Sweetest Obsessions - Anthology

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Sweetest Obsessions - Anthology Page 68

by Anthony, Jane


  “You could say that. Find himself and all that jazz.” Derek’s eyes flit to a couple walking a Labrador. “Don’t be too rough on him. He’s going through some shit he won’t talk about.”

  I nod. That much was apparent.

  “What’s your story anyway?” he asks.

  “My story?” I raise my eyebrows at him and chuckle. “Just a small-town girl living in a lonely world.”

  Derek laughs. “Don’t quote Journey to me as an answer. A beautiful woman caught up with some douchebag in Nashville who finally breaks free is more of a Lifetime movie.”

  I grin back at him. “Fine. I really am from a smaller town. I was in med school, as per my father’s wishes. But it wasn’t my wish. I didn’t make it very far before I dropped out. When I told my dad about wanting to be a musician, he told me to pack my bags and have a good life. So far, the best thing I’ve done is pack my bags. Life, on the other hand, hasn’t been nearly as kind as good old dad was.”

  “Saying you have a rocky relationship with him—”

  “Would be an understatement.” I laugh sadly. We stop at an ice cream vendor, and Derek buys me a chocolate cone and some chocolate chip monstrosity for himself.

  “No Christmas dinners with the family then?” Derek presses as we continue to walk with our cones in hand.

  “Nope. My mom always begs me to come visit, but I can’t. My dad would lose his shit on me. He made it clear I wasn’t welcome back home unless I did something with my life.” I frown down at my cone. A pang sears my heart at missing my family.

  “That sucks.” Derek gives me a sad look.

  “It does, but this is what I wanted. I liked med school, but I didn’t love it. And why spend your life doing something you only like? Doesn’t make much sense to me.” I lick at the chocolate that’s quickly melting before continuing, “I miss my family, but I can’t go home until I succeed.”

  “Then I think you got in the right RV,” Derek proclaims, bumping shoulders with me.

  I grin back at him, my heart swelling in my chest at the thought of Carter.

  “I think I did too.”

  Day 16

  I feel like shit. I spent all of yesterday in bed, moping about my shitty remaining existence. What made it worse was laying in the dark listening as Teddy’s soft laughter wafted down the hall to me as she and Derek talked. I couldn’t hear what they said, but my heart jumped in my chest every time I heard her laugh and him murmur again.

  OK. So, I’m a moping, dying, jealous asshole now.

  I’m a big enough man to admit that I’m feeling not only a little ashamed of my pouting, but also like I want to break my best friend’s face for talking to the girl I like. This isn’t high school, and I need to pull my head out of my ass.

  Do I really want to spend my remaining days in bed? Fuck no.

  But lying here, replaying the memory of Teddy over me makes my dick hard. All I had to do was take the moment. I’d probably be kissing on her right now if I wouldn’t have chickened out yesterday.

  Today is a new day. Even if I’ve convinced myself that I can’t be with her, there’s still this tiny part of me telling me one kiss won’t hurt. One touch. One...night.

  Every dying man has a wish. I thought mine was to live longer. Instead, I’m beginning to realize it might just be to have a moment with her wrapped in my arms.

  13

  Carter

  My dick is harder than a fucking lead pipe. It’s been that way for hours. I’ve resisted doing anything about it because, really, aside from jerking myself raw, the only other thing I want to do is bury myself so deeply inside Teddy that the rest of the world could go fuck itself.

  The sun is just starting to rise. I’ve missed too much time because I’ve been moping around. Derek’s snoring is coming at me in waves. I need to get up, medicate, and maybe go for a run. Deciding that’s the best course of action, I go to the bathroom and start a shower.

  It should be a cold shower because my dick is still hard. I close my eyes, breathing out as I rest my forearms against the wall of the shower.

  Fuck. I need her.

  No woman has ever had this effect on me. If I don’t do something about it, my dick will be hard the rest of the day. I can’t fight it any longer. Taking my cock in hand, I begin stroking it, all my thoughts on Teddy. Her long, dark hair. The way her lips part when she looks at me. How her green eyes sparkle.

  I imagine the way she’d taste as I kiss her lips before proceeding south to dip my tongue in the promised land. I imagine how my name would slip from her mouth as I bury myself deep inside of her, lost in everything that is her.

  I pump my dick harder, my eyes squeeze shut, as my breathing comes in sharp gasps.

  “Teddy,” I moan softly, breathlessly. Her name is a fucking prayer to me. The only one that can release me from the torture.

  I let out a groan as my orgasm spills hot and heavy over my hand, my body quivering in the aftermath. I have to lean against the wall to steady myself, my vision dotted with sparkles at what has to have been one of the best orgasms I’ve ever had in my life.

  After my moment of recovery, I wash and dry myself, feeling somewhat relieved. I forgot to bring clothes in with me, so I wrap a towel around my midsection and slide the door open to find Teddy standing there, her green eyes wide.

  “I-I’m so sorry. I thought I heard my name—” her eyes sweep over me in my towel, pink staining her cheeks as her eyes linger on the area the towel covers. She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth as her breathing changes.

  My dick is getting hard again.

  “You did.” I smirk down at her as her eyes take in the hard planes of my chest, before trailing over the muscles I’ve spent years defining.

  Down, boy. I silently plead with the gods of chaos for my dick to behave.

  “I-I did?” Confusion covers her face before comprehension replaces it. “Oh! Oh, wow.”

  I expect her to back away from me. In fact, she does for a moment, but then she draws in a deep breath and leans into me, that sweet summery scent of hers that’s been lingering on my pillow since she lay beside me yesterday envelopes my senses.

  “If you need me, ask for me,” her soft voice shakes a bit in my ear, sending a thrill of goosebumps through me. I close my eyes, the heat from her body blanketing me. Her t-shirt clad breasts press against my bare chest. “I’ll help you next time.”

  Jesus fucking Christ.

  Her fingers gently brush against the top of my towel before she moves away from me, those luscious hips swaying in her tiny, pink shorts. She doesn’t look back.

  She knows what she’s doing. I grin at the game she wants to play, shaking away all my prior thoughts.

  Fuck cancer. This woman is going to be the death of me.

  After taking a few moments to calm myself, I come out of my bedroom fully medicated and dressed, my dick on his best behavior in my khakis.

  Derek is awake and sitting at the table with his back to me. Teddy is across from him, a cup of coffee in hand. Her eyes land on me the moment I come into the room, a tiny smirk on those lips. If she’s ashamed of her actions from earlier, she certainly doesn’t act like it. And it only makes me want her more. I love a woman who wants to play dirty. I’ve already had “the talk” with myself, promising that I won’t act on anything. We can be flirtatious friends. Hell, it’ll be more of a steady relationship than I’ve ever had in my life. Nothing can happen past that.

  I move to go to the coffee pot, but Teddy’s voice calls out to me.

  “I already made you a cup.”

  I glance at her as she nods to my cup on the table. She slides over, daring me to sit next to her. I do so without hesitation.

  “Good morning, Teddy. Again,” I say, casting a smile at her. Her lips quirk up higher, her green eyes sparkling.

  “Morning, Carter.”

  Derek lifts a brow and looks between us. “Did I miss something?”

  “Nothing you’d want to see,” I retor
t, remembering how I’d heard him making her laugh the previous night.

  Calm down, you jealous bastard.

  Derek shrugs before going back to his bagel.

  “What did you guys do yesterday?” I grunt, taking the bagel Teddy hands me. Her fingers brush against mine, causing me to pause so I can relish in her warmth. She wiggles in her seat beneath my stare, a playful smile still on her lips.

  “We walked through City Park, ate some ice cream, and Derek told me all about your trip.”

  My hands twitch, my gaze landing on Derek whose eyes widen.

  “Relax.” Teddy chuckles, releasing my bagel. “He didn’t tell me your deep, dark secret. He said you needed to de-stress, and this is how you’re doing it.”

  The tension rolls out of me, and I relax in my seat.

  “Yeah, work can be a bitch,” I say, taking a bite of my bagel.

  “Sure can,” Derek mumbles, breathing out a whoosh of air and sinking back into his chair.

  For a moment, I feel awful about my jealousy, then I realize it’s Teddy. The woman of my dreams. And I’m dying. I can be a jealous prick here and there if I want to.

  “Anything you want to do today?” I ask Teddy.

  She cocks her head at me and smirks. “You’re the one who needs to de-stress. Is there anything you’d like to do today?”

  “I’d like to eat some gumbo,” I say thoughtfully. “Never had it before. Maybe hit up Bourbon Street after. Have some drinks. Look at everyone living their best life.”

  “Let’s do it.” Derek grins. “I could use some good food and drink.”

  “I’m game,” Teddy agrees, wiggling in her seat again. Her fingers brush against my leg as she brings her hand off the table to rest on her lap.

  “Sorry,” she says immediately.

  But everything in those green orbs suggests she’s anything but sorry.

  14

  Teddy

  I order us a Lyft and off we go to Marie Laveau’s House of Voodoo. Not that I’m into that particular sort of thing, but being in the medical field has made me acknowledge that this world contains all kinds of weird shit. So, yes, I believe ghosts roam the world, looking to match their bodies back to their souls, and I believe in miracle cures. I also believe in higher powers at play in this world which is why I want to see the Voodoo Museum and get my palm read.

  “Tell me again why we are going to the House of Voodoo?” Derek says nervously as we exit our ride. He takes a picture of the sign hanging over the front entrance. When he peeks inside, he says, “There are skeletons handing from the ceiling…umm, I think I’ll wait out here.”

  “Oh, c’mon Derek. She just wants to get a voodoo doll of Richie and curse him to the seven circles of hell but while he’s here on Earth. Right?” Carter says, elbowing him as we all laugh.

  Little does he know, that’s not a bad idea.

  “I actually want to get my palm read or future told, whatever they may do here. This seems like the perfect place to see what lies ahead for me. Hopefully it’s not too expensive. I’m on a budget.”

  “I’m sure I can wheel and deal them into a two for one deal. Then I’ll get mine done too and pay,” Carter says matter-of-factly, placing his hand on the small of my back to escort me inside. Derek follows closely behind.

  “Hey, check this out. A shrunken head on a string,” Carter exclaims, picking it up and moving its jaw while he laughs eerily.

  Derek takes it from him and hangs it back up.

  “No.” Carter smacks at his arm and takes the skull off the post it was hanging on again. “I want that. We need an RV mascot. It’ll look great hanging from the rearview mirror.”

  “I’m not driving with that thing swaying back and forth hexing me. If you want it, then you can drive.”

  Carter places his mascot into our basket and moves along, picking up different items and commenting while Derek ignores him. We enter another room toward the back, and I see the sign for readings. Ten dollars.

  “Yay! I can afford this. Not sure how much of my future is worth that price, but maybe she can get me through the month. Be right back,” I say. I hear Carter grumble about wanting to pay for me, but I ignore him.

  I approach the half-open curtain. A young woman with bright red, curly hair sits inside, shuffling cards at a small table, and blowing bubbles with her chewing gum.

  She looks up and pops a bubble to speak, “You want a reading?” Her southern drawl is cheery and welcoming.

  I nod and take a seat, laying my ten-dollar bill on the table.

  “Don’t be nervous. Relax. This’ll be fun. I’m Roya, by the way.” She swipes her deep purple fingernails in the air at me as she closes the curtain behind me.

  “I’m Teddy,” I say, my voice quivers as the little curtained room we’re in grows darker and smaller.

  “For ten dollars you get a tarot card reading, for fifteen dollars a palm reading, and for twenty dollars an aura evaluation. So which one are we going with?”

  I slide the ten closer to her. “Tarot,” I confirm.

  “And which aspect of your life are we reading today?”

  I look at her wildly. Shit. What do I want to know? “My love life.”

  Amusement glints in her eyes. “Very well.”

  She sets the cards down in front of me. “Touch them please.”

  I do as she asks.

  She shuffles the cards again and aligns them neatly before setting them in front of me again.

  “Please touch them again.” she requests, and I do.

  She shuffles them a third time and fans them out in a large display across the table. “Please run your fingertip from one end of the cards to the other, touching each one.” As I touch the cards, she whispers something I can’t understand and stops when I lift my hand from the table.

  She picks the cards back up, shuffling them one last time and spreads them across the table again. “Pick three cards and hand them to me.”

  Without hesitation, I pick the three cards in the center of the pile. No sense in ruminating over it too long. If it’s truly my future, taking different cards from the spread isn’t going to change it any.

  She picks up the rest of the cards with ease, like a dealer playing blackjack at the casino. “Hmmm, these are interesting.” She shakes her head, her curls bouncing.

  She turns the first card over and pushes it toward me with her fingertips. “This is the Reversed Emperor card. It signifies dominance and rigidity in thinking, suggesting an abuse of authoritative power. It could be from a lover, a boss, or even a father or father-like figure in your life. Does someone hold power over you? Or maybe you hold their thoughts or opinions in such high regard that it’s invisible power over you.”

  “So this card means I have daddy issues?” A mocking laugh escapes my lips. My dad would show up in my tarot reading. He’s smothering my life like a giant squid.

  “Possibly.” She pops a small bubble in her chewing gum before continuing, “You need to consider how much power you give others over your life. Are you trying to please them too much? There are many ways to make others happy without giving up control or taking their power from them. Lead from a place where your personal power is the strongest.”

  “I have no idea what that means.” I sigh heavily. I’m convinced I just wasted ten precious dollars.

  “Find what you’re good at…what you excel at, what makes you happy, and work to live your best life using that power.”

  She flips over the second card and pushes it toward me. It’s an angel. “This is the Upright Temperance card. It’s the card of balance. See where one foot is in the water and the other is on dry land?”

  I nod.

  “The foot in the water represents the subconscious mind. The foot on land represents the material world.” She clicks her long amethyst painted nail on the symbol of the sun on the angel’s forehead. “This means illumination. This card suggests compromise between extremes to maintain a balance, to take the middle road. It shows
that we need to balance the ups and down in life with inner and outer awareness.”

  That’s what Carter says I do. I take the middle road. Maybe Roya knows what she’s talking about. A line of worry forms between her eyebrows as she studies the next card. She flips it over to face me and sets it on the table.

  “This is the Upright Fool card.” She slides it forward on the table.

  “Oh, shit. I chose the joker. That’s just perfect,” I say, shaking my head in annoyance.

  “The Fool card is numbered zero in the tarot stack, meaning it has infinite potential. It’s the beginning, if you want to think of it that way. It’s like a blank slate or a new start. He’s an optimist and views each day as a new adventure. He believes anything can happen in life and opportunities are around every corner.”

  I sit forward in my seat, studying the card. “But he’s getting ready to walk off a cliff. See?” I point to the little white dog on the card. “The dog here is barking, trying to warn him.”

  “Teddy, you’re a pessimist. You see the negative in this picture, but this isn’t the Reverse Fool card. This card is trying to tell you not to worry about what is or isn’t coming in the future. It suggests that you take one day at a time and enjoy the journey.”

  “That’s easier said than done.” I blow out a long breath thinking. “So the overall picture here is that I need to stop pleasing everyone else. Work on my happiness and enjoy the journey while balancing it with smart decisions.”

  “You’re quick. Believe, Teddy. Have a little faith in the higher powers that place opportunities in front of you.” She pops one final large bubble with her gum before making it snap and pop sharply against her smiling lips.

  “So, the moral of the reading is that things happen for a reason, and I have no control over it. And most of my frustration is because I’m trying to control it. Good to know.” I stand and step toward the curtain.

 

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