by Krystle Rose
"I'm not sure which is sadder, me getting dumped for a stripper or you being the player that you are and somehow not being able to get any."
"First of all," Owen set about straightening her out, "it's not that I'm not able to get pussy, it's that I haven't tried to get any."
"Of course. Because you could just wink and get any girl you wanted."
Owen was rakishly handsome and reeked of masculinity. He was tall, ripped, had a great smile with dimples on either side, blonde hair that was always tousled, and piercing gray eyes that made most girls melt. When Canaan had first brought him home, thirteen-year-old Nomi had immediately taken interest in him, but there was no way a Sophomore was going to take a liking to a girl in junior high, so her dreams were crushed pretty quickly. Then, as the years went by, her crush on him faded and Nomi had placed him comfortably in the friend zone. Still, she couldn't deny that he was still strikingly handsome as an adult and just as alluring as ever.
"Exactly." Ever the cocky bastard. "Wait, Brian left you for a stripper?"
Nomi nodded and gave him a disappointed look. Crossing her arms over her chest defensively, she enlightened him.
"He turned twenty-one last month and started hitting the clubs with his friends. That's where he met Cinnamon, apparently."
"Cinnamon?" He choked out. "You're kidding me."
"Nope," she snorted. "Bet you can't guess her hair color."
"I bet I could guess that and her cup size," Owen said with a hearty chuckle.
"Are you saying mine are small?" She demanded.
"I'm saying that based on the size of yours, hers would have to be bigger in order to get his attention."
A typical man response, assuming that it must be physical attributes that dragged her ex away. Although it made Nomi cringe, she knew Owen was probably right. Things between herself and Brian had been stale, but not ugly. They hadn’t fought or had some big to-do, he simply found something better, somewhere else, and left.
"So, you have looked at my boobs," Nomi mentioned, getting back to the topic at hand.
Her stomach twisted at the thought of his eyeing her like that, but she immediately stamped down the emotions and laughed awkwardly to avoid hearing his answer.
"I knew it."
"I am a heterosexual male, so yeah," Owen replied nonchalantly.
Nomi's insides burned. Before she could even formulate a response, Canaan reappeared and parked in front of them. Both Nomi and Owen looked at him and the shit-eating smile on his face.
"Who's ready to sling some mud?"
"You go next," she suggested to Owen.
He happily obliged, traded spots with Canaan, and took off toward the field. Owen whooped in support and laughed, then came to stand next to Nomi.
"You'll feel better after you get a few laps in," he told her.
"Maybe. If I picture myself running him over," she kidded.
"Whatever gets the job done," Owen responded, knocking her shoulder with his.
Nomi stumbled, but regained her footing and gave him a dry expression. Then they were silent as they watched Owen tear it up in the puddles and do donuts in the mud. They both had a good guffaw at his crazy behavior and an even better laugh when he returned covered in wet dirt.
"Your turn, sis," Canaan said, urging her to switch with Owen.
Excitement fluttered in her chest. Taking a seat, she clicked the lap buckle into place and pressed down on the accelerator. The wind in her hair felt amazing, right off the bat, even though the cold stung her cheeks. Pulling into the vast open land, Nomi headed straight for a big patch of mud and sent up a spray of brown around her. Giggling like crazy, she then took a tight turn through a puddle and splashed rainwater out behind the cart.
It was just as much fun as she remembered and twice as exhilarating. Her stress disintegrated with every passing second. The whirr of the engine, the feel of every bump and hole in the ground, the adrenaline pumping through her veins, it was all so wonderful. Nomi was glad Canaan talked her into this.
She did a few turns through the field before returning to her brother and his friend. When she got back, they were clapping in praise and grinning at her mud-covered outfit. Nomi got out and her sibling climbed right in, taking off again. Owen smirked and approached, then reached out and touched Nomi's face. She froze.
His fingers brushed her cheek and his thumb swiped across her chin. Nomi held her breath and begged her heart to slow. It was racing before, with the excitement of the ride, but now it was working double time.
"You've got dirt on your face."
She dismissed the initial gut reactions to his touch and put her walls back up, where they belonged.
"Can't look any worse than I did this morning, right?"
She blushed and swatted his hand away, acting as if it were weird and not sexy as hell. Owen's face fell and he looked at her sternly.
"You look fine. You always do. I was only giving you a hard time."
"I know," she gulped, "it's okay."
Owen took a step back and shoved his hands into his pockets. Nomi pulled her jacket tighter over her chest and looked away.
"How long do you think we'll stay out here?" She asked.
"I don't know. Why? You in a hurry to get back and sulk some more?"
Ouch.
"No. Just wondering."
His attitude toward the breakup scathed her. He seemed more pissed off about it than her brother was, which was strange. It was almost as if Owen was angry at her for dating Brian in the first place. It wasn't her fault the guy ended up being a loser who preferred the company of exotic dancers.
"You'll find someone else. Someone better," Owen told her.
"Maybe. Not right now. I think I'm going to take a break."
"That's not a bad idea. Take a month to pull yourself together and then get back out there with a clear head," he approved.
"Well… I'm thinking maybe longer than that."
"Two months?"
She didn't answer.
"Three?" Owen gasped.
Lifting her chin proudly, she decided, "I think I'll take a year off."
Owen burst into hysterics and held his belly as though it hurt. Nomi watched him with raised eyebrows and intrigue. He didn't think she could do it. Well, he had another thing coming.
"It's not funny," she said with all seriousness. "I'm tired of the drama and heartache and all the work it takes to start again. I'm over it."
"So you're going to just avoid relationships completely and that's going to fix everything?"
"No, but it will allow me space and time to reflect, change, decide what I really want. Then, when I'm ready to try again, I won't be willing to settle for less than what I truly deserve."
Owen stopped laughing and leveled his gaze on her.
"You're not kidding."
"I'm not," she concurred. "I'll use the time to figure out my life and get my shit in order. Then I'll be in a better place to let someone in again."
"Wow, that's… actually really smart. And brave. I could never go a year without sex."
"Yeah, well, sex isn't everything."
"Debatable."
Nomi rolled her eyes.
"I'll do without and then when I'm ready, it will be all the more pleasurable, right?"
"With the right guy, sure," Owen allowed.
"By then, I'll only be looking for 'the right guy,'" she explained.
She hadn't really given the plan much thought, it just sort of popped into her head as she discussed it with Owen, but it actually sounded like a reasonable and logical idea. One that Nomi was willing to commit to. A year would allow her time to establish a career, move out of her parents' house, and figure out what she really wanted -- and deserved. Then, and only then, would she be ready to put herself back out there.
"More power to you."
"Thanks."
She sort of felt badass for thinking of it, especially with the likes of Owen Blankfield giving her kudos for her idea.
> "Better you than me."
"Maybe it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world for you to do the same," Nomi recommended.
"Oh hell no," Owen denied her. "I enjoy sex way too much."
"Well, it would do you some good to reflect on your own life. Get your own shit in together. You and Canaan both."
"I'm happy with the way things are."
Twenty-three years old and living in an apartment in the basement of his parents’ house? Working two crappy jobs just to afford rent? Never having any meaningful relationships beyond the friendship he shared with her brother? If Owen was happy with that, then his standards were low in other areas besides women.
Nomi didn't say that out loud, though. She pursed her lips together and kept that little tidbit to herself. As Canaan drove toward them, they were quiet.
"Why the sour faces?" He queried after he parked the cart
"Your sister's going celibate," Owen spat out as he swapped positions with Canaan.
Her brother spun to face her. Nomi gawked at the back of Owen's head wordlessly.
"Really?" He questioned with lifted brows. "That's the best news a big brother could hear."
Nomi snapped her jaw shut and scowled, eliciting a chortle from her sibling. She was about to rail on Owen for selling her out when he promptly took off into the rain as it started coming down again.
Month 1
Since she was sixteen, Nomi had been in one relationship after another and, although High School relationships were debatably inconsequential, they had started her on the path of mistreatment at the hands of men. Unfortunately, she had gotten used to the abuse and unhealthy relationships because that's all she had truly known and that put her in bad situations from an early age. Nomi wasn’t even sure why or how that started, but somehow she had let herself be led down a string of toxic relationships.
It wasn’t as if she had bad examples of men in her life. Her father was a decent dude, with strong morals and chivalry. He had been married to her mother for nearly twenty years and they were still going strong. Canaan, despite his cocky attitude sometimes, was a good man, too. So, it wasn’t like Nomi didn’t know the type of guy she deserved. She just got mistreated a few times in the first couple of couplings she’d had and then suddenly, that became the norm. It was something that needed to change now.
Nomi had mulled it over for a few days, then concluded that this vow was the most pertinent choice and she honestly felt quite confident in her decision. Even though Canaan and Owen would never understand and would continue to give her a hard time about it, Nomi was resolute. This was happening, not just because she wanted it to, but because she needed it to.
She would start by cleaning her room. Not just a usual pick up and vacuum sort of deal, but a real deep clean that included throwing away all the old love notes and gifts from her exes, all the clothes and remember-me's they'd left behind, all the crap that reminded her of them. Additionally, Nomi planned to weed out what she needed and what she didn't. Whatever wasn't necessary any more could be posted online and sold and the money made would go into a jar for saving. She had a plan for that use later.
Canaan would be gone all weekend and her parents were busybodies, so she wouldn't be bothered. That gave her plenty of time to get done what she wanted to. Nomi started early Saturday morning and didn't finish until late Sunday night and, by the time she had completed her task, her bedroom was mostly barren.
It was better that way. Then, when she was ready to move out, she'd have less to pack, right? Plus, Nomi didn't need things to make her happy, she needed to find happiness in everyday stuff like sunshine and flowers and a friendly face. She needed to reset her mindset. God, how hippy did that sound? No matter, it was true.
When cleaning became daunting, she took a break and chose to vent her feelings in the best way she knew how. By calling her closest gal-pal.
"You're insane," her friend told her when Nomi explained the situation.
Jenna was reliable, someone Nomi knew she could always lean on and would be candid with her, no matter what. So, when things got overwhelming, she knew she could reach out to her girlfriend and get her thinking back on track.
"I'm not, actually. I'm just… ready."
"It's like you're having a midlife crisis, but you're not even twenty-one yet."
"No, I'm just growing up. You should try it sometime," Nomi teased as she dropped down onto her neatly made bed, disheveling it once more.
Clutching her cell phone to her ear, she stared up at the ceiling and listened to the other end of the line.
"If I moved out, my Mom would have a meltdown. Trust me, it's for her well-being that I stay. Besides, there's no way I could afford rent on my student's salary."
Jenna went to school full time at Southern Oregon University and worked part-time as a sales associate at a clothing store to pay for books and Starbucks. She lived alone with her mother, a wealthy widow who wished her daughter would just relax and stay home more often. Jenna had mentioned a time or two that she felt like her Mother just wanted someone to be as miserable as her. From what Nomi had seen and heard, that had a ring of truth to it.
"True. But I'm ready to be an adult. I want to live on my own, support myself, be my own person. I want to figure out who I am and then find somebody who loves who I've become, ya know?"
"No," Jenna snorted, "but good for you. You do you, boo."
"That's the plan," Nomi confidently agreed.
Even though she hadn't changed her mind since then, she was beginning to get a little weary. The prospect of starting over and down this new path, with no idea what the future held, was scary. Then again, the idea of continuing to do what she had already been doing was also discerning. She knew where that road led and she didn't want to go there, so even though it was frightening to take this journey, Nomi was powering ahead.
Now, with her room cleaned and organized, she felt like she had a clean slate to start over from. This was the launching pad for the next twelve months and Nomi felt good about that.
Sitting down on the edge of her mattress, she looked at her surroundings. Smiling to herself, she then picked up an empty glass pickle jar from the floor. Her dad always kept them to brew sun tea in, so she stole one from his stockpile. Nomi had taped a piece of paper to the front and now she used a felt tip marker to write "Dreams" on it.
Holding it in her lap, she looked down at her handy work and her heart swelled at the idea of that jar being full by the end of the year. At that point, she'd use the money for whatever she wanted, preferably she'd have enough to start her own business.
Since Nomi was a kid, she had dreamed of running her own shop one day. What kind of shop changed as she got older, but for the past three years, it had stayed the same. She wanted to have a food truck one day. It wouldn't be anything big or fancy, she wasn't a culinary artist or anything, just a cute little restaurant on wheels with her name on the side. She'd sell curious creations like burritos with french fries stuff into them. Classic California style food like that, but with a twist. She already had a ton of menu ideas rolling around in her head and she couldn't wait to share them with eager foodies.
A food truck appealed to her because she wanted to travel, to see new things, meet new people, experience the world outside of her rural city. It would enable her to go to fun events, which she loved, and it was really the best way to show a different type of food to a bigger array of customers. Nomi wanted all of that.
She had gone to community college after graduating high school and took a full load of business classes, but then she realized that school wasn't for her. She dropped out and went to work full time at the restaurant she'd be employed with since she was seventeen. Almost four years later, Nomi was the manager there and had enough experience to feel confident in opening her future place.
Her college experience hadn't been for nothing. She'd learned a lot about how to run a business and in the past few years, she'd gained knowledge on how to manage one. Nomi felt r
eady now. It was time to start working toward that goal of owning her food truck.
“Sis!” Canaan called out from the hallway.
Nomi shut her laptop and shoved it away just as her older brother knocked on her door. She welcomed him in and crossed her legs underneath her.
“Halloween party at Melinda’s tonight. You game?”
“Ugh,” she groaned. Slicing her hands through the air, Nomi told him, “No way. I can’t stand her and I’m guessing her friends are just as bad.”
Melinda was a notorious party girl. She was young, pretty, and promiscuous. She happened to also be Nomi's ex-high-school bully. Spending an evening with her sounded like torture.
“Jeez, easy on the hater-ade,” he warned her. “It’s going to be pretty much every single person over eighteen from twenty miles around. It’s like Cinderella’s ball, only for hillbillies.”
“You’re the worst,” she replied, shaking her head.
“You haven’t been out in ages and you’re single, it’s time to mingle.”
Canaan did a little dance and Nomi had to bite her cheeks to keep from grinning at his silly behavior. When his display didn’t seem to work, he decided to play a different hand. Folding his arms over his broad chest, he narrowed his gaze on her.
“What?”
Nomi didn’t dare guess what that look meant.
“You’re coming or I’m telling Mom that it was you that didn’t shut the refrigerator all the way the other night and caused all the food to go bad.”
“But I--” she squeaked. “You--”
“Uh-huh,” he nodded slowly.
“I hate you,” Nomi shouted, throwing a pillow at him.
Canaan ducked and dodged the flying object, then smirked wickedly, provoking her further. She grunted and commanded that he leave her room immediately. He chuckled at his victory and skipped out the door.
“We’re leaving at nine!” Canaan yelled over his shoulder.
