Easy breathing, easy stretching, calming thoughts. I haven’t done any yoga in a while, but the urge overcame me this morning to get out my mat and do it. A coping method I pull out when things get a little murky. When that addiction nudges at the back of my mind.
We all have something we’re addicted to. For some people, it’s alcohol or drugs. For some people, it’s real things that are tangible. Things you can physically touch and taste and see. For other people, they’re addicted to less visible things. They’re addicted to feelings and sensational things that can slip away easily as water can run through their fingers.
That’s me. That’s my downfall. The things many people take for granted, the things they don’t always recognize are there—they’re the things I’m addicted to; Intimacy Connection and Love.
I’m in love with love and lust, and that only strengthens my desire for the other things. I crave the intimacy of knowing someone so deeply that there’s no part of their soul I haven't explored. I need the connection of someone knowing me that deeply and vast. Having a bittersweet addiction is what drive me to like a person.
This is why I have rules. Does it really matter if I do with a different guy every couple of days? Does that make me a horrible person? I decided long ago that those questions mean nothing and it doesn't bother me. I’m as human as everyone else. I have the same desires.
Ross was great. Despite what Dayton and everyone else thought, there was no intimacy. He was my mate and I was his. It all worked perfectly fine until I found him friendly-fucking another person, huh.
He was my protection net. Because we rarely spent any time together outside of each other’s pants, there was no cause for a conversation or anything that would bring us together intimately. Ross was safe and he was stable for a few months, at least.
Since we “broke up,” I knew in my heart that ‘one person, one time’ was the rule I had to go by. Then there was really no chance for anything to get real.
Until fate stepped in and threw Ivan in my path. Fate’s Big Fvck-Up is the only appropriate way to describe this whole situation.
I can only be thankful for the short introductions Ivan and I had. If I knew his last name, it would be far too tempting. I could ask around, sure, but I can’t. That has to be my challenge, how I stay in the zone.
I snatch up my ringing phone. “Hello?”
“Brenda!” Dayton cries down the phone. “This is a disaster! Everything is going wrong!”
Good morning, soon to be wife
“What’s happened? Wait, no. Hang on. I’ll come over.”
“Oh, God,” she moans. I imagine her tugging at her hair in frustration.
“Give me ten minutes.” I hanged up and sigh.
I don’t know who’s more stressed over this wedding her or me. If there’s not something going wrong, like the bridal store ordering in the wrong size shoes, then she’s asking me a bunch of questions about the bridal shower and bachelor's party.
Are they done yet? Have I organized anything? Do I have any idea what I’m doing?
Someone needs to remind her that is a surprise.
I brushed my hair from my face and dump some pudding in Angus’s bowl in response to his incessant mewing. “Oh, don’t look at me that way, you can’t always have the canned food. There’s nothing wrong with that pudding you little rascal.”
Besides, I need to visit the store. Later.
I get behind the wheel of my car and head in the direction of Dayton’s apartment. Given the distress in her voice, the mistake is a good one, so I brace myself for a meltdown. I even check my glove box at some lights for a bottle of vodka.
I parked in the underground parking lot next to her Audii and key in the unlock code for Brian’s penthouse elevator. And yes, I roll my eyes. A keypad for an elevator.
“Tell Brian he needs to get rid of that keypad. It’s so stupid,” I said, walking into the apartment without knocking.
Dayton waves her hand. “Whatever. Brenda, disaster. It’s a disaster.”
“What, did the venue disappear or something?”
She shoots an evil look my way at my sarcasm. “Knowing my luck, it probably will. If she weren’t forbidden from any contact with us, I’d put my money on Gladys fucking around with my plans.”
“So what’s the problem?” I sat opposite her at the bar.
“The caterer is going out of business.”
Well, shit. That’s a kick in the center of a man's glory right there.
“Brian Sands is paying him to cater for his wedding and he’s going out of business?” I raised my eyebrows.
“I just… Where am I going to find anyone able to cater for us at short notice?”She groans and clicks at her laptop. “No, no, no!” She drops her head to the bar. “Why is this so hard for them to get right? Champagne and ivory are not the same color. The seat sashes ar
“I know him already,” I mumbled it out.Dayton tilted her head to the side, looking at me blankly. “Well, I suppose that will make everything easier. Maid of honor and best man. You guys have to get along.”
The problem with best friends is that they know everything about you. Dayton knows everything about me, about every last one of my rotting skeletons I keep locked away in a foolproof safe.But as she and Aaron discovered, skeletons don’t stay buried for long.
I turned and looked at her. Aaron was standing behind her, his hand on her back, staring at Ivan. Dayton’s eyes were flicking between us.“It’s fine,” I answered, grabbing my keys from the bar. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”He watched me the whole time. Like he’s a predator stalking his prey, his eyes were fixated on me. They follow my every move, studying me, evaluating me…memorizing me.It’s unnerving. But it’s not uncomfortable. It’s not a sinister look or even remotely bad. It’s casual. Intense, but casual. No different than the way you watch the characters move across the stage at the theater.If only there weren’t something…in his gaze that set off a herd of butterflies in my stomach so strong that I can barely eat a thing. Most of my dinner is pushed around my plate, untouched except for the gentle prodding of my fork.Aaron asked for the
“Oh, that parts. Still not believing you.” He released one of my wrists and dived his hand into my hair. “It came to my attention during dinner that you’re rather mouthy.”“I’m an independent woman. Being a sarcastic, mouthy bitch is an occupational hazard.”His laugh is low, and the way it shaked his body made his thigh rub against my core. I bite my lip again. Holy crap.“Ah, yes. The independent woman.” Ivan dropped his face and brushed a kiss against my jaw. “Vibrator and all.”My cheeks flushed. Why, oh why, did I have to mention the vibrator?He kissed his way down my jaw, his fingers flexing at both my wrist and the back of my head.“Ivan, get the fuck off of me.” Before I spontaneously combust because it’s getting damn hot out here.“Mouthy,” he whispered.He pressed his lips to mine before I could do anything about it,
Cake. There were cake everywhere. Every-fucking-where. Normal cake, Chocolate cake, Cheesecake, Red velvet cake, Ooh, Red velvet cake… yummy. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. We are in a bakery, after all, but just the sight of all the cake is making me feel a little sick. I haven’t tasted a thing yet, but I’d bet I’ll be ready to vomit pretty damn soon if the platter in front of me is anything to go by. I eyed it warily, and Dayton nudged me. “It’s just cake.” “It’s a lot of cake. I mean, how many different types of cake are there?” She looked around the bakery. “A lot, evidently.” “Why do we have to try them all?” I picked up a chocolate cake sample and looked at the label. “Chocolate fudge cake! Well, we both know what that tastes like.” She grabbed my wrist before I could put it down. “Brenda, humor me, please?” I turned my face toward her. “Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha.” She tried to put an annoyed look, but the twitch of her
I hanged my coat in the back room and relieved Jeanie of her shift. She waved goodbye with a thankful expression, and I knew instantly that Old Jack was in the bar.Old Jack, or Jack Brice, is one of the loveliest old men I’ve ever met. When he’s sober. When he’s had a few ales, he turns into a humorous old lad with a roving eye over all the bar girls.This happened on a regular basis, given that my boss was a bit of a pig who insisted on only having young people behind his bar. Young girls bring in the guys and young guys bring in the girls.Tonight, Jeanie had brought in Old Jack and kindly left him for me. And judging by the grin on his face, he’s not totally hammered. Yet.“Brenda,” he crooned my name like he’s a ‘country singer. I’ve heard on radio.“Jack.” I looked at him my best smile. “How are you this evening?”“Better for seeing you, darlin’.
“There are several things on offer tonight, but they might not be what you’re looking for.”“I’m sure there’s something in this bar I’m looking for.” His eyes flashed.“Then you should probably look at the bar instead of the woman serving behind it.”The twitching in his lips pulled them into a full-fledged smirk. “I’ll try, but I’m not promising anything.”“Oh, isn’t that the problem,” I muttered, turning to serve another person.Ivan’s eyes were on me the whole time, following every one of my movements as I poured three pints and handed them to the barely legal co-eds eyeing me up.“Are you working all night?” one of them asked. He was built and leaned his elbow on the bar so his bicep flexed.“I am,” I smiled at him flirtatiously.He winked before turning away with his buddies.I heard a