Madison

  “Hello.” Her voice is still sleepy. I don’t know who is on the phone, but she bolts up, grabbing the sheet from falling down her chest. “What are you talking about?” she asks, throwing her legs off the bed and rushing to her closet. “Where are they saying that he was?” I get up, grabbing my phone, seeing the twenty-seven missed calls from Cooper, along with one text.

  You better be fucking sleeping! IN YOUR OWN BED!!!

  My eyebrows pinch together in confusion while Karrie comes out of her closet, dressed in yoga pants and a sweater that falls off a shoulder, showing her perfect skin. My cock must think it’s time to play because he’s ready for action.

  “You need to get dressed,” she says, throwing her phone on her bed. “My father is on his way here.” She runs around the room, talking to herself again.

  “Why does this happen to me?” She walks to the bathroom, then comes back into the bedroom. “I should have gone with my gut.” She continues while she picks up my boxers that are lying on the floor the minute the doorbell rings. Her face goes whiter than white. “Oh. My. God.” She throws my boxers at me while she walks to the window and looks outside. “It's my father.” And she ties her hair on top of her head, pacing the room. “Oh my God, this is horrible. Get dressed. Meet me downstairs.” And she runs out of the room, down the stairs, yelling, “Coming.”

  I run my hands over my face, grabbing my boxers and putting them on with the basketball shorts that I put on the bedside table last night. I walk down the stairs into the living room. I stop in the doorway when I take in that it isn’t just Karrie’s dad, but it’s the coach and Robert, all sitting there, their eyes landing straight on me.

  “Well, look at this,” Karrie’s dad, Doug, says, folding his arms over his chest, but I don’t say anything because the door opens again with Mindy, the PR girl, coming in.

  She stops at the doorway, looking me up and down, taking me in. “Perhaps you could put on a shirt.” I hear Karrie from the side of the room sitting next to her father, her knee bouncing with nerves.

  “Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Mindy says, walking into the room, taking the remote, and turning on the television.

  “It looks like the bad boy has come out to play in New York.”

  The second I hear the broadcaster’s voice on the television I look up and see that they have a picture of me sitting on top of a bar with my shirt off, a blonde straddling my lap while she pours tequila down my throat, my hands in the air.

  “These pictures were leaked from a credible source and my question is what is Doug going to do now?”

  Mindy turns off the television while everyone in the room turns to me. Robert is shooting daggers at me. Doug has steam ready to blow out of his ears, and Coach is sitting back on the couch, his leg moving in the beat of Karrie’s leg also.

  “This is a fucking nightmare,” Doug says, then addresses Karrie. “I thought you could handle him.”

  “Watch it,” I say before I can even think that I’m talking to my boss, and her father. His eyebrows move up, surprised while I continue, “This isn’t Karrie’s fault in the least. Let me see those pictures,” I tell Mindy, knowing full well she has them in the bag she is carrying, and I’m not mistaken. She takes out a folder, opening it, and giving me about fifteen pictures, all of different spots. One is with me standing on the bar, my hands in the air, my hair slicked back. One is me sitting on a bar stool, picking up my shirt to show my abs. I look at the same picture that they posted on the television screen. I give the pictures back to Mindy, who smirks at me.

  “We need to diffuse the situation,” Mindy says. “We can say he snuck out.”

  “Bullshit,” I say. “I was here all night long. Those pictures were taken more than three years ago, maybe even four.”

  They all stop talking and look at me. Robert is the first one to talk. “How can you be sure?”

  “My tattoo.” I point to the tattoo that I got across my ribs. “I got this the summer three years ago. In the picture you can see I don’t have it. Call bullshit on their pictures. Let them get the ‘credible source.’ I bet they can’t come up with one.”

  Karrie gets up and walks over to my side. “He’s been nothing but on his best behavior. I can guarantee that he didn’t go anywhere last night because he went up to bed before me and I slept on the couch, so if he had left I would have heard him. Now,” she continues, “I need coffee.” She looks up at me, making me smile. “You want one?”

  “Yup, I do,” I say, following her out of the room while I listen to the four of them start talking to each other. “Babe,” I whisper to her when we are out of earshot, but she shakes her head and walks to the kitchen, getting the coffee going. I go to the fridge, getting the orange juice out and drinking from the container.

  “Matthew, is getting a glass too much work for you?” she snaps at me while she grabs a glass and hands it to me.

  I take it and put it back on the counter while I continue to finish the rest of the juice.

  I throw the container into the garbage. “I didn’t want to waste a glass when I knew I was going to finish what was left of it,” I say, leaning against the counter. “We going to talk about this?” I ask her, watching her back stiffen while she stands there staring at the coffee pot.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt you two.”

  I turn to the doorway where Doug stands with his hands in his pockets.

  “We would like to discuss perhaps a press release.”

  I nod my head and turn to Karrie, who isn’t making eye contact with me or her father. Instead, she is pouring coffee into two cups.

  When she doesn’t say anything, her father clears his throat. “Is there something else that we should be talking about?”

  Karrie puts the coffee pot down and levels her gaze on her father. “There’s absolutely nothing else we should discuss, unless you want to discuss how you thought I wasn’t doing my job. We could discuss that. We could discuss how you didn’t trust me to tell you it wasn’t last night.” Her tone is curt and direct.

  “Honey, that isn’t what we meant.” He starts to say, but Karrie puts her hand up, stopping him from talking.

  “I know what you meant, and to be honest I’m insulted. I take my job seriously, and if you thought I was the right person for the job, you wouldn’t be second-guessing me. Now,” she says, picking up one of the coffee cups on the counter and walking away, “let’s go hear this statement you want to put out.” She walks out of the room, leaving the second coffee on the counter.

  “If you hurt her, I’ll bury you so far down they won’t find you.” He starts to say while my spine goes straight.

  “I’ll give you the shovel.” Is all I say, picking up the coffee that she made for me and walking out of the room. I put the cup down in the hallway, going upstairs to my bedroom to get myself a T-shirt.

  I pull my phone from my pocket and dial Cooper. He answers before the first ring even finishes.

  “Tell me that isn’t you.” He blows out a long breath.

  “It’s me, but from three years ago. It was before I got the tattoo on my ribs,” I tell him, sitting down to take a minute.

  “I didn’t even notice.”

  “Yeah, I didn’t either till I saw my hand in the air. Anyway, I just wanted to touch base with you. Everyone is here. We are going to discuss a statement.”

  “Yeah, Robert is going to call me in a few. So we will talk after. Text your mom, please. She has been freaking out since this morning. I would also text Allison. She started cropping you out of the family pictures!” He laughs and then hangs up.

  I send a group text to both my mother and sister with one sentence.

  It’s an old picture. Check my ribs. No tattoo.

  Allison answers right away.

  I knew it.

  I respond with a, No, you didn’t.

  I put the phone away when I hear a knock on my door. “Come in.”

  Karrie opens the door and walks in. “Hey. We are waiting
for you.”

  “I was just calling home to give them the heads-up.” I look back down at my hands. “They don’t need this.”

  She closes the door and walks to me, her body fitting in the middle of my legs. My hands go up her legs to her ass and then finally land on her hips. “I’m sorry.”

  Her hands go to my hair, running them through it. “I should be apologizing. I freaked out without thinking. I was so scared that it was a picture of us walking down the street or something that I was relieved when that picture came out.”

  I smile at her. “You’re happy a picture of me with another woman is circulating?” I shake my head, thinking of how crazy this woman is.

  “No, not that part, the part where it’s still just you and me without anyone knowing.” She leans down and kisses my lips. “Now let's go and get this thing over with so we can go back and see if third base will slip into a home run.”

  “You know that I don’t play baseball, right? Hockey,” I tell her, thinking how I know nothing about baseball.

  “Yeah, yeah, it’s just easier to put sex terms in baseball instead of hockey.” She drops her hands from my hair and grabs my arms, dragging me out the door, dropping our hands the minute we get to the second floor but not before she squeezes it to give me her strength.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Karrie

  I watch the city fade away till we are in the clouds. I close my eyes, blocking out all the buzz in the plane. We have been on the road for the last six days and I’m dying to climb into my bed. It’s been six days of dodging the press. They are trying to get anything they can to make Matthew be the asshole.

  After we put out a statement that the picture was an old one, it was one old story after another. I know it’s playing on Matthew’s mind and his game. He got six penalties tonight and was benched the last three shifts of the game. It didn’t help that they are on a losing streak. Night after night, we would fall asleep in the same bed, him holding me, but I feel he is almost shutting down.

  By the time the plane touches down, it’s three a.m. I walk off the plane and head to the car waiting for us. Once we get inside and away from everyone’s eyes he finally grabs my hand, bringing it to his lips. “You okay?” I ask him softly.

  “Not even a bit, but I’m happy to be home. I don’t have to practice tomorrow, but I think I’ll go in and just skate with Phil,” he says while he looks out the window. “I fucking hate this shit.”

  “It’ll blow over,” I tell him, hoping to fuck it’s the truth. I don’t know if I can put up with much more. The pictures of him half naked, with girls all over him, make my stomach hurt. The only thing I think makes it better is that it’s never the same girl. Puck bunnies at their finest.

  When we walk into the house we don’t even open the lights, going upstairs straight to my room that has slowly become our room. His suits now hang in my closet, his clothes are in my drawers, his shampoo in my shower. His razor on my sink. Our clothes in the laundry basket.

  I wake up the next day to an empty bed but a note rests on the bedside.

  At the rink. Text you later.

  I put my phone back down and get up, grabbing my robe while I walk to the bathroom. Matthew wasn’t joking when he said naked to bed. I learned this mistake when we were in the hotel room. I went to bed with a T-shirt. When he came in and saw, he walked right back out and came back in. I didn’t really pay much attention to him till he turned me on my back, straddled my thighs, and cut my T-shirt right down the middle. Cut. It. Right. Down. The. Middle.

  “Babe, naked.” Is all he said till he leaned down, taking a nipple in his mouth. After that, I went to bed naked each time for fear that my clothes would end up in shreds.

  I’m washing my face when I hear my phone ringing in the other room. I run back and grab the phone to see it’s Vivienne.

  “Bonjour.” Hello, I answer in French.

  “Salope.” Slut, she answers back, making me laugh. “Are you finally back in New York?” I hear beeping in the background, so I know she is walking down the street somewhere in the city.

  “Yes. Thank God.” I walk down to the kitchen, starting the coffee. “I’m home for a whole five days. I’m planning to watch television and make a permanent mark on the couch cushion.” I make a list in my head of all the shows I’m going to be watching for the next five days.

  “Good. I’m on my way to you. We need to catch up,” she tells me the minute I hear the bell buzz.

  “Are you here already?” I ask, walking to the door and seeing the UPS guy. “It’s UPS. Get your ass over here, or I’m starting Below Deck without you.” I hang up right when she starts cursing in French again. I open the door and smile at the UPS guy when he asks if I’m Karrie Cooney. When I tell him I am, he makes me sign for the huge box. He brings it in, placing it on the floor next to the table. Once I close the door behind him I walk to the box with an Red Apple logo on the corner. I pick it up, struggling with it while I leave it on the table in the living room. I go to the kitchen to make my coffee and grab a knife to open the box. My phone beeps with an incoming message. I grab it, seeing it’s from Matthew.

  On my way home! Don’t open the box till I get there.

  I squeeze my eyebrows together, thinking what the hell could be in that box. I don’t have time to think about it anymore because there’s a knock at the door. I smile to myself, knowing it’s Vivienne. She is the only one who refuses to ring. Walking to the door, I smile seeing her face plastered to the door.

  “Fofolle.” Crazy girl, I tell her, opening the door.

  “I come with presents.” She puts the bag up, showing me that she stopped to get croissants.

  “Then you can come in.” I walk away while she closes the door, shrugs off her coat, and throws her purse on the table.

  “Are we going to watch Below Deck naked?” she asks, making fun of me and my new rule.

  “Très drôle!” Very funny, I tell her. “Make yourself at home. I’m going to go get dressed. I wasn’t expecting company today,” I tell her, walking up the stairs, throwing on a pair of shorts and a team T-shirt with Matthew’s name on it.

  I walk downstairs right when Matthew walks in. He’s in his team tracksuit, scruff on his face, baseball cap backward. He takes off the jacket, leaving him in the same shirt I’m wearing just bigger and tighter on him. His muscles fill it out. My mouth waters watching him. He tosses the keys on the table, his smile lighting up.

  “There’s my girl,” he says softly, walking to me while I stand on the last step, “and she’s wearing my name.” His arms wrap around my waist, picking me up. My arms wrap around his neck, my face going into his neck. He smells of his soap, so I know he showered at the rink.

  “Excuse me, I hate to interrupt first base, but,” Vivienne says, leaning against the door to the living room. “Oh, presents,” she says, spotting the box, clapping her hands together once she puts her cup down.

  “Um,” Matthew says, putting me down. “I think.” He doesn’t say anything else since Vivienne picks up the knife and cuts open the top of the box.

  Once the box is open, she throws her hands up in the air, laughing. “Home run. It’s going to be a home run.” She laughs, picking up a box that’s inside the box. “Look at all this,” she continues while she takes box after box out of the box.

  I walk over to the table. Picking up the box, my eyes go wide. It’s a sex box. Not just a little sex box, it’s filled with everything I think this company sells.

  A vibrator, a rabbit vibrator, anal plugs, cuffs, a clit vibrator, bullets, cock rings, lubes, lotions, edible stuff, a cheerleading costume that’s so small it fits into the palm of my hand.

  “Oh. My. God. Are you insane? You just threw my vibrator out the window two weeks ago. Now you got me not one, but a million,” I say, trying to put everything back in the box, but I’m failing since Vivienne is still pulling things out. I look back at Matthew, who comes in and throws himself on the couch, picking up the box of nipple
clamps.

  “I ordered a treasure chest that only I will have the key for, so I'm locking it all up when I leave. Besides, that was yours, this is ours!” he says matter-of-factly.

  “Oh, this is my favorite toy,” Vivienne says while she holds up what is called Eve’s triple pleasure rabbit. “I could go all day with this one. I usually last maybe a minute it’s so powerful. Don’t go full power or you’ll be done in thirty seconds flat.” She hands me the box and I take it in my hand. There are three parts to this vibrator, one for my pussy, one for my ass, and another for my clit. “Don’t blush, chéri,” she says to me while I stand here blushing because I'm actually standing in my living room with my best friend and my, I don’t even know what he is, my naked sleeping partner while we take in the box of dicks.

  “I’m not blushing,” I tell her while I look at Matthew, who is now holding the anal plug trainer’s kit. “Is that for you?” I ask him while Vivienne snickers, pulling up the bondage kit.

  “Babe, this is all yours.” He throws down another box next to him, grabbing the cheerleading outfit. Opening it, I see it’s a tube top and the smallest plaid skirt ever. “I want you wearing this tonight.”

  “Naked, isn’t that what you said?” I put my hands on my hips while he leans in and grabs me to sit on his lap.

  He pulls my head to him, whispering in my ear, “I want you wearing this while you bend over in front of me and I eat your pussy while I slip a plug up your ass.” He nips my earlobe. “We are doing all the bases tonight.” He kisses my neck while I sit on his lap completely aroused now.

  Vivienne is pretending not to watch us but is smirking. She tosses me the lube. “For you right before you bend over.” She laughs, making Matthew throw his head back and laugh. It’s the first time he has laughed since that whole picture leaked.

  I get up, grabbing all the things that are on the table, throwing them in the box, smacking Vivienne’s hands while she tries to take them back out. “Enough of this. You”—I point to Matthew—“take this upstairs to the attic. I’m not using any of this.” And then I point to Vivienne. “And you, you are on my side!”