CHAPTER 7

“Come here.” He nudged my nose with his and slid me off the counter. Without letting me go, he carried me through to my room. Just when I was smiling at his act of romance, he pulled out of me and dumped me unceremoniously on my bed.

I shrieked and grabbed my sheet to stop myself from falling onto the floor. “You dick!” I yelled as he disappeared into the bathroom.

Of course, he laughed. He never took me seriously when I yelled insults at him, and that was half the fun.

“Hey, bitch.” He threw a towel on top of me and then jumped over me. His knees were on either side of my thighs, his forearms by my head, and his grinning face was hovering just inches above mine.

“What?” I asked, awkwardly reaching between us and wiping. Somehow, I eased my panties down and threw them on the floor.

His smile widened. “You never gave me my blow job.”

My own lips moved to mirror his, and I tapped his nose. “That’s what you get for teasing me and fucking me on my kitchen counter. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to clean the counter while you call and order me a replacement dinner.”

I scooted up the bed and swinged my legs over the side. Then I grabbed a pair of cotton shorts from my drawer and pulled them on.

“You forgot your underwear.”

I paused at the door and glanced over my shoulder. “A woman never forgets her underwear. What she puts on—or doesn’t—is entirely deliberate and always serves a purpose. You should remember that.”

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I rubbed my temple as the receptionist on the other end of the phone babbled on about…well, I don’t know. Nothing informative.

“Yeah, okay,” I cut in. “But can you give me prices? Packages? Or do I physically have to come to California to get this information?”

She paused. “I can email it to you.”

“That would be great.”

“Okay. Can you give me your preferred dates so I can check availability…for how many people?”

“Uh…four or five.” Despite the wedding, I knew that Day didn’t want a huge friggin’ bachelorette party.

“For a bachelorette party?”

“You know, there’s another spa two blocks away from you that was very accommodating when I called earlier today.”

“Just a second, ma’am.”

I couldn’t help it. I smirked.

“We have availability for you, but not for our complete package.”

“No good,” I said immediately. “All or nothing.”

“We don’t have time slots for five of you that day, ma’am.”

“Okay. Thanks.” I hanged up and dropped the phone.

Three spas. Two no-gos. One possibility.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

I dropped my phone on the coffee table and stood up. Immediately, Angus started mewling at me and ran over to his food bowl. I checked the time. Shit. I had to get ready for work.

I dumped a can of food into his bowl—much to his Lordship’s delight—and darted into my room. I pulled some skinny blue jeans and a white shirt from my drawers and quickly slunk into them. As quickly as you can slink into skinny jeans, that is. And, let’s be honest, there’s no graceful way to do it.

I hoped into the bathroom, still tugging them up my thighs, and fell into the doorframe. Yup, definitely not graceful. That bitch will bruise in the morning. I shoved toothpaste on my toothbrush then the brushed into my mouth, holding it still with pursed lips as I button the jeans. 

Brushing my teeth with one hand, I ran my hairbrush through my hair with the other. And looked in the mirror. 'Fuck a duck, have I been wandering around with panda eyes all day?'

So nice of Ivan to tell me when he left a few hours ago.

I spitted out my toothpaste and wiped the makeup from my face simultaneously. I hoped my best friend would appreciate the late and frantic efforts I’m putting into this bachelorette party business. I was kind of hoping that I could forgo the planning shit and just turn up somewhere… Alas, no.

I had a list in my messages. A real fucking list. A to-do list.

Until that morning, there was only one thing on my to-do list: Ivan Sands. Now, there were around fifty million things she wanted me to do.

'Book the party. Invite Mish. Email details to everyone. Find a hotel to stay at. Organize a restaurant and book a table for dinner and drinks. Find evening entertainment. Yeah. I’m not even going to think about the effing bridal shower.'

I grabbed my phone and keys from the side and ran down the stairs. It was raining outside—of course it was—and I forgot my coat. Fantastic. That wasn’t how Wednesdays go. It was how Mondays go.

'Or is Wednesday the new Monday?'

I tucked my phone into my bra and ready the key fob between my fingers. I pressed the button as soon as I opened the door and ran to my car. I yanked the door open and slid in.

Pushing my hair from my face, I tore out of the parking lot.

I could just tell that this shift was going to be complete shit.

“Did Ivan tell you that Mish is staying with him for a month?”

I paused and looked at Dayton. “No.”

“Oh.” She sucked in her bottom lip. “Then this is awkward. I thought you knew.”

“No. I wonder why he didn’t say anything.”

“He fucked you before he told you his name. And you’re surprised he hasn’t told you that his sister is staying with him?”

“I… No.” I took my cup of coffee from the counter and sat down. She took the seat opposite me and I continued. “When is she coming?”

“Three days from now. She said she needs to get away while her divorce is going through.”

“Great. So, essentially, seven days after officially starting to date, I’m meeting the family.”

I didn’t like families. Not that I have anything against them, per se. In fact, I'm sure his sister is lovely. I just didn’t like them. Families are…serious. When you meet them, you get all…well, serious.

Sure, I was thinking about beginnings with Ivan, but I was not thinking about serious beginnings. Because, really, how serious can a relationship between a sex addict and a love addict be?

“Brenda…” Day said slowly. “You can breathe, you know, sweetie.”

I shook my head. “Nope, nope, and nope.”

“No, you’re not going to meet his sister yet?” Day raised her eyebrows with an amused twist of her lips.

“Nope. I’m not going to. I’m going to hide for the next three weeks, because then it’ll be, like, a month and a totally acceptable duration of a relationship for that stuff.”