“What the fuck are you doing here?” My mystery man, who I just found out was also my boss, growled and stood up from the chair at the head of the table.I'm fighting with my body right now. One part is demanding I just leave. This job isn't worth it, but the other part is telling me I deserve this job. Just because I had a one-night stand with my boss, technically before I had even started my job, doesn't mean I don't deserve to have this job when I know I'm damn well qualified for it.“I needed to speak with you,” I mumbled in embarrassment that I just barged in, told off the Sergeant at arms for calling me a bitch and then almost fell on my face in front of the asshole that kicked me out last night. “And I told you if you wanted another round, I'd be back at the bar tonight. You did not need to come up in my clubhouse throwing attitude because you want another go with my dick,” he growled and crossed his arms.“I'm sorry?” I asked, shocked that he would actually think that was the a
Today has been such a mess. Leaving a bar with my boss, going to my bosses house, and then fucking him like I never fucked anybody before, was a tremendous mistake. If I had known my handsome, rough — speaking mystery man was my boss, I would have never climbed on the back of his motorcycle. This was not a good type of mistake that my daddy wanted me to make. That was a terrible mistake that should never have happened. Not only did I almost get fired my first day on the job, the asshole was so arrogant that he assumed I'd go back to the bar tonight for another round. Jokes on him, I didn't go back to that bar. Instead, I'm currently curled up on my couch, my new kitten purring happily beside me, and watching a romantic comedy. I wasn't giving into my body's desires, my body wanted to be touched by that sexy motherfucker, but I knew it was just going to end up with me back on that porch waiting for a taxi, and then getting fired the next day. Nope.Not happening.For two reasons.
It's been two days, and I have not spoken to or seen Hawk, whatever his real name is. He practically forced me to have dinner with him, he made himself at home, he reused to leave after he ate his chicken, and he ended up falling asleep on my couch with my kitten on his lap. I felt so betrayed by the little chubby ball of cuteness. I was vexed that my asshole mystery man, who wasn't so much of a mystery anymore, but still kind of is, was using me to hide away from his ex-wife. The more I think about that night, the more exasperated I got, and more so about myself than anything else. I allowed my heart to feel hope again where that man was concerned.“It's time for you to leave,” I sighed, climbed off my couch, and pointed towards my apartment door. I was ready for bed. I needed to deal with everything. The main thing I had to process was the fact that his ex-wife had an issue with me, and according to Hawk, her clique that apparently spies on him, will also have a problem with me
I can't believe he is standing in front of my desk, looking like the injured party in this situation. I'm the only one who is entitled to be upset over this, and I'm honestly more upset with myself. I don't know what it is about this man, but I keep allowing my heart to feel things that are clearly not there. This isn't the exact type of adventure I wanted to be on, and I'm going to hop off this derailed rollercoaster because I haven't been having a fun time on it. I will admit the first night was full of fun, but now, not so much.“My problem Hawk, whatever your real name is, is that you came to my house two nights ago with dinner, put those leather boots on my coffee table, watched a movie with me while I cried, and slept with me on my couch. Then I hear nothing from you for two days,” I paused and held up two fingers and continued. “You knew where I would be.”He looked at me confused, his nose scrunched up before sighing loudly. “Yeah babe, I knew exactly where your sweet ass woul
I have been cautious my entire life. I planned down to the smallest little details even when I was a child. I had to be prepared for everything. I prepared checklists that I doubled checked. I went over my homework twice, sometime three times, before turning it in. On testing days at school, I was always the last to turn in my paper. I needed to make certain I had written the correct answers.It made my daddy crazy.It drove me crazy too sometimes, but I couldn't help it, I couldn't stop. I felt like something was wrong unless I followed my strict routine. It also ran my friends crazy, but you didn't see them complaining when they scraped their knees, got cuts, and I was handing them a band-aid before they could even realize they needed one. You again didn't see them complaining when it came down to studying for a major exam, and my notes were top tier and made sure we were always prepared for whatever could end up on those tests. I knew from a very young age what I wanted to do
The day after I buried my dad, I sat in the grass in front of his grave for a good two hours. The conversation we had before his body quit on him, running back and forth inside my head like a broken water hose.My brain wouldn't shut up.My brain wouldn't stop reminding me of the promise, the promise that I made in a desperate attempt to give him peace, the promise I made to my daddy while he was dying. I was content with my job. I was content in my relationship, but after those two hours; I realized my daddy was right. I was bored. I wasn't having fun, not the kind of fun he meant. Board games on date nights are not fun.Sex once a week on Sunday nights at the usual time of eight pm wasn't fun. Going through paperwork, day after day wasn't very much fun either.Coming home to my boyfriend every day and having the same conversations about our day wasn't fun.My daddy was right.I was in a rut.I was stuck.And I didn't know how to get out of it.I'm not roaring through life, I'm si
That night I hit the road, I started my adventure. I had no plans. I didn't know where I was going. I just got into my car and drove. My fun started inside my car. I always kept it spotless. I never opened the sunroof. I never blasted music so loud that the cars next to me at a red light could hear. I found a rap song and turned my volume up. I opened my never used sunroof and when I stopped at the store in my town to fill up my gas tank, I also grabbed snacks. Those snack wrappers were now laying on my passenger side floorboard. I tossed them. Yes, actually threw those wrappers onto my floor and I laughed while doing it.Wrappers on the floorboard, sunroof open, and loud music may not seem like a big deal, a lot of fun for most people, but for me, who never allowed myself to even leave a water bottle in the cupholder because I was scared it would bust open from the heat, it was fun. I headed down a highway, a highway I wasn't familiar with. I didn't even slow down to read the sig
I arrived in Holbrooke one week ago. The town is what you would expect a small town to be. People waving to one another, smiling and talking on the side walks in front of the local stores. The town wasn't bustling with busy bodies rushing, like the city I previously lived in. I could sleep at night without being woken up by honking vehicles.Holbrooke had one grocery store, hailed the Stocked Pantry. Three gas stations, three fast-food places, four restaurants, one of my favorite places to eat so far was a seafood restaurant called Tugboats. Holbrooke also had a family-owned diner that served the finest coffee, called Java Stop. They further had the best lemon bread I ever tasted. It didn't hurt that the old couple that owned it were super friendly and gave me my first coffee on the house.I had been staying in a motel while I went apartment hunting. It only took me two days to decide where I wanted to live, not that I even had many options. It was the closest of the two apartment