by J B Heller
I scrub the back of my neck and stare into my coffee. “We might have hooked up over the weekend, and now I just need a bit of space. It’s not a big deal, Piper. Let it go.”
Piper’s jaw drops. “Since when do you actively avoid hook-ups? You’ve never had a problem telling women it was a one-time deal. What’s different about this one?” she asks, dragging the chair opposite me out from under the table and taking a seat.
“She’s different. It didn’t start as a hook-up. We hung out a few times, and it progressed.” I shrug. “Now I don’t know what to fucking do.”
My little sister blinks at me dumbly. “You go with it, you moron. I haven’t seen you interested in anyone since Meghan cheated on you in high school. That was ten years ago, Rhett. That’s a long time to let one person dictate your life.”
I know she’s right. What happened with Meghan really screwed me up. I thought I loved her. I saw it all in my head: we’d get married, I’d finish my apprenticeship and open my own garage, then we’d have a couple of kids.
Yeah, I was that guy. I was Simon. All full of hope and big dreams for the future. Then, I walked in on Meghan blowing my fellow teammate, and it all went up in flames. I haven’t pictured a future involving another woman since.
After that, I ploughed through women like I was born to do it, making up for the two years I had been faithful to Meghan. Well, I went through as many as would take me, that is. The amount who saw the size of my junk and offered me a handy or blowjob instead is ridiculous.
“Rhett.” Piper’s quiet voice pulls my attention back to her.
“What?”
“Meghan was a mole. End of story. But you’ve been letting her determine the outcome of your life for far too long. She’s in your past, but you’ve been carrying her around all this time. What’s this new girl like? Tell me about her.”
The shadow that creeps in when I think of what Meghan put me through is superseded by the light I feel whenever I’m around Reagan.
“She’s funny, even though she doesn’t always mean to be. She’s really accident-prone. In just a few days, she stepped on two shards of glass, tripped on her own feet, and fell off a bar stool.” I shake my head thinking of her. “She’s easy-going and super chill, has a vendetta against bras, and lacks a filter.”
Piper smiles. “She sounds pretty awesome to me. What’s her name?”
“Reagan.” Just saying her name out loud makes me miss her even more. It’s a foreign feeling for me. Actually, everything I feel about her is foreign to me. I really don’t like it.
After Meghan, I promised myself I would never allow my happiness to be reliant on another person. And look at me now; I’m miserable, and it’s only been twenty-four hours since I was with Reagan.
My head throbs. I don’t want to think about this anymore. I simply want to go back to the way things have always been. It’s safe, satisfying, and headache free.
Piper’s warm hand curls around my wrist. “Why are you fighting it? You obviously like her, and the look in your eyes when you talk about her tells me everything I need to know. I think you should see where this goes, Rhett. Give her a chance.”
I swallow past the lump in the base of my throat. “I’ll think about it.” Catching sight of the time on the wall clock, I push my chair back. “I gotta go, big day at the shop today.”
“Okay, I’ll call you later,” Piper says, going up on her tippy-toes to kiss my cheek before I leave.
When I walk into my garage, Jake and Taj stay out of my way. Jesus, I must look as bad as I feel if those two aren’t giving me shit for being late two days in a row. I make myself another coffee, then get to work. I’ve got a vintage Cadi waiting for me today, and I plan on losing myself in her all day long.
Another day of radio silence from Rhett, and I’m driving myself mad with worry. Is he okay? Did something happen to him? Is that why he hasn’t checked in the last two days?
Chewing on my bottom lip, I decide it’s time to call in Char. She will know what to do. Hitting her name on my phone screen, I wait for her to answer.
“S’up, sugar tits?” she greets in a super chipper tone.
My shoulders slump before I even start talking. “Char, he’s dropped off the face of the Earth. I haven’t seen or heard from him since Monday morning. Everything was fine—no, it was great. We went our separate ways when we left for work, and that was the last time I saw him. Is this him ghosting me, or was he murdered by psychotic dwarfs?”
“Whoa, slow down, babe,” she says, and I take a breath, trying to calm myself.
“Okay, so it’s Wednesday night, and you’re panicking because it’s been crickets since Monday. Correct?”
“Yeah,” I breathe. “I mean, he told me he didn’t do girlfriends or anything. Then the weekend happened, and I don’t know, I thought …” I can’t finish my sentence because I’m not sure what I thought.
“Oh, babe,” Char coos. “I’ll be over in half an hour with wine and chocolate.”
“Thank you,” I whisper and end the call.
My work clothes feel too tight, so I start tugging them off on my way to my room. I’m able to get around without my crutches now if I’m careful. I’m naked when I reach my closet, and I grab the first pair of jammies I see, yanking them on. Then, I flop back on my bed and wait for Char to arrive.
Almost exactly thirty minutes later, my apartment door bangs open, and Char’s voice sings out, “Honey, I’m home!”
I don’t bother getting up. “I’m in here,” I call out.
A couple of seconds later, she leans against the doorframe. She’s got two bottles of wine tucked under her arm and a bag that I’m sure is full of chocolate swinging from her wrist.
I smile at her. “Lifesaver.”
She throws the bag of chocolate to me, then drops her purse on the floor and kicks off her shoes. “I’ll get us some glasses. Be right back,” she says with a wink, then she disappears.
We’re sitting side by side in my bed, leaning against the headboard with a bottle of wine each. This is what best friends are for.
Char ended up going home and packing a bag so she could stay with my sorry arse for the rest of the week. It’s not like me to mope, but Rhett is worth moping over.
We’re in my bed, where we’ve spent every night after finishing work with wine, chocolate and pretzels. I’m staring at the ceiling, wishing my phone would ring. Hell, at this point I’d even be happy with a text. But nada. I haven’t so much as seen a glimpse of him since Monday morning.
Char smacks her forehead with her palm, and I give her the side eye. “I can’t believe I haven’t already asked this, but when did you first text him?”
I look at her, confused. “I haven’t.”
Her red lips pop open in a perfect O. “Not even just a ‘Hey, thanks for the great sex’ or a ‘You’re an arsehole with a tiny penis’ text?”
Shaking my head, I tell her, “Firstly, nothing on that man is tiny, especially his epic penis. And secondly, I didn’t know I was supposed to.”
She scoffs. “Give me your phone. We’re fixing this right now.”
Before I can stop her, she snatches my phone off the quilt, and she’s tapping away on my screen.
“Hey! What are you going to say?” I screech, my arms helicoptering, trying to reclaim my phone.
Char rolls her eyes and stands up on the bed, then holds it above her head. She’s almost a foot taller than me, the cow.
“I can’t find his name in your contacts,” she complains.
I grin, victorious. “And you won’t. It’s not in there under his real name.”
A minute later, she busts out laughing. She buckles in half, then drops to her knees as tears stream down her cheeks. Yep, she found his contact info. My lips quirk. It really is a good name—and very accurate.
“Prince Everhard of the Netherlands … Oh God, Reagan, why didn’t you warn me?” Char pants.
I shrug. “It would’ve ruined the effect.”
/> “It’s fitting that a queen would end up with a prince.” She giggles.
Taking several deep breaths, she shuffles back to sitting against the headboard. “Babe, you need to text him. Doesn’t matter what you say; just keep it light and easy. You can do that. Give him a chance to explain himself before you start having nightmares about midgets again.”
“Okay, I can do that.”
Char hands my phone back, and I stare at it, praying for inspiration. Then it hits me like a freight train, and my fingers fly over the screen.
ME ~More than ten people a year are killed by vending machines.~
I sit back, satisfied I’ve done a good thing. Until Char grabs my phone to read it and starts staring at me funnily. “What?”
Her brows pinch together. “This is what you sent to the man you want to be having sex with? Babe, I’m going to be honest. I’m not sure how he’s going to respond to this, if at all.”
Oh. My chest deflates. “He likes it when I tell him random facts.”
Char chews her lip for a moment, then her eyes widen. “Look, he’s typing!” she squeals and hands me back the phone.
His response takes forever, but my eyes never leave the screen.
RHETT ~Are you planning on dropping a vending machine on me in the near future?~
ME ~I wasn’t. Should I be?~
RHETT ~Maybe.~
I frown. I don’t like that response. My chest squeezes, then my heart takes off at a gallop.
ME ~Why?~
RHETT ~Because I’ve been avoiding you.~
ME ~Oh. You don’t have to. I understand. You don’t do girlfriends.~
RHETT ~No, you don’t understand.~
My head whips up at the banging coming from the front of my apartment. I look at Char, who seems to be just as startled by it as me. Crawling off my bed, I go to the front door and open it cautiously.
I jump back when Rhett pushes the door open. Stalking towards me, he forces me backwards until I’m pressed against the wall. His fingers glide over my cheeks, then up into my messy hair. He tips my head back, and then he’s kissing me like a man starved.
Sighing, I relax into his hold, returning his kiss with as much passion as he gives me. My arms curl around his shoulders, and he moves his hands to my butt, hoisting me up to his hips. I lock my ankles behind his back.
“I’m sorry, honey. I got buried in my past, but I’m here now,” he breathes against my kiss-swollen lips.
If I wasn’t tethered to him, I swear I would soar into the sky with happiness.
He’s actually here. I blink back tears as my emotions rage for control. Problem is, I’m not sure which I’m feeling more: relieved that he’s here, or pissed that he could have been a body in the morgue and I wouldn’t even have known.
I push my hands against his solid chest. He takes the hint and lowers me to the floor, keeping his hands on my hips.
“Where have you been?” I ask, then change my mind. “No. Scratch that. What the hell took you so long?”
His answering grin is everything.
Lightly gliding his rough fingertips over my cheek, he looks deep into my eyes and says, “I had to get my head straight. I’m sorry, honey. It won’t happen again; I swear. This has been the worst week of my life. I’m miserable without you.”
Swallowing becomes really freaking hard, and my unshed tears spill over. It takes me a minute to gain control of my vocal cords. “Well good, because I reverted to an overly angsty teenager who eats her feelings this week, so at least we were both suffering.”
“It’s true. She’s been moody as hell. She bit me last night when I tried to take her fifth chocolate bar off her.”
Rhett’s head swivels to Char, who’s leaning against my bedroom doorframe, her arms crossed under her boobs and a smug expression on her face.
“Uh, hi there. Sorry, I didn’t realise there was anyone else here.”
Char snorts. “That’s because you were too busy sucking face with my girl. But I’ll forgive you this time. That’s the first smile I’ve seen out of her all week.”
Rhett grins back at me, then kisses my nose and presses his forehead to mine. “You bit her?”
I shrug. “She knows better than to touch my chocolate. Especially when I’m in the throes of an emotional breakdown.”
His expression sobers with my last statement. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. My head was so far up my own arse I didn’t stop to think how my silence would affect you.”
“I should have called or messaged you sooner. At first, I thought you might just need some space, but then after a few days, I knew it was more than that. I thought my crazy was too much for you to handle for more than a weekend,” I admit.
Running the pads of his thumbs under my eyes, he wipes away my tears. “Reagan,” he says, then stops until I meet his intense gaze. “I fucking love your brand of crazy. I had more fun with you in one weekend than I’ve had in years. You are so much more than you give yourself credit for.
“You’re crazy smart.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “Crazy beautiful.” A kiss to my left cheek. “Crazy clumsy.” A kiss to my right. “Crazy fun.” A kiss to my nose. “And I’m fucking crazy about you.” His soft lips meet mine, and I wrap my arms around his neck, never wanting this to end.
“Ahem.” Char interrupts us before we can get carried away.
“Shit, sorry,” I mumble. It takes me a moment to catch my breath.
Char rolls her eyes. “Well, it looks like my work here is done. I’ll get my stuff and leave you two horndogs to it.” She turns back to my room and gathers her things quickly.
She strides down the hall and pauses when she reaches us. Holding her hand out to Rhett, she says, “By the way, I’m Charlotte. Otherwise known as the best bitch or friend, depending what day it is. I’d say it was nice to meet you, but we haven’t really had a chance to do that yet, so we’ll put a pin in it and take care of the formalities some other time.”
Rhett takes Char’s outstretched hand. “I’m good with that.”
Char’s eyes roam over his body with obvious approval, then her gaze stops at his crotch. On his boner, to be precise. She swallows and blinks slowly. Finally looking back to me, she smirks. “You weren’t kidding about the goods. Have fun with that.” She blows me a kiss then leaves, the apartment door slamming shut behind her.
SIMON’S WEDDING
Weddings make me nervous. They are the perfect place for embarrassing things to happen. And if it’s going to happen, it’s going to happen to me.
At least I don’t really know anyone here. I met Simon and Jessie last weekend. But other than them, I only know Rhett, and he’s on best man duty most of the day.
Jessie was super-lovely, though, and said I could tag along to the photo shoot and even sit with Rhett at the reception. She’d been terrified Rhett was going to bring some whore he’d picked up the night before to the wedding, and since he brought me instead, I get special privileges.
Rhett and I have been a couple for two weeks, and I’ve never been happier. I can’t stop staring at him. He’s so damn sexy, and he knows it. His tux is fitted to perfection. The way it moulds around his biceps is giving me all kinds of spank-bank material. Not that I need it; Rhett is just as ravenous in bed as I am.
And oh my God, those pants. I’ve been resisting the urge to sink my teeth into his arse since he put them on. Watching him walk away wasn’t the hardship I was expecting it to be when he left me at my seat ten minutes ago to join the other groomsmen.
He catches my eye from his place beside Simon on the podium, while everyone waits for Jessie to arrive, and blows me a kiss. I pretend to catch it, glance around to make sure nobody is looking, then tug up the hem of my dress and release it up my skirt.
He chokes on a laugh, and Simon elbows him. I smirk, then wink. He just shakes his head and smiles wider.
I’m sitting in the fourth row, all by myself. I don’t know if it’s because I’m the only visibly
tattooed person at this wedding or just because nobody knows me. I don’t really mind, though. Saves me making a fool of myself trying to make small talk. I keep my eyes on Rhett when the music starts, signalling Jessie’s arrival.
I only look away when she strides down the aisle, and I see her stunning dress. It’s beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like it. When I met Jessie, I thought for sure she would be the kind of woman to wear a super-traditional, white dress. But she looks like Cinder-freaking-ella in a light blue gown that puffs out at her small hips in layer upon layer of tulle encrusted with sparkly gems.
When Rhett finally looks at her, his eyes widen, and he shoves Simon’s shoulder. Simon glares at him for a split second before going back to staring at Jessie in wonder. It’s so cute, the way he looks at her like she’s the light of his life.
Then, my eyes meet Rhett’s again, and that’s exactly how he’s looking at me.
“I love you,” he mouths to me, and I swear my heart stops beating in my chest.
Clutching my throat, I blink back tears. “I love you too,” I mouth back.
I did it. I told her I love her. I couldn’t hold it back a second longer when I saw the look in her eyes. She is everything.
As soon as the ceremony’s done, and the minister says, “You may now kiss the bride”, I bound down the stairs, not caring that I was supposed to stay there for a bunch of photos.
I’ve got Reagan wrapped in my arms a moment later, my fingers intertwined in her silky locks, probably messing up her hairdo, but fuck it. I press my mouth to hers and take in all her sweetness, releasing a moan I can’t contain.
Gliding my tongue over her pouty bottom lip, I suck it and groan when she digs her fingers into my back beneath my suit coat. “I fucking love you,” I breathe into her parted lips. “So much, Reagan. So fucking much.”
Her smiling is blinding, and I feel it like a punch to the chest.
“I love you too,” she murmurs before pushing up on her tiptoes to take my mouth again.
So fucking perfect.
