Sunshine & Whiskey

by R. L. Griffin

  I take a step back. “From San Francisco?” That bitch liar told me she was on a date with Max.

  He nods and takes another step. I will kill her. She went to get him today. Bitch.

  “Who’s this?” Peter asks as he nods at Magic.

  “Walker,” he says, sticking out his hand. Peter takes it, and they give each other a sizing up handshake.

  “He know you have my heart?” His question is so simple and not filled with any malice.

  Okay, now this is too much. Why is he here, doing this? My resolve begins to crumble.

  Walker grazes my ass again with his hand, and I’m grateful because it reminds me to nip this shit in the bud. “Um, Peter. He doesn’t care about my heart, let alone yours. I’m pretty sure what we’re about to do has nothing to do with hearts. Just tongues, lips, and hopefully a nice sized dick.” I look at Magic’s face and it registers amusement.

  “He know you’ll never love him?” Peter asks, again his eyes boring into Walker.

  “Are you fucking kidding me right now?” I explode. “Get the fuck out of here. You left me.” I shake my head. “You left me,” I repeat slower and softer.

  “I’m trying to make it right,” Peter rebuts and his arm floats toward my face.

  I slap it away. “You’re embarrassing me. I told you there’s no way for you to make it right. There’s no way for us to go back.” I walk toward my house away from where both Magic and Peter are now standing. “There’s no going back,” I say to confirm it with myself.

  “Red, please,” Peter pleads.

  “Walker, you coming?” I call from my door. Opening the door, I stand there waiting, without looking back at Peter. I cannot look back at Peter.

  “Don’t do this man, I love her.” Peter turns to Walker and argues his case. “She’s it for me. Her happiness is all I care about. I need her. I want to take her with me everywhere I go. I fucked up, but I’m trying to make it up to her.”

  I’m trying to block this out because this should’ve been a conversation we had years ago.

  “Sounds to me like she’s not interested,” Magic says unmoved.

  As Magic walks past Peter, Peter grabs his arm. “Don’t. Really.”

  “Man, I understand. I think if I would have left her I’d regret it for the rest of my life too.”

  I leave the love of my life outside, refusing to acknowledge him or the fact he came all the way here to see me. I’m pissed at Laura and that she helped all this happen. Once Magic closes the door behind him, we sort of just stare at each other, trying to get back what was happening at the Tasting Room before we left.

  “So my performance may be hindered by what just happened, I need to reschedule.” Magic grins and gives me an out.

  “What? Why?” Peter deserves to know that I’m fucking this hot guy in here and not him. He deserves that.

  “Don’t think I can’t hear the heartbreaks all around here Megan. I’m not interested in being that guy. The one you fuck while thinking about another guy.”

  My eyes shoot up at the truth of his statement, but it surprises me all the same because why would he care who I thought about during sex. He is right though. I’ve been closing my eyes and thinking of Peter since he left me.

  “Oh, I strike a chord, huh,” he smirks at me.

  “No,” I lie. “I’m just surprised you don’t want this while I’m offering.” I unzip my dress and let it fall around my heels.

  “Well, Megan. I’m pretty sure you know that I want you and after this,” he waves his hand in the air motioning at me, “I want you even more, but I’m not a distraction. Chad, Peter, the guy who calls you Sunshine…I need all of your attention.” While I can see the desire in his eyes, I see something else I can’t place. “We’ll hook up later,” he says abruptly, and with that he turns around and leaves me standing there in my underwear and heels, really cute matching underwear, by the way, which hardly ever happens.

  “I can’t believe this.” The one night stand of Napa just walked out because he didn’t want me “distracted.” What in the actual fuck?

  I stalk to the door and rip it open staring into the headlights of the truck that is reversing down the driveway. My gaze doesn’t falter from his truck as I watch it turn left and disappear. I spin on my heel and march up the driveway to Laura’s house, which is sort of difficult because I’m in heels and its freezing. I’m beyond pissed, I can’t believe she did this. I beat on her door with the palm of my hand. I know, not very lady like to walk around in underwear, but I’m about to kill my best friend.

  She opens it laughing and her laughter dies on her lips. “Mad?”

  “Livid.” I push past her and my rant dies on my tongue. There is Peter, standing in Laura’s den with a beer. His eyes burn with lust when he sees me. There is a power from the knowledge that I can still do that to him. He rushes me, putting his beer on the table and pushes himself against my skin and it’s not fair. It’s not fair how I feel when he touches me. I was so strong. I told him no. I haven’t spoken to him since Denver because I wasn’t strong enough to hear his voice. Now he’s actually touching me. I’m weak and it pains me to admit that to myself.

  My eyes snap to Laura’s and they narrow at her. This is her fault. “FUCK YOU,” I mouth slowly at her. I know she sees and knows what I say because she blows me a kiss.

  Suddenly, I’m lifted off my feet and thrown over Peter’s shoulder. As he stalks out of Laura’s house I flip her the bird.

  “Your friend leave?”

  I’m silent because I’m pissed, but sort of turned on too. Don’t judge.

  “Well, you made sure of that. No one wants to fuck someone when they have stalkers at their house.”

  “You were going to fuck him?”

  “Yes,” I answer honestly.

  “Really.” He palms my ass.

  “Really,” I confirm.

  “Well, I’m glad I stalked you then. Was that going to be the first time?” Peter pushes open the door and puts me back on my feet.

  I cross my arms over my chest. “You don’t get to know shit like that. I will fuck him, it’ll just be later now.”

  “Damn,” he says and he looks away.

  “What?”

  “I just…”

  “You just don’t know me,” I smile and wink. Then I go into the kitchen and pull out a bottle of water from the fridge and drink from it. On second thought, I pull out a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet and take a sip from the bottle.

  “Megan, I want to be with you.” Peter’s still standing in the den, looking around at the house. “Whatever that means.”

  “Well, it’s a little too late for that. We don’t live in the same area, and I don’t love you anymore.” I slam the bottle of whiskey on the counter. That last part might not be entirely true, but what I feel for him isn’t enough for us to work. When I sneak a glance at Peter, he looks like the wind has been knocked out of him.

  “I can see you.”

  “I can see you too,” I snap back.

  “I mean, you know I can tell you still love me. You have this crinkle at the corner of your left eye when you lie. You felt it too in Denver, we’re still connected. The love is still there.”

  “There’s no love. There’s lingering lust, pain and regret, but I’m pretty sure the love left when you did.”

  Instead of being hurt by my words, he smirks. “Lust works too.” He saunters over to where I’m standing in the furthest corner of the kitchen. His finger finds the edge of my thong and he rubs it from the front to the back of the small fabric. I gasp. I’m glaring at him now, but I’m not sure why.

  “See.” Now he’s dragging his finger in the same motion, but inside of me this time.

  “I…” All thoughts leave my brain. My disappointment over Magic leaving me in my underwear disappears and is replaced with raw desire, hard and fast.

  “Cat got your tongue.” Peter laughs. He pulls his finger out of me and then runs the tip lightly up my abdomen to plu
ck my left breast out of my bra.

  “Oh for fuck’s sake, I can’t believe I’m…”

  Peter sucks my nipple so hard in his mouth pain bursts through it. Then he uses the pad of his tongue to soothe it. That does it. I begin stripping his shirt off and latch my lips onto his.

  “Red,” he murmurs as he moves his lips to my neck.

  We are a tangle of limbs and tongues while stripping him out of all his clothes and shoes. We are frantic or manic or grasping onto something we know isn’t really there. I don’t want it to be there and Peter knows it isn’t. Questions start peppering my brain. Can this work? Can I trust him with my heart? Will he be gentle with it this time? The problem with that last one is he was always perfect except when he left…everything was amazing, until he left me.

  I break the frenzy and stare at him. “I don’t trust you.”

  The desire in his eyes shatters before me, clatters all around us and hides amongst his clothes and shoes. “I know,” he says softly. Then he slows our pace and kisses me with longing and emotion I can feel in his lips and in his fingertips. His hands are gentle and probing. This is how hope creeps into my belly, which mixes with anticipation of where he’s heading down my body. “I will work very hard to rebuild what I destroyed.”

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Epic Love Story

  I open my eyes and I hear the shower running. I look over at the side of the bed where Peter slept last night. It didn’t work, whatever Peter was trying to do. It’d been over three months since I’d seen him and even though I’d second guessed myself for it, I realize I did make the right decision to walk away.

  Last night should’ve been this epic love story. Shit, Denver should’ve been a love story, but it wasn’t. Somewhere deep down I knew I was just hurting us both last night. That’s why I didn’t come, my mind wasn’t in it. My mind knew I made a horrible mistake.

  Chapter Sixty

  Well, Ain’t That Some Shit

  I stretch my limbs, close my eyes, and let last night sink in for a few minutes. Magic and I were at long last going to get down to things. I was looking forward to having his steely gaze look at my body just before we had sex. Instead, he looked at me with something that seemed like pity. It seems every time we are together I end up mortified in some way. Maybe that’s the universe telling me we shouldn’t fuck around with each other. I ease out of the bed. I know I haven’t mentioned it yet, but I got even better sheets and a duvet than I had in Atlanta. It is a gray chevron California King duvet with yellow and teal sheets. The sheets feel like satin, but they aren’t. They caress my body while I sleep. Lord knows I need that.

  I’m staring out the window while I’m mindlessly making coffee and I hear Peter call me from the bedroom. I actively ignore him by grinding coffee beans. Mistakes usually don’t bother me. I don’t deal in regrets, I move forward with what I have to work with...Chad is a perfect example. I will never settle for someone again. I feel Peter’s arms snake around my waist and I cringe inwardly, which is unsettling because I loved Peter. He was the first man I actually loved and could see myself with for the long term. I exhale and smile.

  “Morning.”

  “Good morning,” he whispers in my ear and kisses my neck.

  Nope. It’s not there. It’s like my body has finally caught up with my mind. My body, which betrayed my conscious while in Denver, now realizes that Peter is my past and I can’t go back. All of my unspoken anxiety is lost on Peter, and he drops kisses on my right shoulder.

  “When is your flight?”

  “Two,” he answers.

  I step out of his grasp and grab the skim milk from the fridge for my coffee.

  “I hate that I can’t stay longer.”

  My phone rings, and I walk over to see who is calling. It’s Justin. I can’t deal with him right now.

  “Who’s that?”

  I’m instantly annoyed. He doesn’t get to waltz back into my life and start asking questions.

  I smile weakly at Peter as we sit across the table from each other at brunch in Sausalito. I’m driving him to the airport, his “win me back” tour was just a one night stop then he had to get back to work. Yeah, there’s that.

  The finality of last night settles over me as he chatters on about some legal case he’s working on. It’s interesting because all this time I missed practicing law, the competitive nature of it, the academic gymnastics, but I’m now realizing I don’t care about the case he’s talking about either. I don’t want to talk strategy. I don’t want to help with arguments. Who am I? If I’m not the girl who loves Peter, who am I? If I’m not the woman striving to make partner and prove herself, who the fuck am I? If I’m not trying to figure out a winning angle on a lawsuit, I have no idea who I am. The questions are on repeat in my brain. It doesn’t seem like Peter cares to get to know me, but is basing his decisions on the girl he was with in law school. That girl is long gone.

  Chapter Sixty-One

  Game On

  On the drive back to Calistoga, I call Meat. I want to talk to someone who doesn’t know me as Megan Walker the lawyer.

  “Hey Sunshine,” he answers, sounding winded.

  “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

  “No time is a bad time for you.”

  I smile like he can see me.

  “What’s up, you never call?”

  “I’m just sort of lost here.”

  “Sunshine, you’re not lost. You’re wandering, feeling yourself out. What you want to do…”

  “But I thought I knew what I wanted to do.”

  “Then do that.”

  If only it were that easy. “Do you think it’s okay to wander?”

  “I wish you’d wander down here. I miss your ass.”

  “You know, I actually miss you too. It’s weird.”

  “Aw, you say the nicest things. Now let me go, I’m training someone who needs my attention. You have everything you need Megan. You are you.”

  “I may come see you, would that be okay?”

  “That’s the dumbest question I’ve ever heard, let’s talk later.”

  While it’s true, I’m still me, I don’t know what that means anymore, but I can always find myself again. Maybe I’ll find it in Texas somewhere with ice cream...

  After I hang up with Meat, I punch Justin’s number on my phone and listen as the Bluetooth connects.

  “Oh my fucking…when your attorney calls you, you be available or fucking call him back within minutes, not days.”

  “Well, good afternoon to you too,” I answer Justin’s tirade.

  “So are you sitting down?”

  “Yes,” I answer hesitantly.

  “Well, what are you doing because I don’t want to cause you to poke your eye out or anything as unseemly.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “Chad’s filed suit.”

  “Chad’s filed suit?” I repeat the words, but they don’t make sense at all.

  “He’s alleging defamation and intentional infliction of emotional distress.”

  A haze of red fills my vision. “Excuse me, what?”

  “He’s…oh, and he wants his balls back.” Justin breaks up in laughter.

  “He wants his balls back?” My voice is eerily calm. I want to laugh, cry, and punch a fucking wall, all at the same time.

  His laughter fills the phone.

  “Is this a joke? Because if not, I’m about to fly to Atlanta and fulfill my fantasy of cutting his ball sack off, bronzing it and hanging it on my fucking wall or I’ll use it as a bookend.” I’m no longer calm. I’m actually yelling in my car.

  “No, I’m not joking and when I told Richard…”

  “Book me a fucking flight,” I demand, interrupting him.

  “Megan,” his voice is higher than usual.

  “I mean it. Now.”

  I hang up. I cannot actually believe that guy used to put his dick inside of me. I used to let him fuck me. I can’t let my brain work righ
t now. I need to stop thinking about how wrong I was, what a bad judge of character I was when I moved to Atlanta. I blink. I blink again and I feel like my brain is betraying me as feelings roll down my cheeks. Fucking feelings.

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  Fucking FEELINGS!!!

  When I pull up to my house, I notice Max’s car is in Laura’s driveway. I walk slowly to her house knowing this conversation shouldn’t take place in front of Max, but I need to control something right now. I know I should go to my house until he leaves and then confront her. I should call Justin back and get all the details of the lawsuit and determine a strategy to beat Chad. All of these things would be a better plan than what I’m actually doing, but I’m so mad at her. Add that to the news I just got and I cannot contain my rage. She saw what it took me to get over Peter the first and second time and she helped him get here. There’s no good reason why she’d do that. I can’t control the fact that my douche of an ex-boyfriend is suing me, but I can tell her what a dick she is and how I feel betrayed by her.

  I burst into her cottage without knocking because I’m an asshole like that. Laura is sitting on Max’s lap outside on the porch and doesn’t notice I’m here, but Max does. I can’t hear what he says, but she lifts herself off him and walks through the open door.

  “Hey Megan,” Max calls and waves, but he doesn’t move.

  “Hey,” Laura says and leans into the doorframe.

  “So we need to talk,” I start.

  “Can we do this later?” she asks and looks at Max with a genuine smile. When I examine her closely I can tell they just fucked. She has the just fucked face. You don’t know what I’m talking about? Yes, you do. The flushed cheeks, swollen lips, no makeup face. That face. Our vagina breaks broken at the same time and I should be happy, but I just want to slap the happy off her face.

  “No, we can’t.” I sit on the couch. “Sorry Max!” I yell.

  He sighs and walks through the door. “I’m gonna to take a shower,” he answers my apology.

  Laura hasn’t moved from the door and watches Max walk through the small room into her bedroom.