by Dee Florence
Lottie: See you at 7. Shower first, you filthy minx!!
Lottie: And don’t reply to me, give him your attention. xxx
I laugh again. Blake looks up at me from where he stopped at the table.
“It was Lottie. She’s just checking you’re not the big bad wolf.”
His eyes darken, “Who says I’m not?” He smirks.
I blush. Even after a whole weekend with him, his interest in me still baffles me.
Why me?
He taps the table where my craft supplies are spread out. “Tell me about this. Did you make this?” He points at a foil graphic art print I designed and made.
I nod. “I just make them for fun, but yeah. I made that.”
“Did you design it too?” I nod again. “It’s really good, babe! You should totally sell these!”
I shake my head. “I’m still new at it. It’s not that good. I couldn’t sell them. There are others that are way better than mine.”
He furrows his brows at me. “Nah. I mean it. These are great. I should pay you to make me a mock-up business card for my course!”
I just stare back at him.
He walks over to me and wraps me in a hug from the side. He kisses my temple and speaks into it, “So. Much. Talent. I can see why you light up when you talk about crafting now. Maybe this is where your birds are leading you?”
“Oh. I don’t think I could make a living from this. But it’s fun to do. That’s enough for now.” I wiggle in his arms so I’m facing him and look up, “Would you like a tour?”
He’s seen most of it. But it’s all I can think of to change the subject.
He nods. “Yeah. Show me your sweet pad.” He grabs my hand and has me lead him around the space.
It doesn’t take long but I end it in my bedroom.
Thank god I remembered to make my bed! Thanks, past Cate!
“Is this where the magic happens, babe?”
I shake my head, because there’s no magic happening in this room, unless you rename my vibrator that.
“Oh, we’ll see about that.”
He picks me up and tosses me into the middle of the bed. I giggle and let him have his way with me.
TWENTY
CATE
Blake eventually leaves my apartment with a kiss to my forehead and an “I’ll text you”.
I’m glad that Lottie is on her way, because I’m not sure what to think and I probably shouldn’t be alone to think about it.
I use the app to order the pizzas and open the windows to let the warm evening air in.
It’s that time in late spring where the warm summer-like nights feel like a gift, before the heat really hits and becomes unbearably warm overnight. I call it t-shirt weather and t-shirt weather is my absolute favourite.
There’s a knock at my door, “Wine delivery!” Lottie shouts through the closed door.
I’m ready for her this time and open the door almost instantly. “Just what I always wanted! Come on in.”
She’s just the cutest in her spring outfit. She’s wearing cut off shorts that look fantastic with her long legs. She’s paired them with a white Levi’s tee—where the logo is in white sequins that sparkle in the light—and her curly brown hair is in a high pony tail.
She’s finished off the look with white Chuck Taylor’s and she looks effortlessly chic. Her mother is from a small island in the Caribbean called Guadeloupe and she has the most beautifully tanned, glowing skin. The word ‘Queen’ was made for her.
Sigh, if only we could all pull off effortless so well.
I wave her in. “Don’t mind the mess, staying out all weekend seems fun until you have to do all your laundry for the week, in a matter of hours on a Sunday afternoon!”
I point to the washing basket loaded with clean clothes that need folding and my clothes horse that’s covered in cotton dresses that are drying in the warm air.
She rolls her eyes at me and hands me the wine bottles. “Don’t go complaining about dirty weekends, sweets. The sex fairy can both giveth and taketh away! Don’t go pissing her off.”
I laugh. “I think that’s all the giving I’ll be getting in a long time. I’m sure there’s a quota and I accidentally passed mine.” I pour the wine and she grabs the pizza from the delivery driver who has knocked it at just the right time.
Am I sure that I didn’t hit my head and this isn’t a very lucid dream?
We plop down on the couch. She opens the pizza boxes for us and I hand her a glass of wine.
“Sooooo, tell me every—single—thing! And don’t leave anything out for your poor friend who is in the middle of her worst dry spell in years!” She says.
“Since when are you in a dry spell?”
“Since I haven’t gone home with someone in three whole weeks!”
“You know that’s not a real dry spell, right Lottie?”
She harrumphs and rolls her eyes, “It is for me! But you’re changing the subject and I won’t let you. Tell me now, dammit!”
“Fine, Grumpy McGrumperson! Did I tell you about the date night we had on Thursday? Or should I skip to dinner on Friday night?”
“Hold up!” She shakes her head. “It is Sunday night and you executed the fun date three nights ago and kept me in the dark about all of it? If I wasn’t so excited that you’re dating a Thor look-alike, I would not be speaking to you right now.”
“Okay, okay! I’m very sorry! This stuff doesn’t happen to me, so I forget that I need to keep you in the loop.” I genuinely feel bad that I got so caught up in whatever this is—was?—with Blake. “Honestly, it feels like a dream and you’re going to pour cold water on me and wake me any minute now. I’ll start at Thursday. Just let me eat my pizza before it’s cold.”
I begin with Thursday’s date at The Arcade. It feels like it was weeks ago and not only three nights ago. We eat and drink as the story goes on.
She’s so engrossed, she rarely stops me to ask questions and acts as though she’s listening to a podcast or an audiobook.
I skim over some details that I want to keep just for me, but I mostly tell her the whole thing. I take a deep breath at the end. I’ve probably been talking for 40 minutes or so and she’s barely said a word.
“I thought it was going to get weird when he wanted to talk about why I got my tattoos, but he was so sweet about it.” I add. “Then we had the most intense sex I’ve ever had. It was slow and deep and like he was trying to screw away my pain or something. After everything that we’d done before that, it was so unexpected.”
“That’s so fucking hot. Are you dating now? Is this an ongoing thing?”
“I really don’t know. I kind of assumed that when the weekend was over, we’d just part ways. But then he insisted on coming here to see this place and we fell into bed again before he left and it doesn’t feel over.” I shrug. “But I don’t think it’s dating either?”
“Did you make plans to meet up again? Anything beyond today?”
“No. He kissed me in the forehead and said that he would text as he was leaving, but maybe that was it?” I shrug again, because I really don’t know. “It might be for the best because I feel like I’m in way over my head when I’m with him. Like it’s a bubble where just the two of us exist.”
“Hmmm. But do you want it to end now? Or do you just not want to get hurt later?” She asks, with a crease in her brow. “You know you’re amazingly compatible in bed. You had a great time out at The Arcade and he seems to be genuinely nice, if not a bit cocky.
“You’re allowed to want him, you know? You don’t always have to be Ms Sensible. I love that you’re living a little. It’s about damn time!”
“I really don’t know! He could hurt me so badly. But he has done boyfriend-y things without him really realising that he’s doing it and they were nice. I’m not sure if now is a good time for catching feelings, Lottie. Shouldn’t I work on getting my shit together first?”
Lottie raises a finger at me. “First, what if it’s him that
is catching feelings?”
I shake my head and I nearly slosh my wine as I move my whole body with the head shake. I lick the glass to make sure. I might be a bit tipsy at this stage.
Sharing is hard.
“Oh no. He’s not the catching feelings kind.”
“They all are eventually, babe. Trust me.” I put my glass down and shake my head again. She puts up two fingers in front of my face, “Annnd second, maybe this is getting your shit together? Maybe this is what helps everything else fall in to place? Don’t write off what I have to say. I’m smarter than I look!”
“Maybe? But the ball is in his court. Until I hear differently, I just had the best dirty weekend of my life and I will gladly remember it—in all its epic glory—for the rest of my days. That can be enough for me.” I nod as though that settles it.
“I love you more than anything. You know that, right?” Lottie looks like she suddenly sobered up.
I nod and wince, because I know something harsh is coming.
“That shouldn’t be enough. You deserve the world and even if it’s not this guy. There is someone out there that’s made to give you amazing orgasms and to also love you—for all of you—as a whole.
“But promise me that you’ll give him a chance if he asks for one? Don’t let Ms Sensible ruin this. Even if you might get hurt. I promise I’ll help pick up the pieces and build you back better than ever. You deserve this fun. Please take it, if he offers. Okay?”
“Okay. I will. I promise.” I lean in and hug her as tight as I can. This woman has my back completely. Just like I have hers. It’s a blessing I don’t take lightly.
Thank the universe for having us sit next to one another in a first-year uni class!
I walk her down the stairs to her cab and remind her to text me when she gets home. She’s capped off a brilliant weekend for me and I haven’t had a second to get the Sunday night work blues.
I’m in bed when her text comes through.
Lottie: Thanks for the best dirty audiobook reading I’ve heard in ages. Love you. xx
Cate: Ha! Night, fave. Sleep well. xx
My phone buzzes again, I’m expecting it to be Lottie, remembering something else, but it’s not.
The Man: Thanks for the best dirty weekend ever, sweet cheeks! I’ll be surviving on those memories for a lifetime.
Cate: No! Thank you for the best dirty weekend ever, bear arms! *wink emoji*
The Man: We did not agree on that name for me. Where’s my veto?
Cate: I didn’t agree to what you call me, either. That’s not how this works.
Cate: And now I know it annoys you so, I might have to continue using it? *shrugs emoji*
The Man: Grrr! I could bite you for that!
Cate: Who says I wouldn’t like that?
OMG. Where did that come from? Did I really send that?
The Man: Oh, I know you would and now I’m going to think about it all night long. Sweet dreams, gorgeous. x
Cate: Sleep tight, bear arms. *tongue poking out emoji* x
Lottie made me promise I’d follow him down the rabbit hole if he asked.
I guess I’m falling all the way in.
Head first.
TWENTY-ONE
BLAKE
The early start is kicking my arse this Monday morning.
I usually have no problems with them, but after a weekend of nothing but fun, I’m finding it a hard bounce back to reality. The sun is belting down today and there’s no shade on this property. Even at 7:30 in the morning.
I love working with plants, but it’s on days like these that I wish I was the architect sitting in the cool, air conditioned office and not the gardener with the sun on his back.
I’m feeling stiff today too. I consider myself fitter than most, but Cate worked me in ways my body had never been worked before. I have sore muscles that I didn’t know existed.
I don’t really know what’s going on with me and her, but I know that I’m not ready for it to be over. That woman still has secrets to unlock and I’m going to be her key.
Damn it. I’m thinking about her at work again.
“Hey! Where were you this weekend, mate?” Matt’s question snaps me out of my thoughts.
“I was at home, studying. I told you?” I raise my eyebrow at him.
“Were you though? I popped round on Sunday afternoon and you weren’t home? Did you get a better offer?” He thinks I’m bullshitting and he’s caught me.
He’s not wrong, but I’m not telling him that.
“I mean, went to get groceries. I didn’t know I had to leave a schedule with you?” I huff. “What are you, my keeper?”
He shakes his head. “Nah. I just thought we’d enjoy a Sunday session watching the replays. I brought beer.”
“Ah. Sorry to have missed you, mate. That would have been good. Maybe another time?” I ease up on him, because I know I’m overreacting.
I just can’t tell him about Cate. He won’t get it.
“Yeah. I’ll text before I come, next time.”
“Yeah, sounds good!” I put my hand out in front of me and he taps his palm to mine and we shake on it. We don’t hold grudges, so all is forgiven. I point at the garden and we get back to work. “Did you have a good one?”
“Not bad. There’s always a good time to be had. You know me.”
I do know him. The party boy. I was right there along with him at least half the time. I tried not to party the whole weekend away, but I was often at—at least—one party a weekend.
Until I met her, that is. It’s like the appeal of partying and meeting new women has switched off in my brain.
This is why I need to get her out of my system. I’m not the stay home all weekend guy.
Maybe I need a fling with her to fix me? Nothing long term. Nothing serious. Just a little fling.
It’s no wonder he’s acting like I abandoned him. He doesn’t know about her. All he knows is that I’ve blown off hanging out with him two weekends in a row and he knows something is off.
I need to make more of an effort with him. Just not the partying kind right now.
“Hey?” I ask him as we’re packing up for the day, “Did you want to come ’round tonight and watch a replay? Can’t be a full Sunday sesh, but it could be good to catch up. I’ll order something unhealthy if it sweetens the pot?”
He grins at that. “Yeah, man. Let’s do it!” He grabs his work polo and pulls the sweat soaked fabric from his skin. “Let me go home and take a shower, and I’ll meet you at yours. What take away are you getting? It’s Monday, so half the good places are shut.”
“Pizza or burgers? What’s your poison?”
“Burgers. Hamburger with the lot for me. And don’t forget the chips, since you’re buying.” I groan, but nod.
“Will do.” I tap the side of my ute twice, in confirmation. “See you later.”
The burger delivery arrives 5 minutes after Matt plonks himself on the couch and takes hold of the remote to find the replays from the weekend. I drop the brown paper bags on the coffee table, in front of the dinner plates I already put out. Matt has brought the beer, so we’re good to go.
I grab my food out of the bag and add it to my plate. Matt on the other hand, just half unwraps his burger and holds it in his hand. When you’re the neat one, but your friends aren’t, sometimes you have to hide your cringe and hope they don’t destroy your carpet.
“Hey, there’s a plate there for you, you savage!”
“Yeah, yeah. It will be fine. I won’t get anything on your precious carpet.” He just rolls his eyes and takes a swig of beer with his, non-burger filled, hand.
He’s set up the replay for us and swaps his beer for the remote to hit play. Arsenal are playing Chelsea and it’s going to be a good one. I’ve been so distracted with offline life that I don’t even know the score.
We always pretend it’s live and we don’t know the result, but tonight I don’t need to pretend. It’s as good as watching it on match d
ay.
There’s plenty of yelling at the TV. At the players. At the refs. At the stupid VAR. Even at the commentating team when they get it completely wrong.
We’re enjoying ourselves though. There’s a lot of back slapping and “Did you see that?” happening. But it’s like we’re back to normal. Even if I pay for this with a headache tomorrow, it’s been worth it.
After half time, I switched to water and convince Matt to as well. Though he does so a little more begrudgingly. But it’s a school night and he needs to drive home after this. One of us needs to be the adult and it’s never him.
The match is a draw in the end, but we sit and discuss it for at least an hour after it’s finished.
I yawn. The early start has caught up with me and we get to do it four more times this week.
“All right old man, better leave you to your beauty sleep.” Matt jokes. “You sure as fuck need it.” He punches my arm playfully and laughs at his own joke.
“Old man? What does that make you? You’re older than me, you cheeky shit.”
He just shrugs and grins. “Yeah, but you’re not as handsome as me. So, you don’t hide it as well.” He gives me a shoulder tap and leaves me to clean the mess. Bloody slob! He heads out the front door and I hear it slam, which reminds me of my first night with Cate.
Geez, even doors slamming have me thinking of her. Is there much left that doesn’t?
I clean up and head to bed. I can’t help but pick up my phone and text the woman on my mind. It’s becoming a habit I should break, but I just don’t want to.
Blake: Hey, sweet cheeks! Have a good day?
Sweet Cheeks: Hey! Not really. But it was okay.
Blake: That’s no good. Want to talk about it?
Sweet Cheeks: Not really. Mostly just crappy work stuff.
Blake: Tell me the best thing that happened then?
The bubble for typing pops up and disappears a few times. Either she has a lot to say or she can’t decide what to write and keeps deleting. I’m almost holding my breath to see her response.
She so has my balls and I’m not even mad.
Sweet Cheeks: Um, I designed and printed some more cards tonight and they turned out pretty cool. I’m going to get some more foil colours so I can design things I don’t have the right colours for right now.
