Against The Wall

Published by Julie Prestsater

Copyright 2012 Julie Prestsater

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Table of Contents

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Epilogue

Dear Readers

Mel & Tyler

About the Author

Acknowledgments

Credits

Dedication

This one is for all my teacher friends. To ... when the bell rings ... and all the good times that follow.

Chapter One

Love Quarrel Stirs Violence among High School Teachers. I can just picture the headlines if I were to lose control and hit that hussy square in the jaw.

But there she goes looking all superior, and I feel the urge to rip out her dark brown extensions and shove them straight down her throat. As tempting as it may be, I know for the sake of my career, I can’t just haul off and knock someone out—and especially not over a guy. What kind of example would I be setting in a hallway full of hormonal adolescent students? So I guess I can understand why dating someone at work is not encouraged, especially when I want to punch that man-stealing whore. If she wasn’t such a floozy, maybe I could move on. Maybe I wouldn’t want him back so badly if he had left me for someone less sleazy. Not this waif in 6-inch stilettos, acrylic nails, smothered in every possible product from the MAC counter. But this is who—or what—he chose. And yes, I still want him so bad it hurts.

A group of chatty kids snap me out of my frenzy.

“Check her out. I’d like to tap that ass,” a squirrely freshman boy says, raising eyebrows at the previously mentioned man-stealing whore, my colleague—a science teacher—walking down the hall as if it were an America’s Next Top Model runway. If she was in my class, I’d send her out for dress code violations on a daily basis. There’s no doubt she heard him too, and liked it. If only I was a student again, I’d be tempted to stick glue in her body lotion during gym. That would wipe the smile off her face.

“I know right, if she were homework, I’d do her every night,” his friend replies. They slap hands wildly in agreement. Great. Not only do half the male teachers here want her, the students are even drooling over this hoochie.

“Gross,” one of the girls in the huddle says, smacking Boy #2 in the chest.

Another young lady chimes in, “Dude, she’s a teacher. That’s so wrong.”

“So,” Boy #1 retorts. “I’m sure teachers like to get it on.” He pumps his hips back and forth, reminding me of Peewee from the old Porky’s movies. Sucking back the urge to gag, I have to stop myself from going over to them and smacking him in the back of the head. Little pervert.

“Eww. They’re so old. That’s just nasty on so many levels.” Girl #2 shudders at the thought. Now, I want to smack her.

“Yeah, it’s like admitting our parents have sex. There’s no way teachers do it,” Girl #1 adds. Okay, I’m about to do a whole heck of a lot of smacking. These children are going to need ice packs when I’m done with them for all their stupid talk. We’re teachers, not nuns and priests. No vow of celibacy here.

“Thanks,” he pauses, staring her down. “You totally killed it.” Boy #2 stalks off into class. The others follow, snickering.

Brats!

The bell rings. A few stragglers rush through the door just as I’m about to close it, and I have the overwhelming desire to change my welcome back spiel.

Good morning losers! Just an FYI. Teachers do have sex. Just like we eat, shit, and sleep every day. We also have to go to the grocery store so don’t be in shock when you see me at Albertson’s and I have a box of Tampax in my cart. I also have to buy clothes, so you might also see me at the mall and if you even make a face when I hit the dressing room with a year’s supply of Spanx, I may be forced to mark your papers with a big fat bleeding F for the rest of the year. So, yes, teachers have sex! And it’s not gross and it’s not like your parents doing it either. But for crying out loud, gentlemen, don’t go blind fantasizing about that skank you saw in the hall. She doesn’t have sex. She just fucks—excuse my language.

Damn it. Listening to student chatter before class has totally thrown me for a loop. I’m totally off my first-day-of-school game. My students are looking up at me like little puppies wanting table food, and I don’t have any scraps. I can’t think of shit to say.

The ridiculous conversation between a bunch of sex-crazed teenagers should really have little effect on me. I wouldn’t be bothered if those skinny little boys were talking about anyone else. But no-ooo, they’re poppin’ chubs over Ms. McGallian. And, while teachers do have sex, and Ms. McGallian is having plenty, I for one, am not. I’m not even fucking for Christ’s sake. Oh shit, I just said Christ and fuck in the same sentence. Scratch that. I just said shit, Christ, and fuck in the same sentence. Twice.

One more thing … we fucking cuss too, bitches.

While I wait for my Lean Cuisine to cool down enough to not cause first degree burns in my mouth, I notice my lunch isn’t the only thing sizzling. The anger boils in my gut, and I wish it wasn’t. I honestly wish I didn’t care so much.

“Come on, Shel. It’s the first day back and you’re already showing your fangs. You look like you wanna rip off her head, shred her to pieces, and burn her hoochified remains,” my bestie tells me, hand on her hip in disapproval.

Lowering my head at her, I try my hardest to give her the look. “Mel, the Twilight references are getting old. Besides, you’re thirty-two. Can you please move beyond YA books and fantasize about guys who are legal?” I ask my best friend of twenty two years.

“Edward is legal. He’s over a hundred years old.” Melissa—who I’ve called Mel since the fourth grade—tosses her lunch on the table and sits next to me. “And I’m married. I dream about every man I see, or read about. Thank God for fantasies or I’d never get the chance to be manhandled by so many beautiful men.”

Allowing a grin to form, I have to try to stop full blown laughter so I won’t encourage her antics. “Yeah well, you’re a slut in your fantasies.”

She takes a huge bite of her sandwich and says, with grape jelly oozing out the side of her mouth, “I guess that makes me a fantastic slut.” She winks at me and I can’t help but laugh. She always manages to make me feel better. “Oh shit, here we go, Shel. Be cool.”

“What?” I ask, watching Mel tense up and take a deep breath.

“He’s here.”

He’s here?

And by he, she means my ex-boyfriend. My ex-loveofmylife. My ex-almostthefatherofmychildren. My ex-happilyeverafter. My ex-fiancé. My ex who left me for that Kim Kardashian butt double, Ms. McGallian. He’d argue he didn’t leave me for the curvy brunette with the million dollar highlights, big boobs, and scary acrylic nails. Of course he didn’t. I mean, they started dating less than a month after he called it quits. Yet, I’m supposed to believe she had nothing to do with it. She’s had practically every single man, a few of them married, on this damn campus and she couldn’t let my guy escape her claws. No. She dug right in and he didn’t even try to run from little Ms. Fake-Everything-From-Head-To-Toe.

I don’t see him, but I’m sure he sees Mel’s sneer. She’s practically stabbing a dagger through his chest with her eyes. Maybe she could will his pecker to fall off. That seems like a fair punishment for dumping my ass after ten plus years.

But, that was last year. Summer vacation should’ve been enough time for me to lick my wounds and get over the bastard, but one look at him and my heart turns to mush all over again. His thick black hair is getting long and wavy, and I want to go over there and grab a handful of it. He must have gone shopping. I’ve never seen that shirt before. It actually has bling on it. She probably bought it for him. The Chase I know would never wear a shirt with wings on it. But whatever. The Chase I know would have never dumped the woman he was engaged to either.

“Stop with the eyes already,” Mel whispers, kicking me under the table.

“Ow. What the hell?”

She glares down at me, big Betty Boop brown eyes, with unnaturally long lashes, bulging from their sockets. Her eyes are the only thing big about my best friend. She’s this petite little thing; barely five feet tall, having stopped growing in the sixth grade. “Don’t even look at him with those sad, pathetic eyes. It’s been four months. Don’t let him see you like this. Don’t let her.” Too bad her mouth isn’t small and gentle like her frame. Her brash sassy talk more than makes up for her elfin size.

I can’t help glancing over at their table again. My eyes meet the tramp’s and I’m certain I see a smirk on her face. Give me five seconds alone with this bitch. She’ll be declawed in three, and with the other two, I’ll punch her in each tit just for fun. I know I shouldn’t take it all out on her, but Mel has Chase taken care of. Right about now, his balls are being hacked off with an ax in her mind.

Four months is clearly not long enough to get over someone you’ve been with half your life, I want to tell Mel. But I don’t. My shin still stings from her swift kick and rubbing it like crazy is keeping me from looking in the happy couple’s direction, again. I must look like an idiot massaging up and down my leg, but it beats the alternative. Repeatedly seeing Ms. McGallian and my ex together will make this first day of school the worst in my career. Although, I’m pretty sure this entire year is going to kill me.

I may need to rethink my profession. Or maybe consider a transfer, at the very least. When people break up and go their separate ways, the dumpee is bound to get over the dumper after days and days apart. There’s just one huge problem here: the dumpee and the dumper will be seeing each other five days a week, along with the ho bag who is now shacking up with the dumper. Now, the dumpee is feeling even dumpier.

“I’m gonna start eating in my classroom.” It seems impossible to handle another day like this one, where I have to concentrate on not letting my eyes wander.

Mel shoots me another irritated look. “Don’t you dare. You are not going to let them force you to hide out in your room all year. They should be the ones who hide in shame. But that bitch wants to rub it in your face.” She’s right. She always is. I shouldn’t let her get to me.

“FYI … if I can hear this conversation on the other side of the room, so can they,” a voice whispers in my ear. I look up and I’m eye to eye with Matty. He gives me a sympathetic look, squeezes my shoulder, and walks away.

“Dang, that guy wants you so bad,” Mel says quietly, fluttering her brows at me.

“Mr. Fuller is a good friend. It’s not like that,” I remind her.

“Well as I’ve heard on many Lifetime Movie Originals, ‘the best way to get over a man is to get under another one’. I doubt Matt Fuller will mind being on top if you know what I mean.”

“You’re scandalous.”

Get under another one? Is she crazy? I guess if I ever did manage to get under another man, Matty would be high on my list of choices, if only we didn’t work together. Whose list wouldn’t he be on? The man is delicious with his bright blue eyes that twinkle every time he smiles, and his well-built physique and bronze skin. Every inch of his six-foot tall body is beautiful, inside and out. If I had to choose between him and Chase based solely on looks, Matty would beat him every day of the week. Chase is great looking and uber sexy. Women check Chase out all the time. But Matty, he’s absolutely gorgeous and there’s not an arrogant cell in his entire body. Now, there’s the major difference between the two men.

And one more thing while I’m thinking about over and under, top and bottom.

If and when I decide to “get over” my sexy, cheating ex, I will most definitely be on top.

Weeks later, I’m eating my Trader Joe’s Pasadena Salad in my classroom. Alone. Mel refuses to eat with me. She’s so damn stubborn. I know she wants to, but she keeps telling me, “It’s the principality.” Principality—that’s not even a word. Not in the way she’s using it. And she’s an English teacher. Go figure.

The door opens slowly as I stuff my mouth with a fork full of lettuce, almonds, and chicken. I almost choke when I see who it is. In fact, I knew who it was the moment I caught a whiff of the air wafting in with him. Chase has been wearing Eternity for Men since we were in high school. I’m surprised Ms. Blingyshirts hasn’t changed his scent too. At any rate, his timing couldn’t be worse. My mouth is overflowing and I can barely chew. Time plays in slow motion as he makes his way to my desk. How anyone can look so sexy just merely walking is beyond me. There are no words to describe it. I blink hard and fast to snap myself out of his trance. Spitting back a wad of half-chewed salad in its container, I sneer, “What the hell do you want?”

Like my strategy? In an effort to not break down and cry hysterically every time I’m alone with this asshole, I have to be mean. I can’t bring myself to be civil because every time I do, I end up asking him what went wrong and how I can fix it. As if I’m the one who needs fixing. Okay, maybe the fact that my innards are blubbering fools right now is evidence of that, but I can’t let him get to me. So instead, I just act like a bitch. It’s the only way to survive this stupid ass break-up.

I’m snarling at him, yet he smiles.

If I didn’t have my heels dug in the floor, I’d slide off my seat leaving snail trails behind. This man can make me ache down there with just an effing smile. It’s a wonder how he can still do that with our long history together. For most people, doesn’t that sort of thing fizzle out after a few years?

He doesn’t say anything right away, so I utter again, “Well. What is it?”

He ignores my question and says as nonchalant as can be, “Hey, hun, how you been?”

Hun? Really? Un-frickin’-believable.

Raising my right brow, I give him the most disapproving look I can muster. “Just great, Dear,” I sneer with a snap of my neck.

“I haven’t seen you during lunch in a while,” his voice softens.

“It’s too crowded in the staff lounge.” Translation: I don’t want to see you and your nasty ass girlfriend.

“Aw, come on. You should come down.” Translation: making you feel like shit is so much more fun in public.

“I’ve got a lot of grading to do.” Looking down at my desk, I notice just one small stack of papers. Shit. That’s what I get for having nothing better to do than grade papers night after night.

He sits on my nearly empty desk. “Well, I hear everybody misses you.” He plumps out his bottom lip in a pout. I think my heart just stopped. Is he trying to kill me? Could he be prosecuted for murder? Cause of death: broken heart. Murder weapon: words laced with bullshit. It’s me who should be thrown in jail for eating up every one of those words. But, I can’t help myself.

Okay, Shel, relax. Keep it cool. Back to bitch mode.

I summon the courage to shout at him, “Shut the hell up and get the fuck out of my room. And don’t come back unless it’s about work. Even then, don’t bother. Just send me an email.”

“Shel Belle, don’t be that way. I still wanna be friends.” Oh no he didn’t just pull out the friends card. He needs to shove that crap back from wherever he yanked it from. He’s so full of shit, no wonder his skin is so tan.

“Friends, my ass. We’ve been friends since the second grade, since I kissed you on the cheek on Space Mountain when you were so scared you wanted to cry. I should have just let you piss your pants and never talked to you again and I wouldn’t be in this mess.” I glare at him with as much pissiness as I can exude. “Fuck friends. I have enough friends. I don’t need any more. And I sure as hell don’t need you. So get to steppin’, Chase.” Tears threaten to bubble over the edge of my eyelids but I will them back. I swear to God, if I cry in his presence, I’ll kick my own ass.

Chase’s chocolate brown eyes glare at me, his nose flares, and I can see the muscles in his jaw twitch, but I don’t say another word and my tears don’t fall. But his do. He gets up and walks out my door. Before it slams, my heart fails me and tears start streaming down my heated face like a flash flood.

He has no right getting teary-eyed on me. He did this. I didn’t break up with him. He can’t toss me aside, put me in the junk drawer and come find me when he needs me.

I can't still be his friend. It doesn't work like that. How can we possibly be buddies? Am I supposed to chat with him about the good old days, or go out to dinner with him and what’s her face? I don’t know how we can go from long-term relationship to friends and everything be just peachy. That’s bullshit.

The bell rings. Son of a mother lover. I grab for the box of tissues near my computer and blot my already puffy eyes. There’s no way I can camouflage this. I just hope my class doesn’t say anything. I’ll probably cry more.

“Ms. Gelson, are you okay?” Meg, my student aide, asks.

Trying to muffle my sniffling noises, I force myself to respond. “Oh, I’m fine honey. Nothing some chocolate and a little makeup can’t fix.” I open the bottom drawer to my desk to reveal a rather large bag of dark Dove chocolates. Too bad I can’t rig a keg of beer in my desk. Or maybe squeeze a twelve pack in my mini-fridge. I wish. For some reason, I don’t think chocolate is going to cure this one.

“I saw Mr. Marino leaving and he looked like crap. Don’t worry. It’s not gonna last, ya know. My best friend, Keesha, is his aide this year and she says she's rallying for you. She wants him to dump that big assed beeyotch soon. She's so fake with her caked on makeup and hooker heels. She reminds me of my ex-best friend. You have class, something Ms. McG doesn't. Marino will figure it out.” I look at her all wide-eyed, and she says, “Oh, sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I forget you’re my teacher.”

I can remember comforting her when she was a freshman and found out her best friend was doing the deed with her boyfriend. Can you imagine having to deal with that level of drama when you're fourteen? I wish I could tell her it gets better. But what I want to do is hug her, and say thank you. I knew there was a reason I liked her. I should buy her lunch.

My students fill their desks and immediately get started on the bell-ringer—the assignment I posted on the board. I sense the whispers, but I don’t look up. I take attendance, all the while thinking about Chase. I wonder if Ms. McGallian knows about his little lunch time visit. I doubt she’s included in the masses of people who miss me at lunch. If she doesn’t know he stopped by, she will by the end of the period. If there’s anything I know about my school and my students, it’s information spreads like The Plague. Right now, Meg is on her cell texting, and I’d bet a hundred bucks she’s telling her friends. I wish I could see Ms. Fiancé-Stealer’s face when she finds out her man left my room all weepy.

Let the games begin, bitches!

Chapter Two

Mel and I are part of a handful of people who arrive to our staff meetings early. Like bad students, we sit in the back of the room where we have a clear view of everyone as they walk in. This comes to our advantage when the bobbles—our bosses who mumble and nod away like bobble heads—start doing their thing, chattering away even though less than half the staff is actually listening. Mel’s a natural born shit talker and this is an optimal environment for endless sources of material.

We’re definitely not the only ones being rude though. Teachers truly make the worst students. Talking, texting, cracking jokes. All behaviors I’d never accept from my own students, yet I break the same rules during these meetings. It’s not like there are any consequences though. As if the dean is going to come by and confiscate my phone. I might just die laughing if she ever did.

“Ooo. Look at him,” Mel says, sitting at the edge of her seat. “I think he’s the new history teacher. His ass looks nice in those fitted slacks. Umm. I just wanna bite it,” she clacks her teeth together and growls.

“No way. I’m not gonna hook up with anyone from work. I already told you. It’s bad enough having one ex here. I don’t need a collection of them.” I take a swig of my 7-Eleven coffee. “He’s probably gay though. His pants are way too tight. Or maybe metrosexual. Do people still say that?” He is hot though. Very clean-cut and well dressed. He probably has a standing appointment with his barber to get his hair trimmed every week to keep crisp lines like those. I wouldn’t doubt he uses expensive gel too, and has more beauty products than me. Yes, I assume all this from the high quality of pressed creases in his dress pants, and the flawless hair line around a perfectly messy faux hawk.

“I haven’t heard that term in a while. Metrosexual is just closet gay anyway.” Mel bites into her bagel, and says through a mouthful of dough, “What about him? He is one fine specimen.”

I look to where she gestured in the front row. Uh-huh. He is fine. How did we get so lucky to be surrounded by good looking men? If things hadn’t gone so terribly wrong with Chase, I’m thinking this would be a promising profession to be in to land a hot guy.

But this one is taken. “He’s married,” I remind her.

“So. As if it matters to anyone else at work.” True. With all the hook-ups, set-ups, and infidelity on campus, the stories these walls could tell would make for fascinating reality TV. The Real Teachers of Carver High. Can you imagine? That would be stinking awesome. I’d actually watch reality TV for once. A bunch of teachers sitting around throwing back glasses of beer and wine, talking crap about their students who pissed them off today, or about what Johnny’s mom was wearing to the parent conference. Haha. It would be a blast.

“Well it matters to me,” I tell her. “I’m no home wrecker.”

“Maybe I’ll jump on him.”

“You’re not jumping on anyone.”

“I know,” she says through another mouthful of bagel, cream cheese smeared across part of her lip.

“Hey, ladies,” Matty says. “Thanks for saving me a seat.” He squeezes by Mel, and then plops himself next to me. His knees almost hit the chair in front of us. These rows aren’t far enough apart for people his size. I’m sure he always has this problem. Me? Not so much. Sometimes my feet don’t reach the floor at the movies, depending on what theater we go to. I never have to worry about my knees hitting the seat in front of me.

“Of course we did,” Mel says, winking at me. I dig my elbow in her side.

I don’t say anything, but his scent makes me smile. Very earthy, like he just took a shower in the woods using man soap. I love that smell. If I wasn’t a girl, I’d use it myself.

“Hey, Matt, did you bring lunch today?” Mel asks him, breaking the silence.

“Nah, gotta hit the snack bar. Why?”

“Perfect,” she squeals. “Shels brought me lunch today, but I brought leftovers and I have a parent conference anyway so I don’t want the food to go to waste. Why don’t you have lunch with her? Just go to her room right when the bell rings, okay.” Wow. She said that all in one breath. Does she need an oxygen mask now?

Matty nudges me in the arm. “Does that work for you, Shel?”

Well, what am I going to say? No. Don’t come. I don’t want to share with you. Of course it’s fine. He’s my friend and it’s been a long time since we’ve had a good chat. “Duh. It’s nothing big though. Don’t expect a gourmet meal or anything,” I murmur trying to make light of our pending meal.

“I’ve been eating your cookin’ for five years. I know better than to expect gourmet.” He brushes his shoulder against mine, and I slap his knee.

Mel pushes my elbow off the arm rest and I glance her way. She winks again and I read her lips, Foreplay. Rolling my eyes at her, I face forward and fake paying attention to the meeting.

My cell buzzes and I glance at the text.

Keep it up and ull b touchng his 3rd leg soon ;)

Trying to shield my phone, I feel like the words are flashing like a neon sign over my head. I seriously hope Matty can’t see my screen. Thinking about her remark, I laugh inside. She's too funny.

Guess we’re done trying to find my next bf in the crowd, I text her back.

Don’t need 2. He’s sittin rite next 2 u.

Going out with Matty would be so easy. Perfect actually. Until I get sick of him or he gets sick of me and then we’re doomed. I’ll be right back where I started but without one of my closest friends. Sure, I know he likes me. Maybe. It’s probably one of those things when you like someone just because you can’t have them, and when you finally get them, it sucks. The novelty wears off and neither person can run away fast enough. I don’t want that to happen. Matty means way too much to me to take the risk. I’d rather he be a friend forever than a quick roll in the hay for however long I can keep him interested.

Stealing a glance at him, I notice he didn’t shave this morning. The golden brown stubble against his bronze skin catches the artificial lighting in here and it’s like it’s saying hello to me. Like, Hey I wanna rub this five o’clock shadow all over you. Wow. A twinge hits me between my thighs. Damn, where did those prickles darting all over my body come from? It’s like that with just a glimpse of facial hair. It’s a good thing I didn’t gaze into his gorgeous eyes. Crystal blue and I’m talking ocean in Hawaii you can see right through to the sand, blue. He has the kind of eyes that speak to you. Just one look at them and you can always tell what kind of mood he’s in, which is usually a good one. This man is perpetually happy. Always smiling, showing the little creases around the corners of his eyes.

“Shels,” a voice is calling me. “Shelly. Hello,” Matty says, putting his hand on top of mine. My girl parts contract with the touch of his warm palm on the back of my hand. “We still good for lunch?”

I shake my head clear and realize everyone is getting up to leave. “Uh. Yeah. Sure.”

“You want me to get us some drinks?” his baby blues question me.

I glance down and his hand remains resting on mine. He notices too, and pulls away quickly like he touched something that burned his skin. “No, that’s okay. I have some.”

He stands up and gestures to me to do the same. Mel is already waiting by the door. As we reach her, Matty puts his hand on my lower back and I gaze up at him. “I’ll see you at lunch,” he says, and I can’t keep my eyes off his mouth. It’s like I hear the words as his lips move in slow mo. He grins at me, one corner of his mouth turning upward. My legs quiver as he walks away, and begins talking to another teacher. Uh oh. I think I’m in trouble.

Mel is watching me with a ridiculously giddy smile spread across her face.

“It’s happening,” she sings.

“I hate you,” I tell her and we walk to our classrooms in silence.

The first four periods leading up to lunch seem like eons passing. Mountain ranges and miles of new ocean floor were probably created in the same amount of time it took for the lunch bell to ring. The Grapes of Wrath could’ve been written during these hours of maddening impatience. I’ve literally popped about two tins of Altoids trying to make sure my breath is fresh for my lunch time rendezvous. I know I’m making more out of this than it is. It’s just a casual lunch between two friends who just happen to work together. Nothing is happening. Matty isn’t interested in me like that. Well, maybe he is but he’d never act on it. He knows I’m damaged goods, and I’m not completely over Chase. And how many times have I said I don’t want to date anyone at work? How many? Like five thousand. So why am I freaking out over lunch? Relax, Shel. It’s going to be just fine. Just breathe.

I inhale and exhale a large gasp of air just as Matty walks in the door. Thankfully, all my last minute stragglers have packed up their stuff and gone before he arrives. I can just picture the rumors spreading all over school. Ms. Gelson and Mr. Fuller were all hugged up during lunch. And that’s just the start of it. By the end of the day, I’d most likely be pregnant with twins and have some sort of fictitious sexually transmitted disease.

But he’s here now, and we’re alone. No need to worry about the buzz just yet.

As he steps toward me, smiling, I absorb his presence. His characteristic Levi jeans sit low on his waist, and if he were to turn around and model for me, I could stare at his perfectly round ass filling out his pants. A short-sleeved button-up shirt hugs his shoulders just enough to show off his muscles but not so much that he looks like he's wearing his little brother’s clothes. I don’t know what brand it is, but it’s stylish. He looks quite appetizing.

It strikes me as odd that I’m checking him out in such a way. Why am I noticing these things about him now? In a way that makes my stomach flip-flop and my heart race. Just like I thought it was weird when I took note of his scent earlier. He’s always looked this good. He’s not doing anything different. So why now do I want to tear off his clothes and have my way with him on my desk?

“Hey, I brought dessert.” He holds up two Rice Krispie Treats from the student store.

I smile my big smile, hoping he can’t tell I was just violating him in my thoughts. “Yummy. Maybe we should do dessert first.” And I’m not talking about the Rice Krispies either. Oh, girl, you need to stop, I tell myself.

“You got quite the spread going on here.” Chicken fajitas, rice, beans, fresh guacamole, salsa, chips, and tortillas. If this was a date, I’m pretty sure Matty would want to marry me after this feast. “Where did you pick this up?” Okay, so he knows me too well to believe I cooked all this.

“You suck! Don’t believe I cooked, huh?” I tease him.

He takes a plate and starts making himself some tacos. “Not a chance.” He chuckles.

“Okay, you got me. That new Mexican restaurant by the mall. Good stuff. Dig in.”

We make small talk in between bites of deliciousness.

We reminisce about a conference we had to go to last year in Minnesota of all places. In the state of a million lakes, we couldn't find anything to do but go to the Mall of America every day. He convinced me to go on all the rides at the amusement park in the center of the mall. Mel refused to join in, instead she took pictures of us on each ride making wacky faces, most of which looked like I was ready to barf.

I glance at him, I smile. He looks at me, and smiles.

Feels like the best twenty minutes of my life.

“The bell’s about to ring,” he says, standing and beginning to clear our plates.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll get it. My kids are working on a quiz as soon as the bell rings. You should get going.”

“Well, thank you, Shel. “ He steps toward me. “Next time, it’s on me. But dinner.” I look up at him, trying not to study his mouth but I can’t help it. He licks his lips and the moisture left behind makes me want to lap it up with my tongue. He bends down getting closer, and the scent of his subtle cologne, combined with the spices of our meal, fills my senses and I’m whirling. Matty gently kisses my left cheek and his lips linger for a split second while he squeezes my hand. “Think of me when you have your dessert,” he says as he turns away and walks out of my classroom, leaving me stunned and speechless.

It’s not until after school when I have time to relax and enjoy my marshmallow treat. Leaning back in my chair, I put my feet up on my desk and tear open the blue foil wrapper. Instantly, I can feel Matty’s lips on my cheek along with his warm breath. Think of me, he had said. It worked. I’m thinking of him alright. I feel like his scent has lingered in my room and if I could just bottle it up and take it home with me, I’d have some night. Smiling, I take a small nibble out of the corner of my dessert imagining what it would be like to sprinkle his throat with gentle pecks from my lips. The taste is sweet in my mouth and my girl parts tighten. Next, a small bite and as I chew I think about kissing his chest. Matty’s always looked amazing without a shirt on, chiseled pecs and hairless until you reach the little happy trail leading down into the place I’ve never been before, but suddenly want to be. Even though I was with Chase, I never wasted an opportunity to check Matty out at any pool parties for work. I find myself licking my fingers at the thought. If only he knew what he could do to me without even being in the room.

“Must be some Rice Krispie treat. Are you sure there isn’t something other than marshmallow whip in there?” Bobbling the treat in my hands, I nearly fall out of my seat as I whip my feet off my desk and try to sit up. “I’ve never wanted to be a piece of puffed rice so much before in my whole life.”

“Oh shit, Chase. Why the hell do you say crap like that?” Chomping on the last piece, I chew like a dog, irritated he ruined my moment of bliss.

“Because I mean it, Shel Belle. In all our years together, I don’t think you ever looked like that when you thought about me.” He walks over and stands in front of me, so I’m eye level with his zipper and my dear old friend who I haven’t seen in quite some time. The idea is enough to make me forget about Matty, and images of Chase’s ass in my hands as I bring him into my mouth take hold of me.

Chase runs his hand through my hair and clutches the back of my neck. I stare up into his mocha eyes and they call to me. He misses me. He really does. My throat goes dry, but I have to say something. I can’t just sit here with his hand wrapped up in my hair and my mind inside his pants. “Chase, what are you doing here?” I whimper. I consider his flirtatious words again and my heart skips.

“I need you, Shel Belle. I screwed up. I want you back.”

How long have I waited to hear those words?

Standing up to wrap my arms around his waist, I allow myself to rest my head in the place where it fits perfectly just below his chin. He drapes his arms around me and holds me tight. I feel like the wind has been knocked out of me and I tell myself to breathe. Slowly, I inhale through my nose and try to soak up everything that’s happening so I’ll never forget it.

Something’s off though. His touch feels the same. His body feels the same in my arms. We still mesh together like two parts of a whole. Even with all these things that seem so familiar, something is definitely wrong.

I tilt my head up and he bends down to nuzzle my neck. I brush my nose against his cool skin and inhale the man who has been mine for years. And that’s when I figure it out. His cologne. It’s different. It’s still the same sweet smell of Eternity, but mixed with another odor. A hint of jasmine. The scent I have pressed against my lips right now isn’t Chase’s. It’s her perfume. Or maybe her body lotion. Her shampoo, or body wash. A fragrance I never want to smell again. Not while the man I still love is telling me he wants me back.

I muster up all the strength I have to push him away so I can look into his eyes for answers. For the truth.

“Chase?”

He looks down at me, rests his arms on my shoulders, and kisses the top of my head. I wish I could just let this go and enjoy the moment, but I can’t.

“Chase?” I mutter.

“Yeah, hun. What is it?”

My throat tightens, but I ask anyway. “What about Summer?” Saying Ms. McGallian’s first name makes her more than just a teacher I see in the halls on a daily basis. More than just the person I’ve seen snickering at me during lunch. Saying her name makes her a real woman. The woman who my fiancé left me for.

“What about her?” His body goes rigid.

“Well, you said you wanted me back. It has to mean you guys aren’t together anymore, right?” The guilty expression in his eyes breaks what's left of my bleeding heart all over again. I’m such a fucking idiot.

“Well … ” he hovers on the word. Instantly, I back away from him.

“Well, what, Chase?” I want to kick my ass for asking. Why can’t I summon my bitch façade right now? My evil twin?

“I can’t break up with Summer, Shel. “

“Well then explain to me how we can get back together.” I snarl at him. I need Duct tape. A gag. Something to keep me from making myself look even more pitiful. Why do I let him do this to me?

He raises his hands and rubs them up and down my arms. “Well, I was just thinking maybe … ”

I see the conniving look in his eyes and I know exactly what he is thinking.

Okay, I may as well turn green and tear off my clothes. This bitch is back. I’m not taking anymore shit from this fucker.

“Maybe what? That we can just hook up and I can be the other woman this time.”

“Well, yeah. I mean, no. I don’t know. I just came in here to see how your lunch date went. It’s all over school you and Fuller are fucking. And then I saw you violating that Rice Krispie and I swear, I got hard just watching you. I need you. He needs you,” he says, pulling me into his erection.

He needs me? I don't know what the hell for. If he enjoyed having sex with me as much as I did with him, wouldn’t we still be together? He makes my cooch hotter with just the anticipation of sex more than the act itself. Never again will I allow this poor excuse for a man to make me twitch down there. So fuck what he needs.

Fighting the urge to knee him in the balls, I back away from him once more. He has to be kidding me. Glaring at him, I search for the words to tell him he’s a bastard and I never want to see him again. He’s a total ass and I can’t believe I stayed with him as long as I did. I should be grateful he finally showed his true colors and ditched me before the wedding. Yet, I still don’t feel so lucky.

This jackass just continues to break my heart over and over again. Just when I think I can move on, he sweeps in and screws that up too.

I take a deep breath, look straight into his eyes, and dig my pointer finger into his chest.

“Chase, I need you to understand something. You need to walk out that door and not come back in here or I’ll file a grievance against you for sexual harassment. Get the fuck out and …Leave. Me. The. Hell. Alone.”

“Shel Belle,” he mutters, taking my hand from his chest.

“I mean it, Chase.” I shout, trembling from head to toe.

“But ... ” he begins to protest for a second time.

“She said ‘get out’,” Matty’s voice booms. I’m happy for anyone to save me from this mess, or from myself. But not Matty. Instantly, I wonder how long he’s been standing there. I wonder how much he’s seen or heard.

Chase whips around. His face hardens when he sees Matty. “Fuller, this has nothing to do with you.” He takes a step forward, almost pushing me aside.

Matty slowly walks toward us. “Uh maybe not, but if Shelly wants you gone, you better get out before I call security.”

Chase lets out a chuckle. “You fucking pansy. Can’t handle me yourself, so you have to call for back up,” he says, closing the gap between the two of them.

Oh shit.

“I can handle you just fine but we’re at work, and I’m trying my hardest to be professional,” Matty responds.

Rushing to jump between them before they hit chests, I plant my feet in front of Chase and plead with him, “Just go, Chase. Just go.” For the first time, I notice their difference in height. Matty is much taller than Chase, and outweighs him as well. Matty is muscular, Chase is fit but not chiseled.

“You’ve been sniffing around her ass for I don’t know how long, Fuller. Shel’s finally single and you just couldn’t wait to start screwing her, huh. It won’t last though. She still loves me. She always will. But if you don’t mind tasting me every time you’re with her, be my guest.” Matty lunges at him and Chase quickly steps around me and out of his way. “Now now, Mr. Fuller, don’t forget to be professional,” he says before leaving the room. I should have let Matty pummel him.

“Holy shit! That son of a bitch!” I yell.

Matty takes me in his arms and runs his hands up and down my back. “Shhh! There are still kids out there.”

“When in the hell did Chase turn into such an asshole?” I ask. It’s like he has multiple personalities or something. When he came in, he was totally smooth and flirty, but then he morphed into a total dickhead. I can’t believe he just said that too. He can’t possibly think Matty and I are sleeping together. The rumor mill must be on heightened alert or something, and obviously, totally inaccurate.

Matty chuckles. “He’s always been an asshole.”

I step back from him. “Really? He was always great, until Summer came along.”

“Love is blind,” he says, chuckling again.

“I guess,” I tell him. Trying to make light of things, I add, “Hey, so according to C-High’s very own gossip channel, I hear we’re fucking each other’s brains out.”

“Cool. Are you enjoying it as much as I am?” he jokes.

“Oh, so much more,” I tease. “You’d think people would have something better to do than make shit up.”

“Yeah, but this is high school. A juicy piece of dirt is so much better than the truth.”

I consider this. “Yeah, I guess super hot sex with a good looking guy is better than watching Lifetime movies alone in your sweats.” Did I just admit I watch movies in sweats all night? Aloud? I must look like a sad excuse for a woman.

“So you think I’m good looking?” His eyes crinkle in the corners. Very cute.

“Oh. Sure. Of course you are. But I was just making a generalization. Not necessarily talking about us and hot sex or something.” Boy, it’s getting hot in here, and the air conditioning is running full blast in my classroom.

“Well Chase did mention us screwing, but I like the way you make it sound so much better.” He flashes his sexy smile at me and his blue eyes pierce through me like a spark of electricity.

“Alrighty then,” I say, fanning myself.

“Am I making you blush?” he asks, running his fingers through his hair.

“Probably,” I concede. “Anyway, I’m sorry you had to deal with Chase.” Looking at the floor trying to avoid eye contact, I feel the need to move the conversation past the sexy talk.

“No worries, Shel. I’m glad I showed up when I did. I was just coming by to see if you wanted to have dessert together.” He holds up his little blue package.

“Ahh. I was enjoying it when the bastard came in. Sorry.”

“I can share this one with you.” Earlier, I would have taken him up on the offer. It wasn’t long ago when I was practically having a wet dream at my desk at the thought of Matty. And it also wasn’t long ago that I was looking up into Chase’s eyes from zipper level before he so rudely asked me to be his side dish fuck buddy.

I pat Matty on the arm and tell him, “You go ahead and have that one for yourself. I have to get going.” I turn to go back to my desk, but Matty catches my hand to stop me.

“Shel, don’t let him ruin this. We had a great time today at lunch, right?” He looks at me for reassurance.

“Right, I really enjoyed it. It’s probably the most fun I’ve had in a long time,” I admit. He deserves to know the truth. I can’t bullshit him.

“I have no doubt you would still be thinking about it if Chase hadn’t come in here, which I’m sure he did only because he heard about us and was jealous.”

“You’re probably right. But…” I pause, trying to find the words. I want to be honest, but I don’t want to be heartless either. “I still have feelings for him, Matty. You made me forget all about him today, and then he came in here and took it all away. He said he wanted me back and I was ready to jump at the chance. You don’t deserve to be treated that way.”

“And neither do you,” he tells me. “He’s going to keep coming back and playing with your mind, as long as you let him. He doesn’t want to see you happy with anyone else, yet he won’t commit to you either. If he just let you go, you could move on and be happy.”

With my head down, I kick around some dirt on the floor and chew on my bottom lip. I know he’s right.

“You can either wait around for him to let you go, or you can move on without his help. It’s up to you. It’s your life you’re letting someone else control,” he says with a shrug.

I really don’t know what to say. He totally has me pegged.

The silence must get to him because he shakes his head, and says, “I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have said anything. I’ll talk to you later.”

Within seconds, Matty is gone too. And within minutes, I wish he wasn’t.

“This is exactly why I don’t want to date anyone from work,” I yell into the phone at Mel.

I hear her dogs barking in the background. She probably just got home and they’re attacking her for attention. “Shel, I’m sorry. Why don’t you come over? Nick is working late again.”

“Sounds good, I’ll be there in a few.” I pause to check my rearview mirror, so I don’t run over any kids. “Hey, do you have beer?”

“Of course.”

Chapter Three

“Talk or beer first?” Mel asks as I walk into her house without knocking. I stopped dealing with those formalities in junior high, when we practically started living at each other’s houses. Not much has changed since then. She’s married now, but we still have plenty of bestie time.

“Beer!” As if there was any doubt.

“That bad, huh?”

“Yes, that bad.” Thinking about Matty, I change my mind. “Well, part of it was good. But still, give me a frickin’ beer.”

I watch as Mel pours me a Hefeweizen—my drink of choice at home—into a chilled pint-sized glass. She slices up some oranges and squeezes a few into my drink before dropping them in. We should’ve been bartenders. Making drinks for people while listening to their problems sounds so much more appealing than having issues of my own.

I guzzle half the beer before putting it down. “Yum. That hit the spot.” I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and settle in at her dining room table.

“I should hope so. If you’re gonna drink like it’s Quarter Beers night, we should hit the store before we get too shitty and can’t drive.” Not a bad idea.

“How many do you have?”

“Twelve pack.”

“Should be good. If I still wanna drink, I can move on to that bitch ass wine of yours.” I hold out my beer to clink glasses with her rather large goblet of sparkling red bubbly. It may as well be a vase.

“Hey, where are the pooches?” I ask her, looking around the kitchen. They’re never too far away from their mama.

“They’re resting in my room. I just bought them a new bed and they love it,” she explains.

I nod, peeling the wrapper of my beer. “So what’s up with Nick? He should pitch a tent and live at the office.”

“Don’t remind me,” she sighs. “If I didn’t have you, I’d be alone all the time. I may as well be single.” How many times have I heard that? But I guess it’s the price you pay for marrying such a successful attorney. I know if I were her, I would be sitting at home all day eating Oreos, reading books, and watching reruns of old soap operas instead of teaching a bunch of high schoolers how to write a complete sentence that actually makes sense. Don’t get me wrong, we love our students and our jobs. It’s just sometimes they can suck the life right out of you. But then again, one small victory, like a simple thank you or a smile that lights up the face of a struggling reader when he finally gets a C on a test, makes all the hard times worth it.

“Oh stop,” I tell her. “I envy you. You have a great husband who takes care of you. You only work because you love it, not because you have to. So he’s not home all the time,” I pause to take a drink. “At least you don’t have him here all day nagging you about cleaning the house, or washing dishes. You get to have a drink with me, and when he gets home, if you feel like it, you can let him ‘manhandle’ you.”

“Yeah, well I guess there are some perks.” She gulps down the last of her wine and pours herself more, while I hit the fridge for another beer. “So tell me what happened that’s so bad you’re getting liquored up and crashing on my sofa tonight.”

“Hmm, where should I start?” I tell her, squeezing some more orange juice in my beer.

“Tell me about lunch. I know it was good because you were giddy as all hell when I talked to you during fifth period.”

I look up and watch the blades of the ceiling fan as I revisit my happy time with Matty. We both laughed hysterically when we talked about shopping for prom two years ago. Mel and I dragged him to the mall with us to find dresses to wear as chaperones. We tried on the sluttiest dresses we could find while Matty sat on a sofa in the middle of the store eating popcorn like he was watching Monday Night Football. He’s always been chill enough to hang out and have fun with the girls.

In those moments with him, I was so at ease and having such a good time.

I wish I would have locked my doors at the end of the day so it wouldn’t have been tainted by Chase and his stupid ass remarks.

But back to my lunch.

“I was giddy, wasn’t I?” I smile. “But I ruined it, Mel. I think I hurt him. See. That’s why I told you I shouldn’t go out with him.”

She shakes her head at me. “Shels, it was just lunch for crying out loud. You aren’t getting married. Just tell me what happened already.”

I try to focus on the good stuff. Matty looked so cute today, and he smelled so damned good. “Okay, so he showed up right after the bell rang. He was adorable. He brought me a Rice frickin’ Krispie treat for dessert.”

Mel turns her head to the side, and bats her lashes at me. “Wow,” she admonishes. “He's in it big time. He's never shared his cherished treats with me before.”

“I know, that's what I was thinking. It was like a declaration or something.” Matty loves his Rice Krispie Treats. It’s like they are military rations and the only thing standing between him and his last breath. He never shares. In fact, I think he swatted my hand one time when I tried to take one. It’s always been a joke between us. I don't touch his treats, and he doesn't touch my beer.

“I know. Totally sweet, huh. We just talked while we ate and we couldn’t stop smiling at each other. It was perfect. And then, just before lunch was over he got up to leave.”

“Uh-huh. And?” Mel flutters her brows at me.

“He kissed me on the cheek. And he told me to think of him when I ate my dessert.”

“And how was it? The kiss?”

I take a quick pull of my beer. “It was on the cheek, Mel.” But I know what she means. I felt it. Even though his full lips barely grazed the side of my face, it couldn’t have been any better. She glares at me. “Okay, it was amazing. Like a damn romance novel. He kind of just lingered there,” I touch my cheek. “He barely made contact. Enough for me to be aware his lips were touching me, but not so much he was pouncing on me. It was frickin’ picture perfect.” Putting my hand to my face again, I wish I could summon that moment back and just bathe in the feeling of it again.

“Oh, if only I could’ve been there. I feel like I need a box of Ding Dongs and a box of tissues just listening to this.”

Instead, she drinks some more wine, and I drink more beer.

“You’re silly. Melly belly!”

“Oh shizzy. Only two beers down and you’re already busting out the Melly bellys.”

“Shizzy, Mel? Just two Cougar Town sized glasses of wine and you’re talking like a rapper.”

“Fo shizzle, my nizzle g-money. Don’t hate the playa, hate the game. You know I’m the ish, yo,” She crosses her arms in full gangster pose. We both laugh until Mel starts snorting.

“Oh girl, you crazy!” We can’t stop laughing. Mel staggers to the fridge to fetch me another beer, and I fill her glass, yet again.

“We need to get new jobs. Listen to us.”

I chuckle. “I know. Gangsta rap lingo. Occupational hazard, I suppose.”

“You’re killing me, Shel. We keep getting off subject. So what happened? How did everything go to shit in a matter of minutes?”

“Oh.” Sighing, I force myself back to reality. “My amazing lunch got shit all over when Chase came to see me after school.”

“Aha. He couldn’t stay away when he heard you were moving on.” Mel nods her head as if she’s all knowing.

“Something like that I guess. I don’t even know how he heard anything. And it’s not like Matty and I haven’t had lunch together before. Even when Chase and I were together, we would meet for lunch. Why would he think this was any different?” Mel hangs her head low in an admission of guilt. “What did you do?”

“Uh. I may have mentioned it to one of the girls in the copy room, when I knew he was listening.” My mouth drops.

“C’mon, Mel, you know how everyone is. By the time he got to my room, he had it in his mind Matty and I are sleeping together.”

“Good,” she says. “Let him chew on that for awhile. It’s not like he’s the only one who can get a piece of ass.”

I laugh inside at the thought. I can’t remember the last time I got any action. When I do, it’s going to be scary. Cob webs and dust bunnies are probably growing down there.

“Well, you shouldn’t have tried to set him off,” I scold her.

“I couldn’t help it, Shel. He walks around all smug without a care in the world. I wanted him to know you moved on and didn’t need him anymore.”

“Well, that kinda backfired. He came to see me and then looked at me with those damn Hershey Kiss eyes of his and I melted like an ice cube in the desert. I’m so weak. He said he wanted me back, and I got all weepy thinking it might be true. So I asked him about Summer and that shithead had the nerve to basically say he just wanted me as a little side action and he wasn’t going to break up with her.”

“What a cock sucker! You should have just grabbed him by his balls and twisted them all up,” she says, with a slur of her words and a fist full of air.

“I wish I would have. I told him to get the fuck out and he wouldn’t leave. That’s when Matty came in.” Taking a moment for a swig of beer, I notice Mel’s big eyes bulging from her head. “Yes, it only gets worse from here.”

“Oh shit,” Mel’s voice gets higher and she rubs her hands together.

“Calm down, sister,” I tell her. “Matty told him to leave too. Then they got all my dick is bigger than your dick. They puffed out their chests at each other. Chase said some shitty things and left, barely dodging Matty who was about to give him a left hook.”

Mel gets us round four. “What did Chase say?” Giving her the run-down of Chase’s nasty words and how Matty took off, Mel’s face is red with anger. “That rat bastard. I hope he gets diarrhea. Stinky ass bubble guts that make Summer want to puke. I hope they both get the squirts.”

A new whirl of laughter ensues as we picture Chase and Summer dealing with bouts of explosive shit.

“Poor Matty. He just left, huh. He’ll be okay. That guy likes you so much, he won’t let Chase get to him,” Mel tries to reassure me. I wish I could believe it. I grab another beer, a bottle of wine, and we head into the family room.

“I don’t know,” I begin. “I don’t really think I should pursue anything with Matty. I know he gets what’s going on with Chase, but I can’t just lead him on, hoping my feelings for my ex will go away. It’s not right. Plus, I can’t very well have grown men about to go to blows in my classroom again. I’m not about to get fired over a fling with another staff member.”

She punches me on the arm before plopping herself down on the couch. “Stop being such a puss. I don’t think it’ll come to that. Just keep your bitch up when it comes to Chase, and forget about him. You can’t let him string you along forever.”

Where have I heard this before? “Did you to talk to Matty? Is there a script for this pep talk? He basically said the same thing earlier.”

She chuckles. “Perfect. Matt and I are alike. You can’t screw me cause we don’t swing like that, but you can do him. What’s better than dating your best friend? It’s perfect.” She is so serious, it’s scary. I love her reasoning.

“Yeah, well … until Matty and I are no longer working at the same place of employment, it’s not gonna work. I’m putting my foot down. If I’m gonna get any anytime soon, I’m gonna have to extend the search off campus.”

“Alright, boss,” Mel says, holding up her glass to me. “I’ll send out the search party soon. We need to get you some action before your va-jay-jay gets moldy.” Nice. I think I like cobwebs better.

I put my beer down and take a look at Mel’s extensive library of DVDs.

“What should we watch? Should we ogle over the bad boys of Entourage, or drool over McDreamy and McSteamy in Grey’s?” I hold up boxed sets of various seasons of each show.

“Ooo. Tough choice. Do I have any Grey’s with Avery? He’s McScorching hot. Have you seen those eyes?”

Yes, I have. “They remind me of Matty’s.”

“Ah shit, Shel, I’m sorry. But c’mon, if he has eyes like Avery’s how can you not hook up with him? You owe it to yourself and Grey’s fans all over the world to start a relationship with a man based on his stunning blue eyes.”

She kills me with her crazy talk. “You’re a dumb ass. Let’s just watch Entourage. One look at Adrian Grenier and all my man troubles will be behind me.”

“One look at him, my legs’ll be twitching, and I’ll be all primed and ready to go when Nick comes home.”

“Aw damn. Remind me to put some ear plugs in.” I toss a pillow at her head and then we both settle in to watch Marky Mark’s funky bunch.

Three episodes in and a few more beers and glasses of wine later, Nick finally gets home and whisks Mel off to bed. I bid them good night and change into some workout pants and a tee I had in my car. I try to fall asleep but I can’t. Thinking about Chase has me wound so tight I could snap.

Was he always such an asshole? I never really thought so until today. Well, and when he called off the engagement. I’ve known him almost my entire life. Living without him is like living without air. I’ve never known anything different. Every single memory I have includes Chase. We started going out when we were in junior high. Then we broke up freshman year. We both wanted to be free in high school. It lasted just a semester before we got back together. Then we broke up again the summer before our junior year. Chase was feeling a bit too tied down and wanted to play tonsil hockey with a bunch of cheerleaders over the summer.

We got back together senior year, only to break up again when we went off to college. It was my turn to sow my oats and get a taste of some college guy ass. Let’s just say I took the opportunity to indulge in a sampler platter of fraternity row. We didn’t get back together until we started our teacher credential program. We ended up at the same school and in the same classes, and spent a lot of time catching up on lost time, in bed. The stretch before grad school was our longest time apart. And even though we had split up so many times throughout our lives, we always remained very close friends.

The last time we reunited, we stayed together for ten years. We got engaged after eight of them. Two years after the engagement, we still hadn’t set a date for the wedding, and Chase backed out. He moved out of our condo, and five seconds later he was playing house with Summer in some over-priced apartment on the other side of town.

Thinking back now, I can see how ridiculous our relationship was. Ten years, and we never got married. Never even set a date. That should say something. But it doesn’t make it any easier. Just thinking about him makes me wish he was here, even with his asshole comments. I hate feeling helpless against his hold over me. Yet, I act like a love sick child at the mere mention of getting back together. I know deep down it’s not going to happen, but just the idea makes me want it more.

And then there’s Matty. I don’t want him to be the guy that helps me get over Chase. Some guy off the streets could fill those shoes and I wouldn’t care. But if, and it’s a big if, I were to ever start something, and I don’t know what, with him, I’d have to be 100% done with Chase. He deserves that much from me.

So with that in mind, I can’t just start hooking up with Matty. He’s my dear friend, who just happens to have the most gorgeous eyes, and a messy mane of sandy blonde hair I want to run my fingers through.

Shit. No. I will not think of him in such a way. I won’t. Move on Shel, but move on without Matty. Without hurting him.

To do list for moving on:

1. Find a rebound guy.

1. Find a rebound guy who isn’t a teacher.

1. Find a rebound guy who isn’t a teacher at my school.

Perfect. Melly Belly and I will start looking this weekend.

Chapter Four

The search for the ultimate boyfriend is to be continued. I chickened out, so Mel and I spent the rest of the weekend in our PJs watching Lifetime Movies and the Hallmark Channel.

This weekend would’ve been no different, but I promised my students I’d make it to at least one game this season. Eventually, I will make it out into the big bad world of dating. Maybe.

Tossing my bag on the counter in the restroom, I sift through it for my lip gloss and a brush. The wind tonight has my hair feeling like a rat’s nest. You’d think with all the leave-in conditioners and hair polish, my hair would be tame, but no. I always have to curl or straighten it. Or put it up in a clip.

“When was the last time you went to a football game?” I ask Mel.

“Last year some time. Maybe homecoming. Nick and I went with you and Chase, remember?” she responds.

“Yeah, well I don’t miss this,” I say, brushing the knots out of my brown hair. “Don’t get me wrong, I love football something fierce, but high school is just way too slow paced. It’s like watching water boil.” I stuff my brush back in my bag, and reapply my lip gloss.

Mel finishes washing her hands and then takes out her own tube of lip gloss. Her hair is perfect, and unaffected by the wind. Long, shiny, and straight as a ruler, she lets it hang freely past her shoulders and it wouldn't move even if a tornado touched down on her nose. “Good, so we can cross this shit off our bucket list.”

A stall door flings open, and the clack clack of heels echoes through the staff rest room. The reflection in the mirror smirks at me.

“Hey, Summer. I guess Chase is dragging you to these things now,” I say with a fake smile, never looking directly at her. “You should really rethink your footwear though. He’ll have you on the field moving the chains with him and your heels are gonna get stuck in the ground.”

“Forget the chains. Why the hell would you wear stilettos to a game anyway? TMZ isn’t following you around with a camera or something, are they?” Mel asks, sarcastically looking around the bathroom.

“Apparently, looking good is only a priority for one of us in here,” Summer says, with a click of her tongue.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me, right?” Mel snaps back, turning around to face her.

Summer teases her smooth, long black hair in the mirror, all the while forming the duck lips. “You teach those at-risk kids, don’t you, Melissa? You’re starting to talk like them. You might want to consider a schedule change,” she snickers.

Mel starts taking off her earrings, and she pulls a rubber band off her wrist and twists it in her hair. Then she starts rolling up her sleeves. “Oh, I can do more than just talk like my students. I can act like them too. You want me to show you,” she steps forward, throwing up her arms and challenging her.

I want to laugh so hard. This is so Mel, pulling an award-winning Oscar performance. I bet she’s snorting inside.

Summer dries her hands, and darts out mumbling, “You guys are fucking crazy.”

As soon as she clears the door, Mel and I bust up laughing. Mel has to take a deep breath to calm herself, and her snorting. “Fucking crazy. I’ll show her fucking crazy. I’ll cut a bitch,” she jokes. And then we burst into laughter again. I’m practically convulsing as we exit the bathroom and head toward the bleachers.

“You know, I should probably call security,” I tease her. “Didn’t I sign some contract about protecting the safety of others?”

“With regards to students, yes. Her, no. That beeyotch is on her own,” Mel replies, putting her earrings back in and rolling down her sleeves.

“What’s so funny?” Matty asks. He picks up his pace alongside of us.

“Oh man,” I begin. “I wish you could have seen Mel go all gangsta on Summer in the bathroom. I thought she was gonna bust out a shank.”

Matty chuckles, and asks for more details. We fill him in on the way back to our seats.

“You better watch out,” he says. “She might stab you with one of her nails next time. Have you seen those things? They’re scary.” He trembles, jokingly.

I love that he recognizes her awful manicure as a hideous mess. “You think so. I was totally gonna get mine done tomorrow.” I hold out my hands staring at them. “I was even thinking of going longer than hers, with maybe an airbrushed zebra print.” I lean into him, nudging him to the side a little.

“Go for it. I think it’ll put a damper on your man hunt though. Most guys aren’t into artificial women,” he says.

“That’s bullshit,” Mel calls out. “You can’t tell us a guy would rather be with a girl from the itty bitty titty committee over a girl with melon-sized knockers.” She makes sure to emphasize the volume of boobage with her hands way out in front of her.

“I would,” he says, very seriously. “I like breasts that move.”

Mel and I are both silent and Matty looks back and forth at both of us. “What?” he asks, running his hand through his thick hair.

“You like them to move?” Mel repeats.

I shimmy to the left and right, shaking my boobs like Jell-O jiggles. “Like this,” I tease.

“That’s not exactly what I meant, but it’ll work,” he says. I stop jiggling. “Don’t stop. You can keep going.” The people in front in us look back, and I have to remind myself where we’re at.

“Cut it out,” I tell him. “We’ll have to finish this conversation later.” I gesture to the folks below us.

He winks at me. “I look forward to it.”

I gaze into his twinkling eyes, and am so happy we’re here together and he’s acting normal. I was so worried things were going to be awkward after what happened after school last week. But since then, he’s been just fine. We’ve chatted at work, and he even helped me take a boat load of projects to my car one day. We haven’t done lunch again, but I’m good with the way things have been.

“You guys just need to screw and get it over with already,” Mel says, stuffing a handful of popcorn in her mouth.

I roll my eyes, and I’m just about to tell her to shut up because there’re students around when Matty says, “Nah, once Shelly gets a piece of me, she won’t be able to stay away. I’m not sure I’m ready for so much of a time commitment just yet. She’s gonna want it all the time, and I’m pretty busy right now.” He starts to snicker, but I whack him in the chest with the back of my hand. “See, we haven’t even done anything yet, and she can’t keep her hands off me.”

He and Mel giggle, and I want to laugh because they’re both full of crap, but I don’t. Instead, I say, “You guys are dumb asses. Are you forgetting where we’re at?”

“No, Ms. Gelson, now watch your language,” Matty teases me.

“Alright, I’ll shut up,” Mel replies. “Let’s watch the rest of the game.”

I sit back against the bench and whip out my Red Vines. I chew on them one by one observing the teams run the ball up and down the field. Neither team has much of a passing game. And neither has a decent kicker.

I should coach this shiz.

Why haven’t they recruited from the soccer team? If we had a good enough kicker, we’d have more points on the board. How can you have a team who can’t kick a field goal at a minimum of twenty yards? When we march down all the way to the fifteen yard line and don’t kick the ball, I almost die. I have to bite my tongue from shouting obscenities. Sensing my frustration, Matty offers to go down to the snack bar and get some more licorice since I have already gnawed through a whole package.

I really shouldn’t talk shit about our coaching staff. I sure as hell don’t want the job. And if I did, I’d want to be like the coach on Friday Night Lights—a “molder of men,” is what I think Billy Riggins called him. When I first started watching the show, I viewed the whole first season—twenty-something episodes—in one sitting. It took almost 24 hours, and every time I started a new episode I’d laugh at myself because after about sixteen of them, I was pretty much delirious. I can still picture Chase’s expression when I told him I wanted to move to a small town in Texas so I could live the football life. He told me to go to sleep and forget about it.

I still think about Texas all the time.

“Hey,” Mel says, “Look who’s on the field.”

I sit forward, resting my elbows on my knees to peer at the sidelines. Sure enough, Summer is there, heels and all, getting in the way. The boys have to keep walking around her. It seems every time they’re going to make substitutions, she’s right in the path of the guys. One of the assistants finally tells her something, and she moves further away from the group and down field a bit. She really has no business being on the field. I know football and I wouldn’t just occupy space without having a specific job to do.

“I’m almost embarrassed for her,” I tell them. “She looks like an idiot.”

“Entertaining though,” Mel quips.

“I’m over it. Unlike some people,” Matty drags on his words, “I’m tired of hearing about her.”

Whatever.

At the games end, we pull through and win with a two-point conversion in the last few minutes. I paid enough attention to the game, in between bouts of jokes and crap talking, to chat up the highlights with my students on Monday. Mission accomplished.

“I have to pee,” Mel says when we reach the bottom of the bleachers. “I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”

She disappears in the crowd and Matty and I continue walking.

A breeze picks up and I shiver.

Matty sheds his hoodie and hands it to me. “Here, put this on.”

“No way,” I tell him. “I’m the dummy who didn’t bring a jacket. You stay warm.”

“Just put it on,” he pleads, shoving it into my hands.

Fine. I start pulling the thing over my head. The familiar earthy scent in the material makes me want to squish it up to my nose and breathe it in. Matty is significantly bigger than me and I’m swimming in his clothes. When I finally surface, he puts his hands on both sides of the hood, and pulls it down over my head. I gaze up at him as he runs his hands through my hair and frees it from the inside of the sweatshirt. I could kiss him right now. I really could. I consider my rule of no dating guys from work, and think I should really add no kissing them at work either. But standing here, looking into his ocean blue eyes I can swim in, I want him to press his lips to mine.

“Aw, now isn’t that sweet,” I hear the bastard say. “Is this like the new way to ask a girl to go steady? You let her wear your hoodie instead of your letterman’s jacket.”

Matty turns away from me, and we’re both facing Chase and Summer. I find comfort in having his arm around me, resting on my shoulder. I glance at the couple before me and realize how I’m in such a better place than she is. Summer is freezing, as observed by her T.H.O.s—titty hard-ons—piercing through her thin v-neck shirt. We should all be wearing protective goggles around those things.

Chase is wearing a light hoodie under a jacket. Would it kill him to offer up his coat to her? Or maybe she prefers the stylish icy look.

I’d just as soon walk away, but Matty squeezes my shoulder and says, “Summer. Quick question: does it bother you that your boyfriend is so vested in our relationship?” He points to us. “I’m glad I don’t have to worry about that. Shelly doesn’t even mention you guys, let alone talk smack to you right in front of me. I honestly think she could care less about either of you.”

Chase opens his mouth to say something, but Matty kisses the top of my head and says, “Let’s go, baby.”

I put my hand up to reach his on my shoulder, and hold on to it as we walk away.

How can I possibly thank him for this later?

Hmm … I can think of a few ways.

Chapter Five

“You ready?” Mel asks me as I jump in her car. She looks great. Dark fitted jeans, knee high black heeled boots, lacey turquoise sleeveless top, and a few strands of colorful beads around her neck. Bright colors always look amazing against her olive skin tone. She styled her hair smooth and straight, and did her smoky eye trick. With her wide-set eyes, she can totally pull that look off like a MAC model. Is she looking for a man too, or what? She looks hot.

Raising my brow, I tell her, “Maybe I need a makeover. Guys aren’t gonna notice me next to you, hot mama.”

“Don’t be silly. You look great.” She waves me off with a hand in my face to tell me I’m being dramatic. I flip the visor mirror down and notice I really do look good. Well, I don’t want to sound conceited but I’d do me. I’d really do Mel, but I’m doable. I wish I could do a smoky eye though. It just doesn’t look the same on my almond-shaped green eyes. Believe me, I’ve tried. I snap the mirror shut, and she asks me, “Where to?”

“What do you mean, where to? I thought you had that part figured out. You’re picking me up.”

“This isn’t a date, Shel. I thought you’d have a plan.”

“Oh great, I finally work up the nerve to get a piece of ass and I don’t even know where to look for it.”

“Don’t freak. Let’s just think for a sec. Where do single people go to hook up?” Mel pouts her face in deep thought. Hook up—it sounds so dirty. Not that searching for a piece of ass is any better. But it’s so impersonal … like I’m looking for a male hooker or something. Great, my fiancé dumps me and I’m five seconds away from combing the boulevard looking for a man to jump my bones before I become a born-again virgin. Okay, maybe we should call it something other than hooking up. Plus, I didn’t bring any cash, and I doubt if we did find a male prostitute, he’d take my bank card. I don’t think they carry a credit card machine in their thongs. Maybe I can swipe it between his butt cheeks. I giggle inside. Mel yelps, “Hello! You’re not helping. Where should we go?” She asks again, like two times is the magic number and I’m going to all of a sudden know where to find a man. Newsflash, if I knew where to find one, I wouldn’t be in this predicament.

“I have no fucking clue. Neither one of us has been single in like ten years. The last time I was dating was in college. I’m not about to hit the library or a frat party.”

She grins. “That could be fun. You wanna be a cougar?” She flutters her brows.

I punch my friend on the arm and tell her to go to hell. “Let’s just go to the new wine bar.” I roll my eyes in disbelief. I can’t believe I just mentioned a wine bar. Gag.

“Wine? You don’t even like wine.”

“Well, maybe the guys will be a little bit classier than if we hit the Yard House for a long skinny tube of beer.”

“Oh, honey, you’re looking for a man tonight. Don’t mention long, skinny, and tube in the same sentence.” Mel says this with a straight face, but I can’t help but laugh.

“What’s wrong with long?” I ask through snorts.

“Nothing as long as it’s not skinny. I’d rather have short and thick.”

I smack her again. “You’re bad, my friend.”

Finally Mel starts her car and we are on our way to find the man of my dreams. Okay, maybe not the man of my dreams. Maybe just someone who doesn’t bug the shit of me and can take my mind off of Chase, and Matty, for a while.

It’s a half hour drive to the bar—which would take only ten minutes if Mel would stop being a pus and drive on the freeway—and my mind is filled with thoughts about two men who are as different as night and day. How can I be so attracted to both? I thought I had a type. I guess not, because not only do Chase and Matty look different, everything else about them is in contrast too. Chase isn’t a talker, he’d prefer to go to dinner and eat in silence. When Matty and I eat together, there is a constant flow of chatter in between bites. When Chase gets angry, he attacks and tries to say anything to put you down. Matty is chill. When something bothers him, he talks it out without raising his voice. Why is it again that I still have feelings for Chase? Hmm. I guess the saying is true. Love is blind. And with ten years of history, I’d say it’s probably deaf too.

After last week’s incident with Matty and Chase at the game, I expected Matty to tell me what a jerk Chase is, but he didn’t. I thanked him for making Chase and Summer look like idiots, not in those words exactly. He just waved me off like it was nothing. He did, sort of lie, to them. Mel and I talk about Summer all the time. And he made it seem like he and I are a couple. But oh well. I felt like I was on a major high when we walked away that night. I have so much respect for Matty for not saying anything bad about Chase. It would be so easy, but he just keeps his mouth shut.

Mel, on the other hand, is a different story. On the way home from the game, Mel had a trash talking fest. She unleashed years of frustration about things Chase had done or said to piss her off. Apparently, she’s been biting her tongue—which is totally uncharacteristic of her—because she thought he made me happy. But now that Chase and I are over, she is no longer keeping quiet with her true feelings about my ex.

“You know, I never really thought you guys would last as long as you did. I didn’t say anything because I figured you guys would break up sooner or later. But then you stayed together longer and longer, and it was too fucking late. You already loved him, and you sure as hell wouldn’t have listened to me if I said anything. But now, you know he’s a dick. So get on with your life. I don’t give a shit if you move on with Matty or with the paleta man, just get over Chase already.” Her words have been replaying in my head, over and over again. The paleta man? Really? I don’t remember the last time I saw an ice cream man go down my street.

And if that wasn’t enough, she also took the time to remind me about when Chase went out of town for this job he had when we were in our credential program. He was supposed to be gone for four days but got home early and didn’t tell me. Instead, he went to his friend’s house, played video games and went golfing with the boys. I would’ve never known but his boss called for him and when I told him Chase was still out of town, he embarrassed the shit out of me when he said they had all arrived on the same plane two days earlier. I could have killed Chase. But of course, he made it sound like it was my fault he needed some “me” time and a break from being “married” already.

I forgave him, like the love sick girl I was, and never spoke of it again. That is until my bestie reminded me of what a stupid ass I was to let it go. At the time, the whole thing didn’t seem so bad, but now, looking back, I feel like I was such a fool.

The car turns off and the sound of Mel’s favorite 80’s boy band is silenced. It’s fun to watch her dance to the music like we’re still in junior high. After repeatedly watching the same music videos over and over again until the tape threatened to give out, we could’ve easily been backup dancers. I bet we still could.

“You ready?” she asks, as she opens her car door.

Well, we’re here. So I guess it doesn’t matter.

And just as quickly as we walk in the place, we walk out.

Bad idea. The guys at the wine bar fit into one of three categories. One—twenty-somethings in Hollister shirts who kept saying, “Dude”. Two—old guys in blazers who sniffed, swished, and swirled before taking a tiny sip of wine and spitting it out. And three—the good looking, funny guys my age who would have been totally perfect had they not been there … with their wives.

“What now?” Mel asks as she starts her car.

“Cheesecake Factory?” I suggest.

Mel sighs, “Really? Don’t think you’re gonna find a guy interested in women sitting at the bar there.”

She has a point. “BJ’s?”

“You want this hypothetical guy to watch you or a game?”

“Suck it, Mel. You decide then.”

“Oh, whatever. Let’s go to BJ’s. I could use a Pazookie right about now.”

Yum. The thought of a Pazookie sounds so much better than man-hunting. If only a guy could be as sweet and delicious as a hot fudge chocolate chip cookie with ice cream on top. My mouth waters. Yes, definitely going to order dessert when we get there.

BJ’s is just as crowded as I thought it would be for a Friday night. What’d we expect? After waiting 45 minutes, we finally snag a seat at a booth in the bar area. I order a Jeremiah Red, and Mel gets some fruity concoction with a ridiculous name.

Our first drink comes, and I can’t take a sip fast enough. A little dribbles down my chin and I hurry to catch it. I take another sip. Oh, how I love beer. So soothing to the belly, to the mind, to the heart. I really love pushing my palette with a variety of brews. I usually just drink Hef at home—not too heavy, but not piss water either. But at a bar, I like to go a little darker, with fuller flavor.

While I concentrate on my beer, Mel looks around like a lion on the prowl for her next meal.

“I swear, all these guys look like children,” she rattles. “And what’s with the tight shirts? I don’t want my man to wear tighter clothing than mine. And the girly pants? The little boys at school gross me out with their skinny jeans, and here we have grown men wearing them.”

I look around and I see what she’s talking about. Looks like we walked into an ad for Abercrombie, American Eagle, and Hollister. I think I see a guy with pooka shells around his neck. Nice. One dude’s pants are so tight I can actually see his balls. Big huge balls. Maybe they didn’t start out so enormous, but since his blood circulation is being cut off by denim, his nuts have swelled to the size of apples. It looks painfully freakish, yet I can’t tear my eyes away.

“Are you looking at the guy with the humongo testicles?” Mel asks, with a snort.

“How did you know?” I respond.

“You’re eyes got huge all of a sudden,” she says. “It looks like he stuffed two potatoes in his pants. Why don’t his friends tell him something? I would totally tell you if your va-jay-jay was exploding out of your jeans. Poor guy is never gonna be able to have children.”

“Hey ladies,” a young man’s voice sounds. “We were just waiting for a table to free up and noticed you two beautiful women were alone. Would you mind if we joined you?” The screech we hear is coming from a barely legal guy in baggy ass thug-life pants and a shirt three sizes too big. His friend, who has a cute face, looks just as silly as him. Is there no in-between here? These guys either look like they’re sporting a camel toe in their spandex jeans or they look like they could be extras in Boyz in the Hood.

“Are you guys even old enough to sit in the bar?” I ask, teasing.

The young men smile.

Mel looks them up and down before saying, “Tell me this. Who was the most popular boy band when you were in high school?”

The guys look at each other. One of them scratches his head. “Probably the Jonas Brothers,” he replies.

“Oh my God, are you kidding me?” I can’t even comprehend how absolutely hilarious this is.

“Get the fuck out of here,” Mel says, shooing them away with a flick of her wrist.

The toddlers disappear, and we practically bust a gut.

“That seriously had to be the funniest thing I’ve ever heard,” I tell her.

Our Pazookie arrives and we try to stop laughing long enough to enjoy it.

“They could have at least said N’Sync,” Mel says. “The Jonas Brothers? Those guys probably weren’t even alive when we were in high school. We’re old enough to be their mothers.”

“Doesn’t look like this is the place for me to get lucky either,” I say.

She swirls the cookie and ice cream around on her plate before saying, “Guess it’s time to move on. Third time’s a charm is what they say, right?”

It’s the same routine once we get in the car.

She sits in silence, as do I. How sad. Neither of us can think of any place to go in search of hot men. At this point, I’d settle for nice looking or even average, and preferably old enough to buy beer without a fake ID. How pathetic. Maybe Nick has a friend, a co-worker. We can head over to his office and I can throw myself at a cute little mail boy or something. Nah, anyone who works with him probably has as much time for me as Nick has for Mel.

The car is moving, but I have no idea where we’re going. Joining a convent is starting to look appealing. Maybe she’s taking me to the local nunnery. Even Mel thinks there’s no hope for me. I am pathetic.

“Here,” I screech, looking up at the happiest place on earth. No, not Disneyland. The Yard House. “I thought I said no.”

“Shel, get real. If you wanna find a guy who can hang with you, you’ve gotta look at some of your favorite spots. Can you really imagine being with a man who drinks wine? You know the lucky guy you marry has to love beer.”

“Preferably not the kind you can see through.” I have standards when it comes to my brew. “And preferably not an alcoholic either. I love my drinks but I'm not about to clean up after a sloppy drunk.”

Mel ignores my last comment with a scoff and says, “This is actually a perfect spot too. It’s not cheap, so guys who come here have to at least have a job.”

“Well, I guess that would be a plus, huh.” We chuckle. My guy definitely needs a J-O-B. “Well, if you think so, let’s go for it. I could use a Guinness right about now.”

“Uh-oh … jumping to the heavy stuff already.”

Inside, it’s crowded. No surprise there.

“Don’t you dare just sit here and watch the game either. You need to exude sexiness,” Mel scolds me. She adjusts her bra and her girls perk up. “Look there’s a high top.”

“A girl who likes sports is sexy,” I tell her.

“Maybe. But a girl who can talk sports like a man is not. So you can watch, just don’t frickin’ commentate.”

We rush over before anyone else seizes the empty seats. We settle in, order some drinks, and my eyes search the crowd. A lot of guys, who look to be my age, are sitting at the bar. Couples take up most of the tables. A group of barely legal drinkers sit at a booth covered with pints, shots, and cocktail glasses. I remember those days.

“Check him out.” Mel gestures at a guy looking in our direction from a few tables away.

Good looking, tall, wearing a black v-neck shirt. Clothes aren’t too tight. I can’t see his balls. Not bad. He smiles at me as he tips his glass to take a drink.

“Ain’t happenin’,” I tell my dear friend.

“What’s wrong with him? He’s into you,” she responds. She’s most likely right because he’s still looking our way with a smile.

“Did you see his pint? It’s probably a Coors Light,” I yelp.

Mel shakes her head. “I’ve heard of a wine snob, but not a beer … beer … I can’t think of anything.”

“I prefer connoisseur. And I’m not going to go out with a guy who drinks piss beer.”

“He’s still looking at you.”

“Well, he can keep looking at me all he wants.” Taking a swig of my own dark, thick stout, I suck in my top lip to taste the foam of the rich head gathered on my mouth. Oh, who knew drinking a beer could sound so sexy. I lower my eyes to get a view of some of the others at the bar. “How about the guys at the end?” I suggest. There are two of them, so Mel would have to play along. But they are decently dressed and they are strikingly hot.

“Ooo. They are cute. What are they drinking?” Mel asks.

I peer at the counter in front of them, but the area is empty. “I don’t know. They don’t have anything yet. Maybe they just ordered.”

We continue to drink and make small talk, all the while observing the two gentlemen at the end of the bar. “Wait. Look. The bartender is getting them drinks,” Mel says, and I try not to stare but I’m anxious. Please let it be a decent beverage.

“Oh shit,” Mel says. I must have the worst luck in the world.

“Cosmos? Really? Is this what my life has come to? I’m attracted to men who watch Sex and the City.” I down what’s left of my brew. “I’m destined to spinsterhood.”

“Hey, that was two. They next one is gonna be the third. Remember, third time’s a charm.” Mel tries to remain positive. Me, not so much. “Let’s keep looking.”

“Alright, but the next one … I’m not gonna even look at his face until I see what he’s drinking,” I explain. This has to work.

Mel shakes her head in disapproval.

It’s hard to find a mate looking solely at beer glasses. And it’s even more difficult to keep my eyes focused, so I don’t look at faces. This is important though, and I can do it.

There’s a table full of idiots with nothing but cider beer. I can tell from the bubbles, and the pink hue. Painted fingernails means there are women at the table. I look up. I’m right. Hmm, I’m better at this than I thought.

This is fun. Let’s try again.

Lowering my eyes, I search for a table holding glasses filled with amber-colored, or darker, fluid. If I can see through the sauce, it’s not worth a second look. At the very least, it should be cloudy like a darker wheat flavor. Seriously, there are over a hundred brewskis to choose from at this place, and so few people drink anything better than what equates to Budweiser. Why bother? Why not stay home and get an 18-pack of Natural Light for like two bucks?

The next table is filled with samplers. A tray of 8 small glasses of different beers. This could go one of two ways. Experienced drinkers looking to try something new. Or inexperienced drinkers who don’t know any better. No, I’ll pass on this table. I look up. Damn, I shouldn’t have. These guys are good looking. But a few of them haven’t touched the darker varieties so they’re definitely out of the question.

Moving on.

Tables full of women. No. Not for me.

Keep looking. Take your time.

Bingo! Man hands. I spy man hands. Some tan, some light. But strong hands, with long fingers resting or tapping on the table. One glass looks to be filled with a Hef—my assumption based on the lemon floating inside. Bars pair a Hef with lemons, I use an orange. So much better. Another glass looks like maybe a Newcastle.

Jackpot!

The last pint is topped off with what looks like a Black & Tan. The distinct layers of two different beers can be seen from way over here. This is the one and only time a pale ale is allowed—when mixed with a stout. The bartender did an expert pour. I'm dying to take a peek and see if there's a shamrock embossed in the head at the top of the glass. I’m in love with the owner of this tall boy. I want this man. I want to marry him and have his babies. I want to suck the foam off his upper lip, just like I did my own.

I blink hard and my mouth waters. I’m afraid to look up. Please don’t be ugly. Please be at least semi-cute. My eyes begin to take in my future husband at his waist. A piece of his shirt is tucked in the front, out in the back. Comfort is a priority to him. I like it. He wears a worn Claremont McKenna tee, not fitted but tight enough for me to make out his muscular chest. Educated. My man went to college. Not just anyone would sport CM gear.

“Did you find him?” Mel asks. She knows. She can see the hunger in my eyes.

I look down for a moment.

“I’m scared to look,” I tell her.

Mel snorts. “Can’t be worse than the guy with elephantitis or the guys with the cosmos.”

“Here goes nothing,” I say, picking my head up slowly.

My mouth drops. And I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Mel senses my concern. “What is it, Shel? Is he a dog?”

“He’s.” I blink. “He’s.” I try to swallow even though my mouth has gone dry.

Mel puts her hand on mine. “He’s what, Shel?”

“He’s. Matty.”

Chapter Six

When I look up again, at the man I thought was going to be my soul mate, our eyes meet, and he smiles. Worries subside instantly, and I smile right back. What am I supposed to do? Run? No, I’m going to enjoy this. He passed my test. And honestly, the thought of going somewhere else makes me want to fall into a beer induced coma, and the thought of man-hunting for the rest of the night makes me want to poke out my eyes with a corkscrew. I’m fried for tonight. If talking to Matty will get me home and off to sleep sooner rather than later, then so be it. He can help distract Mel from our search for the next top man in my life.

I watch him say something to one of his friends and strut over to our table.

“Hey, ladies,” Matty says, tipping his glass at us. “What brings you out tonight?”

“Beer,” I say, jokingly. “Needed some beer. Lots of beer.”

“That’s it?” Matty questions. “You both have the out for blood look in your eyes, like you’re on the prowl.” He jokingly roars like a kitty.

Mel shrugs him off with a chuckle. “I’m married, Matt.” She holds up her left hand.

“Okay, but there’s nothing wrong with window shopping. You can look but you can’t take any of the goods home.” Matty winks at her, and turns to me “How about you, Shel?”

Mel interrupts, telling him, “We’re looking for the man of Shel’s dreams.”

Matty turns his attention to me again. “Any luck?”

“It’s been hard you know, to find the man of one’s dreams based on beer selection.” Mel explains, again stealing Matty’s gaze from mine. It’s okay though because having him near me makes me want to do things to him I shouldn’t even be considering.

A chuckle escapes him. “Shel, that’s hysterical. Dating a pale ale guy is simply out of the question for you, huh?” He shakes his head, but he’s amused. The way he smiles with his whole face is adorable. When Chase smiled, there were times you couldn’t even tell if he was genuinely happy, or just putting on a show. But with this sweet man, even with a soft smile, just the slightest lift in his mouth, you can see his happiness in his eyes, his cheeks, and the tilt of his head. He doesn’t give off any fake vibes. Whatever you sense from him is always real.

“Hey, there are just some things I can’t get past. Some girls can't stand a guy with girly hands, or guys who don't wear socks, or men who wear ascots. Shitty brew just happens to be a deal breaker for me,” I explain. It dawns on me Matty knows my taste in beer. I smile at the thought. A flood of giddiness creeps over me, and I can’t stop smiling at him. I’m trying to hold back, but it’s not working. Why fight it, right?

Matty sits on the edge of one of the empty seats, and takes another swig of his darkly colored beer. “So a guy could be like nasty looking. I’m talking warts on his nose, big ole ears, and dandruff flaking out of his hair, and as long as he was drinking, let’s say, Guinness, he’d fall in the 'man of your dreams' category?” he asks, lifting his arms to hang his air quotes.

I laugh at his list of yucky traits. Looking into his crystal blue eyes, I tell him, “Yes.”

“But what if said Guinness was perfectly matched in a pint with a lighter beer … such as Bass?” Matty lowers his eyes at me in anticipation of my response.

I lean forward in my seat, lost in his playful gaze. “Even better.”

Mel stands up and tugs her bag over her shoulder. She puts her hand on Matty’s arm and says, “Lucky for you, you’re gorgeous and you have a glass full of both those beers.” She coughs and rubs her throat. “I’m not feeling well.” She coughs again. “Mr. Fuller, can you please give Ms. Gelson a ride home?”

Parked outside my condo, Matty and I are strangely silent. Usually, our conversations are non-stop like Rory and Lorali on Gilmore Girls, except we’re far from a mother and daughter duo. I begin digging around in my bag for my keys to break the awkward spell that has occupied us for at least an entire song.

Matty turns his body toward me. “I’m glad you let me bring you home tonight.”

“It’s not like I had much choice. Mel practically ran out of there. She didn’t even say goodbye. Bitch.” Grinning, I think of my dear friend. She sure knows how to set things up. She knows this situation I’m in right now would’ve never happened if left up to me. I’d probably be curled up on her sofa with a bottle of beer in my hand watching Lifetime movies with her. I’m not sure if I want to hug her, or slap her silly. “So what were you up to tonight, before you got stuck babysitting?”

“I met some of my buddies from undergrad for a drink. Nothing big.”

It hits me. “Oh shit, Matty, you didn’t even say goodbye to them. I’m sorry.”

“No worries. I’m sure they could figure it out.” My eyes shoot up to meet his. What does that mean? “I mean, you know. I doubt they’re offended or worried.”

I punch him in the arm. “So you thought you were gonna walk over to us looking all cute, take me home and have your way with me like some sorority girl in heat, huh?”

“Well, not the ‘in heat’ part.” He bursts out laughing. I punch him again but laugh right along with him.

“Since I ruined your night out with the boys, do you wanna come in? You know I have a well-stocked fridge. It’ll be just like the bar, you can even tip me if you want.”

“Yeah. Why not. Beats sitting in the car all night with you punching me.”

We both head toward the kitchen. I stop in the hallway to kick off my heels, and Matty goes for the fridge. This shouldn’t be weird. He’s been here many times. He hands me a beer and settles in on one of my bar stools. I hop up on the counter and rest against the cabinets. Taking a small sip, I feel self-conscious. I know he’s watching me.

Glancing back at him, the corners of my mouth turn upward in a slight smile. So this is different. Every other time Matty’s been to my house was when Chase lived here too. He hasn’t been here since I started thinking of him in a different light. Now, it’s just the two of us. Alone. I’m not engaged. He’s not … engaged or otherwise seeing someone. It’s just Matty. Me. And my thoughts. Dirty. Naughty. Thoughts.

I have a sudden interest in him strutting over, standing right in front of me, wrapping my legs around his back, and pulling him into me. It’s only after he rips off my panties and unbuckles his pants. The image is so vivid, it’s like I can feel him thrusting against me. My thighs twitch with the rising heat between my legs and I have to cross them to hold back a feeling of thought provoking pleasure. Does that ever happen in real life or only in the slew of romance novels that have been filling the space in my bed every night since Chase left?

“Whatever you’re thinking, it must be good,” Matty says, grinning.

My face gets hot, and it’s like he’s been reading my mind. “Well, you know. A woman can do a lot with an imagination.” I wiggle my brows at him, and a subtle grin spreads across his mouth.

Matty takes a swig of his beer, and sets it down on the counter. He runs his hand through his thick messy hair and smiles. I can’t take my eyes off his mouth as he takes the few steps needed to stand before me. “A man can do a lot with his imagination too.” Placing his palms flat on my thighs, his touch is like a flame burning through my skin and my temperature rises, he gazes into my eyes and I inhale a deep breath. I try to relax in anticipation of what’s coming next, even though I'm sure he can hear my heart beating right out of my chest. He glances at my mouth and murmurs, “But it doesn’t get fun until he makes it a reality.”

His face is less than two inches away from mine. I can feel his breath on me and my head whirls with excitement. I gaze down at his lips and lean in, closing the gap between us. Matty puts his right hand to my cheek, then runs it through my hair, sweeping my long bangs out of my face. He pauses, his eyes studying every part of my face as if he's seeing me for the very first time. His hand moves to the nape of my neck and sends a rush of heat down my spine. Then he tugs at my nape to guide me in for our very first kiss.

Our lips barely touch, yet the sensation of pleasure spreads like rapid fire soaring through every cell in my body. I back away to get a glimpse of him. His eyes smile at me and instantly I’m relaxed and at home with him. He tugs on the back on my neck again, and this time the kiss lingers as his mouth presses against mine. A few soft pecks turn into harder ones before my lips part, and his tongue teases at caressing mine. He drags his tongue across my top lip, and I let out a slight whimper as my legs hug his ass, reeling him closer. With hands full of his sandy blonde hair, I’m awestruck at how soft and sexy it is. Tugging gently at his lower lip with my teeth, he lets out a groan and squeezes my ass. My tongue trails the outline of his lips and then I take him in for another fierce, heavy-breathing, smooch fest.

Our tongues slide against each other, mingling in a new form of communication for two adults who were once just good friends. I can sense his feelings for me in the way he softly tangles his tongue with mine and the gentle tug of my hair.

My girl parts throb against the hardness in the front of his pants, and I have an odd sense of awareness of how exciting it is to make out with a man as I sit on my kitchen counter pinned against my cabinets.

Making out is so much fun. I can’t remember the last time Chase and I kissed like this.

Shit, trying to push Chase as far from my thoughts as possible, I wrap my legs around Matty tighter. He holds me closer, embracing me with his strong arms as we kiss till my lips are swollen and my chin is stinging from his stubble. Fighting the need to take a big breath, I close my mouth and our lips meet once more for a lip-locked kiss, and a series of short pecks.

“Wow, Matty,” I say, returning my gaze to his and running my fingers through his locks.

“That’s what I was thinking,” he responds, holding me again in a tight embrace. I hug him, resting my head on his shoulder. We’re silent in this hold for what seems like hours, soaking in the happiness yet worrying about what comes next. Awkwardness? More kissing? Sex? Regret?

“Matty,” I mutter into his shirt.

He releases me and pecks me on the cheek. “Yes, Shelly.”

“What do you think about this?”

He kisses me again, on the lips. “About this?”

“Yes. About that.”

And another one on the other cheek. “I think it’s great. I’m having fun. You?”

This time, I kiss him. “Yes. Yes, I am. But that’s not what I meant.”

“I know.” He sighs. “I just wanted to enjoy the moment.”

“Moment? Are you saying this is it?” My face heats with embarrassment. Maybe he didn't feel what I just felt. Maybe I was interpreting his signals wrong.

“Well isn’t that what you’re getting at? We can’t do this. I’m not ready for a relationship. Yada yada yada.” He holds my hands in his and looks at me intently, not turning away.

“Well, maybe. I don’t know. I really wanted this to happen. I think I’ve always been curious about kissing you, what it’d be like to be an ‘us’. But you’re one of my best friends. This is fun, and I really like you. But what if it doesn’t work? We have to see each other every day. It’ll be weird and I don’t wanna lose a friend.”

Giving my hands a squeeze, he says, “I’m not going anywhere, Shel. I knew you were going to say all this and I actually had a big ol’ speech planned if it came to this point. So let me give you the short version.” He pauses to bring his lips to mine again. Our lips connect sending tingles from my mouth to my toes and back up again. “I know you just felt that. And I don’t think it’s just pure hormones talking either. We’re old enough to tell a fucking awesome kiss from one you can’t wait to be finished with. When I kiss you,” he touches the pad of his thumb to my bottom lip, “I don't want to stop.”

I remove his hand so I can think clearly. “Maybe it’s just tonight, though. What about tomorrow? And the next day?”

“I don’t know, but why not see where this takes us?”

His warm breath spreads across my neck, his lips brushing against me as I utter, “That sounds great and all, but honestly, I don’t really think I’m ready for a relationship just yet.”

“Then let’s not call it one. Let’s just enjoy each other’s company. You can even see other people if you want so this doesn’t feel too relationship-y for you.” Feeling his lips touch my neck sends all common sense out the window. “What do you say, Ms. Gelson? Are we going to not have a relationship?”

“I think I’d like that, Mr. Fuller.” My arms wrap around his neck and round two of passionate kissing begins.

When we finally come up for air again, we’re lying on my sofa wrapped around each other. Our legs are intertwined, my hands are on his well-built chest, and his hands graze and singe the skin on my lower back. I could very well get used to having his soft hands all over me.

“Do you wanna stay, Matty?”

Instantly, his eyes dart to mine. “Really?”

“Yes, but not in the way you think?” I lower my head, sure that I’m blushing.

“Okay, I’d love to stay with you but what are you thinking?” He runs his fingers through the back of my hair so tenderly I’m not afraid to ask for what I want.

“This. I want to sleep with you, in your arms, in jammies, like this.” I pause. “And that’s it.”

Holding my chin between his thumb and forefinger, he lifts it so my eyes stare into his. His eyes soften, so sincere, and he says, “I’d love to.” He starts to unravel himself from me and we make our way to my bedroom, hand in hand.

“Give me a minute,” I tell him as I go into the bathroom to change my clothes, wash my makeup off, and brush my teeth.

When I return, he’s sitting on my bed with his shirt and shoes off. His bare chest is enough to send me into fits of hunger. His skin is tan and his muscles are on display even though he’s not trying to flex. His shoulders are strong and broad, narrowing down to his slim waist. He rises to his feet and I sigh as I take in the full sight of him. This isn’t the same body I remember from when we first met at work five years ago. He was so skinny and lanky then. Now, he is a grown man, a gorgeous one at that, and he’s standing right in front of me. I press my palms to his chest, placing them just above his hard nipples. Leaning down, he kisses me on the forehead. He clasps his hands around mine and brings them to his lips, touching them softly to my fingertips. “My turn.” He steps around me and disappears into the bathroom. Blowing hair out of my face, I allow myself to exhale and try to calm down from the obvious tension and attraction between us.

I’m already in bed when he returns, facing the door so I can see he’s only clothed in black boxer briefs. Calvin Klein from what I can read on the wide band. Oh my! I have my own version of the Mark Wahlberg underwear ads about to get into my bed, and I just told him all I want to do with him is sleep.

Holy shit. I need to think of something other than this beautiful man before me, or I swear we’ll be naked and doing the nasty in a matter of seconds. Fighting the urge to have sex with him was a lot easier before I saw him in his chonies. Ok, Shel, get your mind out of his pants and think of something unattractive. Hmm. Work. What’s happening at work? Fuck work. Umm. Lord of the Flies. Oh shit. Matty is fucking hot. A bunch of sniveling adolescent boys. Piggy. The conch. Okay, my thoughts are simmering.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Completely. Now get in my bed, Mr. Fuller, and sleep with me.”

He smiles, shaking his head at me, pulls the covers back and enters my bed. “I love it when you talk dirty, Ms. Gelson.”

I chuckle. “It does sound a little kinky. Like we’re getting freaky in detention or something.”

“However it sounds, I like being here with you, Shel. “ He reaches for me and reels me in close. I love how he just reached over and slid me across the bed to him. Mmm. I could melt.

I pour myself into one last kiss before turning around and backing into his body, till we fit together perfectly, spooning like a couple in love. His lips graze my bare shoulder and I’ve never felt so treasured, so loved before in my whole life.

I slept in this very bed, in this very house with the same man for several years and never did I feel like I do right now. Here, in Matty’s arms, I’m relaxed. I’m comfortable. I’m cozy and warm. And I’m happy. I could sleep like this every night for the rest of my life.

But then, tomorrow will come. And I will have to …

Wake up.

Chapter Seven

Wake up, I hear a voice in my head. Wake up.

I roll around, tangled in my sheets, and suddenly, my eyes pop open.

Last night, I fell asleep in Matty’s arms. I did. I really did. Peeling my covers back from my face, I look over at the empty space next to me and my heart drops like the thud of a bowling ball. He left. He didn’t even stick around to say good morning. It’s not like we did it or anything. We just slept. Oh son of a shiznit. Damn it. That’s even more intimate than screwing for Christ’s sake. I’m a frickin’ idiot. I totally spooked him, didn’t I? I scared him off. A wham bam thank you ma’am would’ve been better.

I’m such a terrible non-girlfriend. I’ve been out of the loop for so long, I don’t know how it all works. Do I call him now? Do I pretend like nothing happened? Well, nothing did happen. What do I do? I slept, as in actual slumber, with Matty and now he’s gone and I have no effing clue what to do next.

I wrestle myself out of bed, and make my way to the bathroom. Looking at myself in the mirror, my eyes try to look away from the hopeless romantic before me. As much as I tried to fight it, deep down I think I wanted it to work. I never realized it until now. Waking up alone, after a night without sex, standing in the bathroom, I feel like total shit. The last thing I want to do is wash my face or brush my teeth. I run my fingers through my hair. What did I do? I silently ask, gazing down the drain of my sink. How metaphoric. My love life has totally gone down the drain. Thank God for my students and my awesome ability to teach, or I’d start posting FML all over Twitter and Facebook. Okay, maybe I wouldn’t go that far. But really, I’m pretty crappy when it comes to dealing with guys.

“Good morning, Shel?” The sound of Matty’s voice startles me.

I look up and see his reflection in the mirror. Leaning up against the door frame, his arms are crossed over his chest and he’s smiling. Smiling. That’s a good sign, right? Well, he’s here. He didn’t leave. I guess I didn’t scare him off?

“Hi,” I utter back. I focus on him, right there in the mirror. He’s real. Not just a mirage. He’s standing right behind me. I'm tempted to pinch myself but I don't want to look like an even bigger idiot than I am.

“Why don’t you do whatever it is you do when you wake up, and come to the kitchen, I got us breakfast.” He takes a step toward me, bends over, and kisses me on the top of my head. I could just faint. My legs are mush, and I think my heart just stopped for a beat.

Before I can react or turn around to give him a proper hello, he’s gone. Out the door, and I can hear his footsteps throughout my house.

What is it I do when I wake up? Hmm. I normally do nothing but grab a book, or watch TV with a bowl of cereal. I shut the door so I can pee in peace and try to think of what to do next. Finally, I decide to splash some water on my face, glide some deodorant on, brush my teeth, moisturize with some smelly lotion, and pull my hair up into a twist. Should I do make-up? Nah. He’ll probably laugh at me for doing as much as I did already. He knows I’m simple.

Immediately, I start cracking up when I see what’s on my kitchen table. Captain Crunch cereal. How does he know these things about me? First the beer, and now this. My favorite cereal.

“When was the last time you went grocery shopping?” He chuckles. “I had to go to the store. It was either that or we were going to have beer and yogurt for breakfast.”

“Hey, don’t judge. It’s the breakfast of champions.” I sit down across from him at my table. “Besides, I’ve been sleeping over at Mel’s a lot lately.”

He pours me a bowl of cereal and hands me the milk. “Will this work?”

“Hell yes, this is my favorite cereal. I could eat the whole box for breakfast, lunch, and dinner today.” I stop talking so I can stuff my mouth with a giant spoonful of sweet crunchy bites.

“Ha ha. Somehow I believe that.” After pouring his own bowl, he digs in too.

For a moment, there is this ease of comfort while the two of us chow down on cereal. It’s anything but silent, with the loud munching of crunch berries, but it’s peaceful. Every now and then, our eyes meet and we smile. Things are not at all awkward, like I imagined they would be. It feels just like any other day, except Matty was in my bed last night. But knowing that doesn’t make me feel weird. If anything, it makes me grin at him again. And he smirks back at me. Just a little something to acknowledge we’re thinking of each other.

Matty finishes his breakfast and pushes his bowl away from him. He dabs at the side of his mouth with a napkin and clears his throat to speak. “So what’s on your agenda for today?”

I have to think about it for a second. “Not much,” I say, through a mouthful of food. I finish chewing before I continue. “I was just going to kick back, relax, and watch movies until Mel calls if she feels like getting out of the house.”

“Mind if I join you? Until Mel calls, that is.”

“I’d love for you to join me. But come to think of it, she probably won’t call.”

He looks at me confused. “Why not?”

I smirk. “She’s probably hoping you’re still here.”

“Oh, so you just assumed I was gonna bring you home and you could have your way with me?” he says, jokingly.

“I didn’t assume anything. But I’m sure Mel was hoping something would happen. So stay, relax with me,” I tell him.

“Sounds good. I’m in.” He stands. “Do you mind if I shower?”

“Go for it. Towels are in the cabinet in either bathroom. You can use mine or the one in the hall.”

Before heading to the shower, Matty takes my bowl and his, and washes them. Who is this guy? Why didn’t I sleep with him sooner? I could’ve had a live-in dishwasher by now. So I don’t look like a lazy ass, I get up and put away the cereal and milk.

Matty is standing at my counter, wiping it down when I come from behind, placing my arms around him in a gentle embrace. I can feel the hardness of his abs beneath my fingers and I suddenly want to watch him take a shower so I can have a front row seat with a view of suds traveling down his chiseled frame. “Thank you, Matty.”

He wiggles himself around so he’s facing me, and holds me close to him. “Thanks for letting me stay. I had a really good time last night.”

I squeeze him again before looking up. He stares down at me and I catch him glancing at my mouth. He has to know I want him to. Gazing at his full lips, I try sending him a signal that it’s okay for him to lean down and go in for a kiss. And he does. Just a soft, gentle one. Our lips lock together for three or four lingering pecks lasting a few seconds each. Perfect. I love that he doesn’t feel the need to shove his tongue down my throat every time he kisses me.

“About that shower,” he says, “maybe I should make it a cold one.”

I lean into him, grazing my waist against the swell in his jeans. If he was any taller, that ridge would be right in the valley between my breasts. “That’s not such a bad idea,” I snicker.

He plants a kiss on my head, and calls me a brat. On his way to the restroom, I notice he stops in the living room and grabs a bag. “What do you have there?” I ask him.

“When I went to the store, I stopped by my place to pick up a few things.”

“Oh really? Confident, huh?”

“Well, yeah. I was gonna take a shower at home but I wanted to hurry and get back before you realized I was gone. I didn’t want you to think I’d skip out on you.”

Who is this guy? Am I dreaming? I didn’t know guys could be this thoughtful. What else have I been missing for the last umpteen years of my life?

When we’re both finally showered, separately of course, (or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it) we sit down to figure out what we’re going to watch.

“Your movie collection is quite depressing, Shel. Some of these don’t even count. How many boxed sets of TV shows do you have?”

I laugh. I love my TV shows. I have every season of Grey’s. I have most of Entourage. All of Gilmore Girls and Dawson’s Creek (still can’t believe Joey Potter is married to Tom Cruise—beeyotch got Pacey and Maverick). I also have the last season of Beverly Hills 90210, only because I love to watch the final episode when Donna and David finally frickin’ get married. Her dress was amazing. She looked like Cinderella going to the ball.

“C’mon. I have more than just TV. Don’t exaggerate. You know, we could totally have a Step Up marathon. But the last one kind of bites because Channing Tatum isn’t in it.” Even though I say this with the utmost seriousness, Matty laughs at me. Okay, so I was being funny but Channing so should have been in part three. In fact, the little cameo in part two really wasn’t enough either, but the whole dancing on trampolines and flips was more than hot. He was on fire.

“That’s it. I gotta leave. You’re too much.” He sets my DVDs down and starts to walk away.

He comes back chuckling, and picks up some other movies. We both giggle, flipping through my movie collection.

“How about Dear John?” I ask.

Matty takes the movie out of my hand and puts it back down in the “no” pile, which at the moment is increasing in size exponentially. He holds up She’s The Man, and asks, “Do you have every movie this guy has been in?”

“Probably.” I grin.

“Stalker,” he says, shaking his head.

“Don’t hate. If I could get season tickets to all Channing Tatum movies, I’d pay top dollar. Oh, and for Bradley Cooper too. And Ryan Reynolds. And Ashton Kutcher. Oh, one more. Tim Riggins from Friday Night Lights, I can’t think of his real name. Imagine a movie with those five guys in it. Oh my.” I look up at the ceiling, picturing such a hot cast of men. It would definitely need to be an action movie, with lots of sweat. Beach scenes, love scenes. Lots of reasons to be shirtless. Some comedy too. On second thought, make it a romantic comedy with a bit of ass kicking just for the heck of it.

He snaps me out of my fantasy with a play tap to my thigh. “Shel, Riggins is a high school football player. Just a kid.” Matty raises a brow at me in disgust.

“No, he’s not,” I say, defensive. “He’s like twenty-something. I looked it up. Plus, high school boys don’t look like him. At least, none of the ones I went to school with.” When I watch the current 90210 and see guys like Liam and Teddy, I always wonder where they get these guys from. The boys I went to high school with did NOT look like Matt Lanter. My high school friends looked more like Malcolm in the Middle, or Doogie Howser.

“Alright, alright. But if you’re gonna drool over Riggs, I’ll just let my eyes feast on Minka Kelly.”

“Deal.”

It occurs to me Matty must watch FNL too, if he knows about the cast. Oh my goodness, the pro side of my pro and cons list for dating him continues to grow. It’s just the little issue of us working together that still bothers me. And the fact that he's one of my best friends and I don't want to risk losing him. Maybe those cons outweigh the long list of pros. A frown spreads over my face.

We finally settle on rotating action-suspense films with chick flicks. Up first: The Notebook. Just the thought makes me giggle. I won the first round. After slipping in the DVD, I turn around and notice Matty sitting on my sofa, with his feet propped up on my ottoman/coffee table. He looks adorable sitting there in some soccer shorts and a loose tee. Now, where do I sit? I take a few steps toward the other side of the sofa and remove one of my decorative pillows to take a seat. Matty raises his arm, inviting me to sit next to him. Okay, that’s nice. I plop myself next to him, tuck my feet underneath my thighs, and get cozy. He lays his arm on my side, and his hand curves against my ass. How will I ever be able to concentrate on the movie with his hand on my ass and my cheek pressed against his shoulder? The air better kick in soon because the rubbing of our warm bodies together is going to start a wild fire.

So maybe The Notebook isn’t the best idea for our first movie together, and not for the reasons previously mentioned. I’m a blubbering idiot more than once while watching the flick. This movie seriously kills me. Beautiful but heart wrenching. But then, I remember Matty knows me. It’s not like he’s not aware I’m a blubbering idiot. No use in trying to act like someone I’m not.

Finally, the ultimate sex scene comes on the screen. Allie comes back to see Noah after seeing something about him in the newspaper. It's not long before they start kissing and ravaging each other up the staircase before he throws her against the wall, her legs tie around him, and they kiss fiercely like there’s not a care in the world.

“Have you ever done that?” I ask him, surprising myself.

He lets out a slight chuckle. “What’s that?” He knows what I’m talking about.

“Have you ever just screwed the hell out of someone like in the movie, throwing her against the wall, with your pants around your ankles like you’re saving the world with this one last act of passion?”

He runs his fingers through his hair, and scratches his head. “Wow. This movie will never be the same for me again.”

“I’m serious.” I sit up and away from him to get a good look at his expression.

“Well, I wouldn’t call what they’re doing ‘screwing’.”

“What would you call it then?”

His hand disappears in his hair again. “Maybe I’m gonna sound like a chick, but I think they’re making love.”

I snicker. “Really? It’s not what I picture when I think of making love?”

He chuckles again. “What? You think making love has to take place in a bed, all sweet and innocent.”

“Well, yeah. Kind of, I guess.” That’s exactly how I imagine it. That's all I've been doing for the last ten years, before Chase dropped my ass and the dust started to settle down there.

“Hmm. I guess I think if you love the one you’re with, anytime you have sex, it’s making love.” Good point.

“Even if you get slammed against the wall?” I ask, grinning.

“Even if you get slammed against a wall, yes. Making love can be very passionate. I think the more in love you are, the more passionate it is, and the better it feels. It’s just all better. I’m gonna sound like a chick again, but I like sex that’s meaningful.” He licks his lips. “Wait. Don’t get me wrong. Cheap sex serves a purpose, but I’d rather have someone I can make passionate love to all the time than a different person every now and then just so I can blow off steam.” He unleashes these words while mingling his fingers with mine.

I take a moment to consider this. He does sound like a girl. But what he says makes sense, and it sounds appealing. He wiggles my fingers in his, getting my attention, “And I guess a quickie with the one you love does the job too.”

“You never answered my question?”

He seems to consider what I’m asking. “Nope.”

“Do you think people really do that? Outside of movies and books? I mean, I’ve heard a lot of stories about real-life sex before, and never once have any of my friends shared anything even resembling Rachel McAdams and Ryan Gosling.”

“That’s because all the stories you’ve heard probably have something to do with keg parties or Margarita Mondays at Alcapulco’s.”

I actually laugh out loud thinking there’s probably some truth to that. “You’re funny,” I tell him.

“As are you.” He scoops me up and brings me to him for the beginning of a make-out session that rivals our on-screen counterparts. Although, his shorts aren’t gathered at his ankles and I don’t feel picture frames digging into my back. But this … this is just as good. Matty slows our pace and presses his moistened lips to my swollen mouth, and I think, I want a man who loves me enough to nail me against the wall.

Eventually, Matty and I are sprawled out on my sofa, with my body on top of his and my knees on either side of his waist. My hair covers our faces like a curtain as I work kisses from his lips to his neck. His scent is clean and fresh, with the subtle hint of a citrusy cologne. He doesn’t bathe in it. I like that. I want access to his shoulders, his chest, but this damn shirt is in my way. Instead, I nip at his neck some more as I make my way back to his jaw line, strong and sharp. My mouth comes down on his and his tongue slides against mine in slow waves of pleasure. He pauses for a beat, sucking on my bottom lip. With a hand wrapped in my hair, he pulls gently, pushing my face upward to grant him access to my neck. My weakness. Kiss my neck and it’s all I can do to keep myself from letting go right now.

Matty continues to concentrate his efforts on my throat as my breathing races to almost panting. He has me where he wants me and I wouldn’t stop him even if I could. This is too damned hot. With one hand still tangled in my hair, his other is full of my ass, and with each tightened grasp, I can feel him pulse through me. I let out a moan. “Oh God, Matty,” I whisper, as he thrusts his hips upward showing me just how much he’s enjoying this too.

He moves his hand from my bottom, wraps it around my waist, and with one swift motion, he swings me around and now I’m beneath him. We sink into my sofa, and the pillows start to close in around us. It’s like Matty reads my mind. He lifts me once more, and takes me with him as he kneels to the floor. We nestle together, holding each other, and breathing heavily.

“You need a break?” he asks me, with a wink and a sly grin.

Chapter Eight

“Are you crazy?” Not like it’s really a question. “No way.” I take him by his neck and yank him down for another smooch.

“You’re my kind of woman.” He laughs into my ear, and then begins planting kisses on my neck and chest, tracing the outline of my v-neck shirt with his lips.

I bring my hands down to touch his ass. I fight the urge to lift my hips into him. Now that would be a bad idea. Moving along, I catch the edge of his shirt, and run fingers along his bare back. Stroking his soft, warm, dampened skin, I love the feel of his muscles in the palms of my hands. The more I explore, the more his shirt slides up his long torso. I tug on it. Matty understands me and with one hand, he yanks his shirt over his head.

I take a much needed pause to enjoy the sight before me. Pressing my hands to Matty’s chest, I tilt myself upward to graze his pecs with my lips. My lack of abdominal muscles sends me flat on my back wanting more. One side of his mouth rises in a smile, and his eyes crinkle at the edges. I smile back.

“You’re gorgeous, Matt Fuller.” His luscious mouth comes down on my neck again. I sense his teeth drag along my collarbone, and I arch my back, thrusting my hips into his swollen shaft. “You’re killing me, Matty.”

The heat in his eyes bears down on me. I know he feels the same.

“And you’re beautiful, Shelly Gelson. Just beautiful.” His soft lips brush against mine. He kisses my nose, and just underneath each of my eyes. “I love your little freckles. They make you even more beautiful.” His lips graze the same area again. “Each and every one.” He touches his lips to my mouth once more before he rolls over next to me, exhaling a deep breath.

Quickly, I prop up on my elbow and stare at him, lying there, breathing heavily, and leaving me hanging, but there’s that smile that has me undone. The silly grin on his face and the swell in his pants tells me he's enjoying himself as much as I am. “What are you doing?” I ask him. I said I didn’t need a break.

“Taking a breather,” he mutters, through a chuckle.

“Why?”

“Because you’re killing me too.”

Oh. I see. Not only are we enjoying ourselves, but we're also frustrating the hell out of each other—in the best way possible. “Uh. What should we do then?” I ask him, honestly. Although, if the throbbing between my legs and tenderness of my breasts is meant to go away, I'm going to have to get as far away from Matty as possible. Across the Pacific doesn't seem far enough to chill the sensations I'm experiencing.

He props himself up on his elbow too, just like me and rests his other hand on my waist. Caressing my back, he tells me, “We probably shouldn't do much more than this. For now anyway. Not until you’re ready.”

“Ready for sex? Matty, this isn’t my first time. I am ready for sex.” He rolls on his back laughing at my plea. I continue, “Why are you laughing at me, butthead? I’m serious.”

He clears his throat and grins at me. I lean over him, resting my chin on the backs of my hands on his chest. He plays with my hair, running strands through his fingers and then letting them fall.

“I know you are, Shel, but it doesn’t mean you’re ready here.” He taps on my temple. “When we make love for the first time, I want you to love me … entirely, and only me.” The thought crosses my mind. Do I love Matty? Of course I do. He’s Matty, my dear close friend. Someone who I might just want to be more than friends with. But, do I not love Chase anymore? That’s a tough question. Sometimes I think I always will. “Don’t over think this, Shel. I can see the wheels turning in your head. It’ll happen.”

“So you’re confident I’ll fall in love with you?” I ask, teasingly.

He pauses, staring into my eyes. “Never been so confident in anything or anyone in my life.” He kisses my nose.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” I utter.

“As a heart attack,” he says, with sincerity written all over his face.

I bite my lip. He is so dead serious. “So what now? Until then?” I ask. It’s a reasonable enough question to put out there at this point.

“This is fun. Reminds me of high school,” he tells me. We chuckle. “Although in high school I, at least, got to second base.”

“I think that can be arranged, Mr. Fuller,” I reply. I sit up and pull off my shirt, exposing my black lacy bra. It’s been awhile since I’ve dipped into my girly gear. I think I heard a cheer from my panties when I opened the drawer.

His eyes dart from mine to my breasts and back. “Uh, I think second base is just a little boob action … on top of clothes. Not under.”

“But this is high school remember. And you don’t have a shirt on. Peer pressure, you know. I don’t want to feel left out. Plus, if I don’t put out just a little bit, you might dump me tomorrow.”

“But we’re not a couple, remember. I can’t dump you.” His fingertips trail over my ribs and rest at my sides.

“Whatever, Matty.” I kiss his lips, before lightly dragging my tongue down his neck to his chest. This man is delicious. “Just go with it.”

And with that, we spend the next hour or so dry humping like teenagers on my living room floor. It feels good to be young again. Yeah right, if I had duct tape handy, I’d totally tie Matty up and have my way with him. Men are animals. It doesn’t matter what his brain is thinking. His other head has a mind of its own and would gladly stand at attention for me if I needed him to. But I don’t, have any tape that is. So I just enjoy the feeling of Matty’s hands exploring my curves and wait. Wait to see if he has a reason to be so confident.

“Put something in with shit getting blown up,” I mention, as he shuffles through my DVDs again. “No passionate love making against a wall, or we’ll never make it to the credits.”

“No kidding,” he agrees with a snicker.

“Hey, it’s not my fault you’re so irresistible,” I respond. He pauses for a beat, almost not long enough for me to notice but I do. “What?”

“Nothing,” he says, quickly looking from me back to the movies.

“No, tell me, sucka. What’s up?” I put my hand on his back.

“I was gonna say, if I’m so irresistible, it wouldn’t have taken you so long to notice me, but I stopped myself because I didn’t want to sound like a … ”

“Girl.” I finish the sentence for him. He shakes his head, embarrassed and runs his hand through his hair. I’m starting to catch on to his little nuances. He always reaches for his hair when he feels uncomfortable. It’s his own boyish way of blushing. “You’re anything but a girl. In fact, I think I felt proof of that earlier.” I move my hand from his back to his upper thigh.

He catches my hand on the way up. “Okay. Stop, Shel, or we might not get the damn movie started.”

We both laugh. I love this. Endless laughter, giddiness, butterflies doing somersaults in my belly. Cute. I could get used to having Matty around on a more permanent basis.

“You know what?” He drops the DVDs on the table. “We need food. Forget the movie. Let’s go eat.” He’s right. We haven’t eaten anything since the cereal this morning and it’s way past lunch time and I do believe we worked up quite an appetite.

“But I’m not dressed to go out.” I look down at my tee and yoga pants. Disclaimer: I don’t do yoga. Not since I tried it one time with Mel and we got kicked out for talking. I can’t shut up for five minutes, let alone sixty. And not when the 300-pound guy next to me is trying to fold himself into a pretzel while ridding his body of baby poop scented gas. Who can remain silent throughout that? Tell me, who?

“We can go through a drive-thru,” he suggests. “Unless you wanna eat more cereal?”

I take a second to consider this. “While the Crunch Berries are calling my name, I think we could use some fresh air. It smells like non-sex in here and it’s making me horny. Fresh air would be good.”

Matty holds out a hand to me. “Let’s go, horn dog.”

“Good idea. Let’s get some corn dogs.” I can almost taste the flavors in my mouth. “Wait a minute. I’m not sure I want to put something so phallic looking in my mouth right now.”

“You’re so dirty, Shel.” He shakes his head, yet again.

“Matty, do you need me to tone it down? My dirty mind shouldn’t come as a shock. I thought I could be myself around you.”

He slings his arm around me as we walk out of my house. “No, by all means, be yourself. I don’t want you to put on a show for me. But … if I’m going to watch you put anything phallic-like in your mouth, I sure as hell don’t want it to be a hot dog. So let’s get a burger.”

“I like the way you think,” I tell him. He winks at me as I duck into his car.

The first thing I do is take my cell out of my bag to text Mel. She’s probably going crazy trying to figure out what happened last night.

Me: matty slept over. No sex. were spndng day 2gthr.

Mel: what? NO Sex? why the f not?

Me: he wnts me 2 <3 him 1st

Mel: what a girl. wht r u doin now?

Me: getting food. wrkd up an appetite. making out like horny teenagers

Mel: love it! Is it true wht they say bout shoe size? ;) ;)

Me: idk. YET!!! lol

Chapter Nine

“Holy hell,” I say, watching my best friend step into my classroom. “You look like shit. Are you sure you’re okay to be back at work?” She’s had the flu since Sunday morning. Her face looks swollen, and she looks like she needs to sleep for another five days before she can even begin to appear rested.

“Are you frickin’ kidding? I’m dying to hear about your love fest with Matt. I couldn’t wait another day. I’ll be fine.” She plops herself in a chair next to me and rests her head on my desk. “Now spill. You have twenty minutes. Give me the short but detailed version, if there’s such a thing.”

Her voice sounds like she's plugging her nose, and I look at the can of Lysol on my file cabinet and have to stop myself from spraying her with it. I have no desire to get sick right now and put a damper on any future 'love fests' with Matty.

Taking a swig of my Diet Coke, I think a beer would be so much better for this story, but it will have to do. I take a deep breath before I recount the details beginning with Friday night when Mel left. I can’t give her the minute-by-minute play by play, but I’ll try my best.

“Here it goes. Friday night. He took me home. Thanks.” I nod at her, and she snickers. “Invited him in. Drank a beer. He kissed me. I questioned it. Not to worry. Just go with it. No strings attached. Invited him to stay. To sleep only. Slept in bed. Me in jammies. He in his boxers. Looked like Marky Mark ad, by the way. Woke up. He was gone. Almost died. He went to get breakfast. Got me Captain Crunch.” Mel gasps. I nod in agreement. “We ate. He decided to stay, be lazy, and watch movies. Started with The Notebook. Got steamy.” Mel’s eyes get wide. “I know,” I add. “So we kissed like crazy. Stopped. No sex till I’m in love with him.” We both roll our eyes. “Then Matty got to second base. We bumped bare chests, not uglies. Got some burgers. Watched The Shooter. Kissed again. Think my lips will be swollen for a month. Ate cereal and beer for dinner and a rice crispy for dessert. Slept together again. Only sleeping. Woke up and did a repeat of the day before. He went home early Monday morning to get ready for work.”

Done. I lean back in my chair, out of breath, and then take another drink of my soda to soothe my parched throat.

“Fucking awesome.” Mel dabs at the corners of her eyes with a tissue.

“Are you crying? Cut it out.” She’s so emotional all the time, crying at commercials or love songs on the radio.

She dabs again and asks, “What now? How’s work been?”

“He said he doesn’t want to crowd me. Or freak me out. So he’s staying away during the week. He wants me to miss him, I think. And it’s working. He might have lunch with me tomorrow.”

“Oh, Shelly, I’m so happy for you.” She rises out of her seat and hugs me. I hug her back, swaying back and forth. “I gotta run. I’ll call you later to keep your mind off him. You don’t want to start calling him right away and seem needy.”

“Too late. I called him before you got here. No games here. If I wanna talk to him, I’ll call him. If he can’t handle the real me, impatient and needy, then it’s not meant to be.”

“Good idea,” she says, leaving my room.

On my way out, I decide to stop in and check on Mel. She looked terrible today. Maybe she’ll let me cook dinner for her and Nick. What am I thinking? Of course she will. I’ll have to think about what I can throw together. I can’t go over there with a 12-pack and beer nuts to heal her.

“Hi,” I say to the stranger sitting at Mel’s desk. “Is Mrs. Cruz around?”

The older guy looks up. “She went home early. I subbed for her the last part of the day. I’m just finishing up my comments to her.”

“I see. Did her kids behave?” I can’t help but ask. Whenever I’m out, I’m always thinking about my class and how things are going, or not going.

“They were perfect. They didn’t even need me. Went straight to work without making a peep.”

“Great. Thank you. Enjoy the rest of your day.” Mel will be happy to hear this. There’s nothing better than coming back after a day off and finding out your classroom is still standing.

I make a pit stop at Rite Aid on the way to Mel’s. Walking up and down the aisle, I toss anything even remotely healing in my basket. Theraflu, Pepto, Tums (you never know), Motrin, cough drops, and some Nyquil (when all else fails, some decent rest always helps). I make another stop at a deli for some homemade chicken noodle and broccoli and cheese soup. And finally, I cruise through the drive-thru at Starbucks for a venti hot green tea with honey. I also add a few boxes of tea bags so I can refill her tea throughout the night.

Nick’s car’s not in the drive-way. I swear. Would it kill the guy to leave work early and take care of his wife? I use my key and let myself in. I drop all the stuff in the kitchen. I begin to empty the bags when I hear something. It sounds like sniffling. Not like stuffy nose sniffling, but crying.

I follow the sounds to the living room, and I find my best friend balled up on the couch weeping, with crumpled up tissues all around her. Mer Der, her Taco Bell pooch team, rest at her feet. Meredith, a light brown breed, springs her head to stare me down. She decides I'm not the culprit and rests her head back on Derek, the ruffly black dog who has a coat that gleams like silk. My focus turns back to Mel and my heart breaks at the sight of her. I’ve never seen her like this in my whole life. Sure, she snivels at least once a day during a TV show, or when she hears the national anthem. But this is different. She looks so sad.

I kneel down before her and my throat tightens. “Melly belly. I’m here.” I pause staring at her red nose. “Whatever it is, it’ll be okay.” I reach out to her, pushing her tear-soaked hair out of her face. Her eyes are even more swollen then before. And it hits me. She doesn’t have the flu at all. She never did. “What can I do? Do you wanna tell me what’s wrong? How can I fix it?”

I continue to stroke Mel’s hair while she sobs. Tears puddle in my eyes, and I can’t stop them from running down my cheeks. My best friend, who may as well be my sister, is hurting and I don’t know how to help. I don’t know if I can and it’s the worst feeling in the world.

She always manages to make me feel better whenever I’m down, which has been quite often in the last year, and here I am, at a loss. I don’t know what to do.

When Chase dumped me, Mel was there in a flash. And hardly left my side. I was broken and she was there to put me back together, when I didn’t think it could be done. She forced me to get back to normal after moping around for way too long.

Oh shit. It’s Nick. Mother fucker. I’m going to kill him. What the hell did he do? The only reason Mel would be in this state is because that fucking asshole did something. I’m going to kill him. I think I said that already. But I am. When I find him, he better run. He better have on a Kevlar vest, a cup, and a helmet, because first I’m going to shoot him, then I’m going to kick him in the balls, and finish him off with a bat to the head. Take that, dickhead.

Mel’s sobbing slows to a whimper as she tries to catch her breath. She holds my hand. She gazes down at me like she wants to tell me everything, but she’s not ready. She stares off in silence, and her eyes start to flutter before shutting completely. She sounds like a baby who’s cried herself to sleep. Trying not to wake her, I get comfortable sitting down beside her on the floor, still grasping her hand. I can’t let go. I’ll stay here as long as she needs me.

Hours later, Mel wakes me up, and I lift my head from the sofa cushion. Still holding her hand, I look up to her sorrow filled eyes. Mer Der are still at her feet, saddened eyes peering up at their mama. It must be true, dogs can sense when something is wrong.

“Are you ready to talk to me?” I ask her.

She looks up and dabs at her eyes with her free hand. “Nick and I are getting a divorce.” I don’t say anything. I just nod. “He’s moved out. Or rather, I kicked him out.” I nod again. I think I know what’s coming next. “He’s been cheating on me, Shel.” She squeezes my hand tighter. “For over a year. They’re getting married as soon as our divorce is final. He actually had the papers ready, and I signed them.”

Wow. This is more than I could have ever imagined. Sure, I had a feeling she was going to confide in me about him cheating. But divorce? Already? I wasn’t expecting that. And I sure as hell wasn’t expecting her to tell me Nick is going to marry his mistress already. While he hasn’t always been the most attentive husband, I wouldn’t have thought him to be a complete jack ass.

“Holy shit, Mel.” What else can I say? I sit up and throw my arms around my friend. She holds onto me, crying quietly into my shoulder. No more sobs and whimpering, just silent tears. After a few minutes, she releases me and I sit down next to her on the sofa, careful not to disturb her watch dogs.

“I found out Friday night. Although, I guess I’d always suspected.” Deep down, maybe I did too but I don’t share this with her. “After I left you with Matt, I called Nick. He said he had about a couple hours left of work and would pick us up some dessert on his way home. I was almost here when I thought I’d surprise him. Take dessert to him, you know.” God, I want to kill him. Or at least, chop off his sac. “So I got us some Ben & Jerry’s and went to his office. When I pulled in, I saw them. Nick and one of the other partners, who I know very well by the way. He had her pinned against her car. They had their arms around each other and they were talking. I parked across from them and a few cars down and they didn’t even notice me. They just went on about their business, without a care in the world that both of them were cheating bastards. Talking, kissing. I went from shocked, to disgusted, to hurt, to angry. I got out of the car, and walked over to them.”

“Oh, God!” My hands shoot up, covering my mouth. “What did you do?” The sound is muffled through my fingers but she hears me.

“I called him a fucking asshole, and I socked her in the face,” she explains. I glance down at her hand, and sure enough, I see the yellowed skin of healing bruises. “Just a little F.Y.I., no matter how much you want to, I wouldn’t recommend hitting someone. That shit hurt like a son of a bitch. But I didn’t let it show. No way. I told him he had an hour tops to get home, pack his shit, and get the fuck out. I walked back to the car and went home.”

“I’m so sorry, Melly,” I begin, but she cuts me off.

“He wasn’t but ten minutes behind me. Fucking bastard had the nerve to tell me he talked her out of pressing charges. Like I could give a fuck.” She rips tissues into pieces. “Before he packed, he gave me the gory details. They spend a lot of time together at work. More time than we do obviously.” She rolls her eyes. “He planned on telling me during winter break. He thought it would give me time to recover before getting back to work. How fucking considerate of him. He already had divorce papers drawn up, giving me a good chunk of change in alimony every month. He paid off the house, and he’s letting me keep it. My car too. He really took care of me. Like a fucking sugar daddy. Can’t complain, huh.” She throws her hands up. “So I’ll be alone now. Big fucking deal. It’s not like I wasn’t alone most of the time anyway. Now, I just don’t have to pick up anyone’s dry cleaning or shave my damn legs. I don’t even have to work if I don’t want to, he set me up that good.”

I give her a forced smile, not sure what to say.

“Well I think that sums it up. Got any questions?” she asks.

“Want some Nyquil?” I joke, trying to lighten up the mood.

“Huh?” She chuckles. So good to hear her laugh.

“I seriously thought you were sick so I stopped and got you some soup and about twenty different types of drugs. I can go get us some wine and chocolate.”

“What I really need is a shower. Don’t go anywhere okay, Shel. I’ll be right out.” She stands and starts plucking up pieces of tissue off the sofa. It looks like a Kleenex grenade went off in here.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll get this. Just go enjoy your shower. I’m not going anywhere.”

As soon as she disappears down the hall, I get to work cleaning up her mess of wadded up tears and folding the four blankets she tried to hide herself in. I also turn on some lights. The house is warm and dark, and she could use some light right now.

In the kitchen, I put my drugstore back into the bag so she’s not tempted to have a cocktail of pain killers, antihistamines, and cough syrup. I’ll just take these home with me. I get some bowls out to serve the soup, and open a bottle of wine for her. I look in her fridge but she’s out of beer. Shit. I guess I’ll just pretend to have a little class tonight so I pour myself a glass too. I take a sip and the dry bitterness irritates my taste buds.

I notice Mer Der's dishes are almost empty so I refil their water and open a new can of dog food, dividing it between both of their bowls. They must recognize the sound of the can opener or smell the food because I hear the tapping of their paws on the floor before they reach the kitchen. Once I put the containers on the floor, they go to work lapping up water and chomping at their dinner.

I can hear my cell buzzing in my bag. I fish it out and answer, “Hi.”

“Hey, Shel. Where you been? I tried to call you a few times. You’re not bugging out on me already, are you?” Matty’s voice is just what I needed to hear.

“Oh son of shitsicle, Matty. I’m kind of having a crisis right now. Mel’s … uh.” I’m not sure what to say. “Uh … Mel’s having some problems with Nick. So I’m here with her, trying to … I don’t know. I guess just being here for her. As much as I can be, I guess, without beer and chocolate.” I’m babbling, I know. But, what the hell can I say without telling him the whole story? It’s not mine to tell, even though I doubt Mel would mind if I told him.

“Oh. I’m sorry. Is she okay? Is there anything I can do?” he asks. I’m certain we could ask him for anything and he’d do what he could to make it happen. It’s just there isn’t anything. Unfortunately. I’m still not certain what I’m supposed to be doing.

“She’s doing the best she can. I’m just happy to hear your voice. Everything is a big fucking mess,” I explain, trying to get the words out as my throat tightens and tears threaten to spill down my cheeks.

“Well, you know I’m here if you need me. Call me, anytime. It doesn’t matter how late.”

“Okay, thanks, Matty. I’ll come by to visit you during lunch tomorrow.”

“Sounds good.”

“See you.”

“Bye.”

I really want to see him. I wish he could drop by for a quick hug and I think I’d feel much better.

Mel and I are just finishing dinner when I get a text from Matty.

Left you a surprise at Mel’s door. Hope this helps. C U 2mro! 

“Is that your hot piece of ass? You should go home and have him come over,” Mel tells me.

“You’re dumb. I’m staying here. He said he left us something,” I respond. I first go over to the window to see if he’s here. He’s not. Unless, he’s stalking us from far away with binoculars or something. Creepy. But I do see a bag on Mel’s welcome mat. I open the door and bend down to open the bag. Holy shit. Matty is my hero.

“What is it?” Mel asks, as I return with the bag.

“He brought you some more wine. Me some beer. And for both of us … chocolate and rice crispies,” I announce, taking each item out and setting them on the table.

“He's sharing his goods with me too. Did you tell him what happened?” Mel asks.

“No, I didn't,” I tell her, and explain I only said enough for him to know something was up.

“Oh, Shel, he better at least get a blow job for this,” she says, as she opens up another bottle of wine. We giggle, and it’s nice to know she hasn’t lost her sense of humor.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You better not screw this up. We’ve both had assholes in our lives. Matt is amazing. Don’t think he’s always going to be there waiting for you to make up your mind. Be good to him. He deserves it. And you deserve to allow yourself to be happy,” she scolds me with a stern look on her face.

“Thanks.” I pop the cap off my Hef. “I think.”

“Just don’t jack this up. I’m serious.” Her eyes are intense, and I know this means a lot to her. She’s right. Chase is an ass who dumped me. Nick is an ass who dumped her. I should be happy to have someone like Matty so interested in me.

“Don’t worry. I get the message. Now, shut up and give me some chocolate.” I grab a bag of little Dove bars out from under her.

She snags the bag out of my hands before I can stop her. “Your husband didn’t cheat on you and ask you for a divorce. You didn’t earn any chocolates. These are mine, beeyotch.” It’s good to see she’s eating. She’s lost weight this past week. It’s painfully obvious. The girl has always been a size four and rarely gains a pound. She eats like a sumo wrestler and has the metabolism of a speed freak. And without eating this week, she looks a size smaller. Thankfully, Matty’s chocolates will replenish some of the calories she’s in need of.

“Can’t argue with that. God, I wish I could’ve seen you punch her.” I look up trying to imagine what it would be like to see my best friend throw a right hook at some bimbo in a cheesy pant suit.

“You’re telling me. I wish I could see it on YouTube right now. How bad ass would that be?” We both snicker at the thought. “I wonder how many hits it’d get.”

“A ton. It’d probably trend on Twitter,” I say, laughing. Both Mel and I stuff a chocolate in our mouths and enjoy the melting sweetness with silence. I take one of the blue foiled treats in my hands, and stare at it, warm flutters move through my belly. I'll save this for later. Mel tosses me another little square chocolate, and I ask her, “Are you sure you’re alright? Is there something you want me to do?” She seems fine now, but I don’t think a shower can fix all the pain I walked in on earlier.

Mel downs the last of her wine. “I’ve been crying since Friday. I’ve been dying to talk to you about it and now that I have, I feel better. I already told my mom. I don’t need to personally tell anyone else, so I’m good.”

“You sure?”

“Totally. I can’t mourn this forever. It’s not like it was a shock. Fuck it. I’m gonna go out and find myself my own piece of ass.” I almost spit out my beer and she continues, “And not just one either. I can’t remember what it’s like to have good sex. I’m going to have fun remembering. I think I’ll find some young guys too. I’m not old enough to be a cougar, so you can call me a cheetah.” We both laugh, until Mel starts snorting.

“You’re crazy, Melly.”

“I’m serious. I’m gonna find some guy to set up camp with his face in my twat. All the twenty-somethings out there better watch out. This bitch is on the prowl.”

I raise my brows at her.

“Okay, late twenties. Nothing younger. I teach all day. I don’t want to have to teach at night too,” she says, unwrapping another chocolate.

“Alrighty then,” I say, wide-eyed.

“Hey, you wanna come with me to get a Brazilian?” she asks.

For the second time tonight, I almost spit out my beer. “Excuse me?”

“And I’m not talkin’ about the blowout either,” she says, trying to clear up any confusion on my part. I wasn’t confused though. I know exactly what she means. The idea of having all the hair ripped from down there just doesn’t sound appealing to me. I can barely handle the hurt of getting the lips on my face done, I can’t imagine waxing the lips down there too. I’d have to get an epidural or something to manage the pain. No thank you. And while I love my best friend and understand she’s feeling like crap right now, I really have no intention of holding her legs to her ears while someone plucks her like a chicken.

Somehow, I think Mel is going to survive this little bump in the road just fine.

Chapter Ten

I’m back to eating in the staff lounge. Mel is tired of being cooped up in our classrooms. “We need to be around people. Making fun of everyone will make me feel better,” she had said, pleading with me. Talking crap in private just isn’t fun enough for her. She likes to do it right in front of her assailant’s face. Everyone knows her, so it’s not like it’s a surprise to anyone. Most of the people she clowns on deserve it anyway.

Take Mr. Viagra—not his real name but really no man his age should be using it—for instance, he makes his rounds at all the tables with ladies at them. One day, he’s sitting with the fresh crop of just out of college teachers. The next day, he’s hitting on the secretaries. And the next, he’s paying some attention to the more “seasoned” teachers. Well, I guess he doesn’t discriminate. He thinks he’s some kind of Hugh Hefner though. How can you watch an old PE teacher like him, who’s been wearing the same polyester shorts since I was a student here, and not poke fun? Poke fun! Ha! Poke fun at Mr. Viagra. I crack myself up.

And guess what? Mel does feel better. A lot better. She is so much better at being dumped than I am. Her strength amazes me over and over again.

“I can’t wait for today to be over,” I tell Mel and Matty. “Two weeks without grading. Two weeks of just pure non-interrupted love of … ”

“Me.” I look over. Really? Chase sits next to me and says, “Sorry, I just couldn’t help it.”

I steal a glance at Matty, who doesn’t seem rattled in the slightest. “I was gonna say non-interrupted love of sleep. This morning, I wanted to throw my alarm against the wall. I’m so tired.”

“Well, if you weren’t having sleepovers during the week, maybe you could get some rest,” Mel says, winking at me. Matty grins. Okay, so we haven't kept to our hands-off during the work week agreement.

“How cute. You and Mel have been going old school staying up all night talking about boys and washing each other’s hair,” Chase replies, with his boyish little fake smile.

Mel shakes her head. “Oh no. Not me. I’m not the one sleeping over.”

“Who then?” Chase looks at me confused.

“I don’t think it’s any of your business.” I take a sip of my Diet Coke and sneak another peek at Matty. The left side of his mouth turns upward in a smile. I smile back at him, and take a bite of my Classic Chicken burrito from El Pollo Loco. Yummy.

Chase pounds his hand down on the table. “Well, I think it is.” People stop and stare at us. He glares at me. I catch a glimpse of Summer in the corner of my eye. She's yanking out my hair with her eyes, and I raise my hands, as if to say, I don't know what his problem is.

“Chase, stop acting like an ass,” Mel tells him. “Summer’s giving you the evil eye, so run along.”

She's giving me the stink eye, not him.

He slides his chair out and leaves.

“Dude, he is so stupid,” I say. I can’t believe I was in love with such an idiot. Wait. I can’t believe I am in love with that idiot. Am I still in love with him? No, I don’t think so. Or maybe. I don’t know. Or do I? Oh crap, I’m so confused.

My unsorted feelings for Chase are diminishing. I can see it, feel it. But something still hits me when I see him or hear his voice. I need it to go away. Quickly. So I can move on with my non-relationship with Matty.

“Thanks for not saying anything, Matty.” How he keeps his composure around Chase is beyond me.

“I told you, he doesn’t bother me. But, if he raises his voice to you again, I don’t care if we’re at work. I will say something. I won’t allow him to treat you badly.” Matty reaches over and puts his hand on mine. Without thinking, I yank my hand away. The look on his face kills me. Why did I do that? I’m so stupid.

Jacob, another history teacher, joins us, turning a chair backward and sits down with his hands resting on the back of the seat.

“Hey, what’s up?” he says, looking to each of us. I want to thank him for the distraction. Maybe Matty will forget I just snubbed him, unintentionally.

“Hi,” Mel says. “What are you up to?”

Matty and I nod at him.

“I just wanted to see what you’re up to during break, Shelly,” he says, and when I hear my name, my head pops up from my burrito to look at him. “I thought maybe we could get together.”

“Really?” I say. Am I being Punk’d? First Chase. Now this. Matty is going to stop talking to me.

“Yeah, really,” he says, smiling at me like we’re the only two people at the table.

Matty sits forward at the table and interrupts Jacob’s googly eyes. “I think it’s a fantastic idea,” he announces. What in the world. “Mel and I have been telling her for so long to get out and have a good time since … well, you know. Go for it, Shel.”

If looks could kill, Matty would drop dead right now. What’s he thinking? He can’t be thinking. No man in his right mind would send the girl he is not-seeing on a date with another man. But he’s asking for it.

“Sure, Jacob, why not? Call me,” I respond through gritted teeth. I take his cell from his hands and program my number in it.

“Great,” he says, rising to his feet. “I’ll call you later.”

The bell rings and we make our way out of the lounge. Mel seems as stunned as I do, speechless for the first time, and heading to the ladies room. Matty and I walk to our rooms. I wonder who will say something first. He’s not so here I go.

“What were you thinking?” I ask.

His silence is anything but golden.

“Matty, come on,” I urge him. “You just set me up on a date I don’t want to go on. I don’t want to see anyone else.”

“Yes, you do,” he says. “You’re going to question what we have until you know you’re not missing anything and until you get over Chase. So try it. I’m not worried. Go for it.”

“Fine, I’ll go, and when I’m home early from wherever Jacob takes me, you better be ready to let me prove to you how much I really don’t need to date anyone else,” I sneer, poking him in the chest.

“Wow, sounds good. Maybe you should go on a lot of dates with other men more often.” He leans over and whispers in my ear, “How exactly are you going to prove it to me?”

I nudge him back with my shoulder and laugh.

Matty is about to leave me at my door, but I stop him.

“About earlier,” I mutter. “I’m sorry I pulled my hand away from you. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

He smiles at me. “Hey, no worries. It’s too soon. See ya later, Shelly.”

And with that, he walks down the hall and I don’t take my eyes off him until he disappears into his room. He doesn’t turn back to look at me, even though I was hoping he would.

“Hey, about what happened at lunch today,” I start off with Matty as we get dinner ready at my place. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He seems a little quiet tonight.

“I already told you, don’t worry about it,” he says. “I know it was too much of a public display of affection for you at work. Since we’re not technically a couple.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. It’s just … I don’t know. I’m not ready yet.” Sounds like my theme song. I'm sick of hearing myself say those words, I can't even fathom how Matty feels.

“Hellooo,” he lingers on the word. “I’m really not bothered by it so relax.” He stops stirring the spaghetti and kisses my forehead. I guess he really is fine.

“Okay then. What should we do tonight? It’s Friday. We’re off for two weeks.” I put the plates and salad on the counter.

“I thought we could just hang out. I’m a little tired. We have the rest of break to do things.” Matty serves some pasta on each plate. I take them over to the table.

“Really? I was just thinking, we always stay home and chill. And we’re really good at it. We should try going out and see if we enjoy each other just as much. What do you think?” Matty serves the salad, and brings the bowls over too. I place a piece of garlic bread on each of our plates and we sit down to eat.

“Going out is the easy part. How hard is it to go to the movies or see a band with someone? That doesn’t require any talking or thinking. Sitting at home is the hard part. Having conversation without any other kind of entertainment is what a lot of couples fail at,” he explains to me. Makes sense.

“Hmm.” I consider this, looking at my ceiling fan spinning over us. “I think we got it down. We’re like a professional frickin’ couple in the communication department. We can talk all day and never run out of things to say. We talk while we make dinner.” I gesture to our table of food. “And while we eat.” I take a bite of my bread. “And while we kiss.” I lean over and pucker up my lips to him, crumbs coming out of my mouth. He bends forward anyway and plants a smooch on my lips. “Dang, we’re good.”

“Told ya.” He flashes his pearly whites, and we start eating dinner.

“So I guess tonight, we’ll just have to go to bed early since we’re both so tired and in dire need of relaxation.” I flutter my brows.

“You look dangerous. I’m not sure I want to get in bed with you. A guy can say no only so many times before his woman thinks he’s a tease.” He tugs me toward him and runs his fingers along the curves of my round face, brushing my bangs away from my eyes.

I tap my pointer finger on his chest, and say, “Don’t fool yourself, Matty. I thought you were a tease a long time ago.”

We both laugh and wrap each other up in an embrace so tender I could melt. With my face pressed against his chest, my breasts planted to his hard belly, I circle my arms around his torso and run my hands up his back until they settle on his firm shoulders. His scent tickles my senses and I let out a sigh, relaxing into his hold. Melting is such an understatement.

Matty brushes his lips against my cheek softly. He then mutters in my ear, “You got me. Let’s just clean this up and we can lie down and watch TV in bed.” I take a peek up at him, meeting his gaze. “And I mean watch it. Really,” he says, emphatically.

Lying in bed with Matty never gets old. You would think the newness and excitement would have worn off by now, but falling asleep with his strong arms around me is still as thrilling now as it was our first night together four months ago.

“I love this,” I tell him, hugging his waist and pulling him closer to me.

“Not enough,” he replies, kissing and stroking my hair.

“Not enough, what?” I say, pressing my lips to his shoulder.

“It’s not enough to love this.” He squeezes me. “I need you to love me.”

I kiss his chest. “I want to tell you I love you, but I just want to be sure. No doubts. I just need more time. Plus, you have me going on dates. Saying it would just seem so insincere. You deserve to have it all.”

“I know. So let’s just watch the movie.” He gestures to the TV on the wall in my bedroom.

“Alright,” I turn around and find my snuggly place in his arms. “Fine then.” I pout, jokingly. “But I don’t think he just wants to rest.” I say of Matty’s friend throbbing against my ass.

“He never wants to rest when you’re in the room,” he snickers.

“It’s because he’s happy I’m here, and wants to see me.” I turn around and cup his length in my palm. Matty gasps. “I can’t let him down.”

He tenses up. “You keep doing that, and he’ll go down sooner than you think.”

I run my hand up and down, over his boxers. “Well maybe that’s what he wants. Just a little acknowledgment so he knows I care and then he can relax.”

“You’re killing me, Shel,” he says, anxiously, with shoulders tense and his hand frozen in my hair.

Sitting up on my knees, I push Matty flat on his back. “I think I’ve heard that before,” I say, smirking at him. I touch my lips to the center of his chest and begin placing gentle kisses all the way down to his waistband. I slide my tongue along the edges of the material and nip at the sides of his V. I surprise myself when I tell him, “Lift your ass up.” He follows my orders, and I quickly yank down his undies before he can change his mind.

Matty puts his hands down to cover himself. Too cute, and I have to giggle. “What are you doing?” he asks.

I pull off my shirt and unclasp my bra. “I wanna be naked with you.” I lie down beside him, and bring my mouth to his. I kiss him, passionately and deeply. Our tongues dance together as I slide my hand down to take hold of Matty’s erection. He gasps again, but doesn’t stop me. I smile at this thought. He allows me to explore him for the first time since we’ve been non-dating. I start with slow strokes, letting my senses take in the smooth feeling in my hand. How it can be so soft and hard at the same time is amazing.

I find myself breathing harder as our kiss becomes more intense. Matty has one hand in my hair and his other brushes up and down my back. The feel of his warm touch makes me squirm with pleasure, and I can’t help but tighten my grasp on him. I quicken my pace, and he squeezes my back with a moan. Tearing away my mouth from his, I trail kisses along his neck and nip at his shoulder, all the while he finishes with a shudder or two. And a groan, or two. Or three or four.

I kiss him again on the lips and he presses my chest against his in a tight embrace, cupping my back with one strong hand and my behind with the other.

A beat later, Matty says into my hair, “Oops.”

“What do you mean, oops? I’m proud I can do that to you. Or for you.” I look in his eyes, smiling, and wiping my hand on my sheet, and dragging it over to him so he can clean up too. I almost stand up and take a bow, but I decide not to be so silly.

“Was it ever in question?” he asks, raising a brow at me.

“You never know,” I sing.

“Well then, I guess I better see if I do it for you?” I smile at him wondering how exactly to interpret his response. He flips me over and onto my back in one quick motion before I have the chance to protest.

“Excuse me?” I inquire.

“Just go with it, Shel.” His smile disappears into my neck. Oh holy goodness. He doesn’t need to do anything else. My neck is so sensitive, I could go any second. He knows just the right combination of lips and tongue to make my toes curl. He’s killing me with just his kisses. What’s it going to be like when I fall in love with him and we finally take the next step? Oh, wow.

Matty’s mouth makes a move to my breasts, bringing his hand up to grasp one while he holds my nipple between his teeth. Oh son of a lover. If my toes curl any tighter, I’ll get a cramp. His hands feel like they're branding me as they travel down my body, his lips trailing not too far behind. “What’s this?” he says, running his fingers along the band of my panties. “I thought you wanted to be naked with me.” Well I did want to be naked with him, but I didn’t want his bare man parts to bump against my bare woman parts because I might just die, for real.

But looking down into his eyes, I see a man with desire and I want his man parts all over my girl parts, and I don’t care how frustrated I’ll be when it doesn’t happen. Matty sits up, tugs on the sides of my panties, and slides them down my legs before tossing them on the floor. Thank God I shaved, is my first thought. My second thought is, Holy shit, Matty and I are completely naked in my bed.

Matty brushes his lips against mine and I catch his bottom lip sucking it softly until he tugs away. He works his way from my mouth to my jaw, and then gently traces kisses down the center of my chest, pausing at my navel, dragging his tongue along each of my hip bones, and continuing down to where he parts my legs and, oh my ...

“You know that doesn’t count right?” Matty tells me as we cuddle together in the aftermath of panting and howling, and hushed screams into a pillow.

“What’s that?” I utter, still trying to catch my breath.

“You telling me you loved me.” He laughs.

“Shut up,” I squeal, pulling a sheet over my head.

“’Oh God, Matty, I love you’ was great and all, but I have a feeling you were a little distracted.”

“Just a little,” I say, flipping back the covers to reveal my flushed cheeks.

“Oh God, Matty, I love you,” he repeats again, giddy with giggles.

I punch him in the arm, jokingly. “Let me do that to you and let’s see what comes out of your mouth.”

“Uh … no thanks,” he says, pulling me toward him. “I can't be responsible for what I might say if I saw those beautiful lips around me.”

“So you can do it to me but I can’t do it to you and we can’t have sex?” I question him.

He kisses my shoulder. “Yup, not until you’re in love with me.”

“Well with a performance like that, how can I not be? Holy son of a cunnilingus genius. I can’t remember … ” I stop myself from bringing up the past.

“What can’t you remember?” he asks me. I can’t lie to him. And I know he wouldn’t want me to.

“Let’s just say, the last time someone went there was in college.”

“Are you kidding me? You mean Chase didn’t?” He props himself on an elbow, obviously curious. I fall to my back with embarrassment. Matty settles himself in his familiar position with one arm around me. I look up at him and try to focus in the darkness.

“Nope, he did it once when we were younger, but since we got back together post-grad, he never did it again. This whole thing. Being naked together wasn’t … I don’t know. It was just different. Very simple.”

As hot as Chase is, you’d think sex with him would be sexy at the very least. But it wasn’t. Sure, he made me want him, but not like the fire I feel with Matty. Not even close. Chase and I were only nude with each other long enough to seal the deal, clean up, get our clothes back on, and go to sleep. I can’t ever imagine Chase smashing me against the wall. I don’t think he and I ever had sex anywhere other than a bed. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed making love to Chase, and I never yearned for anything else. Maybe because I didn’t know it could be anything other than what it was. I guess you never miss what you never had. But now that I’ve felt this undeniable chemistry, I doubt I’ll ever be satisfied with the in-and-out style I once knew.

He brushes his lips along my cheek. He has definitely shown me love and sex can be so much more than what I’ve been accustomed to. “I can’t wait for you to fall in love with me, Shel.” His lips meet mine, and warmth radiates my entire being.

“Neither can I,” I tell him, and completely mean it.

Chapter Eleven

Date night, or day. Whatever.

Why did I let Matty talk me into this? After our hot night of unclothed ecstasy, I was surprised he still wanted me to go out with Jacob. He tried to convince me our relationship needed it. I hope he knows what he’s talking about. I don’t want this to back fire on us.

What happens if Jacob is this amazing man, who casts a love spell on me, and I can’t tear my eyes away from him? What happens then?

Okay, so I’ve probably seen way too many movies, but a man can sweep a girl off her feet, right? Love at first date is possible. I think. Maybe Jacob will end up being the man of my dreams, assuming he drinks good beer and doesn’t smell badly, or something. But even then, there’s still another problem. He works with me. There is no way this will work out. I may have made an exception for Matty, but I refuse to do the same for anyone else.

Yet, here I am getting ready for a picnic for crying out loud. It’s winter, and we’re going to have lunch outdoors. Well it is 80 degrees out, but come on. I can’t remember the last time I went to the park. I’m more of an indoors girl. Any place with air conditioning is perfect. Any place I don’t have to worry about getting itchy from grass or bugs is also at the top of my list. What about me would give Jacob the impression that a day strolling along in a park—full of birthday parties and couples getting their pictures taken—would be my cup of tea?

Arriving at the park, it’s just like I had imagined. Each shelter is occupied with balloons and families, some have bounce houses nearby. A barefoot couple in jeans and white tees are near the lake posing for what I’d guess are engagement pictures for their save-the-date cards. Classic. When I finally take the plunge, I’m wearing a tutu for my photo shoot. I don’t think that one has been done.

Jacob is where he said he’d be. At the far end of the park beyond the hiking trail and under a giant oak tree. He’s sitting on a large red gingham blanket and has a little matching basket perched next to him. Is this really happening? If I watched this on the LMN, I’d probably be giddy and smiling at the TV, but in real life, it is unbelievably corny. I fight the urge to laugh, instead, muffling a loud chuckle with the back of my hand. I’m not sure if he sees me yet, and I don’t want to be rude. But I don’t see how I’m going to make it through lunch with this muscle man who is obviously trying to compensate in the gym for his ultra feminine side.

“Hey, Shel,” he says as he hops to his feet, and puts his hands on my shoulders.

“Hey,” I squeal back, as I turn my head quick enough for him to peck only my cheek.

He removes his hands and wipes them on the sides of his jeans as if trying to wash away my cooties.

Gesturing to the blanket, Jacob says, “Shall we sit?”

I guess we shall. I plop my bag down and kneel to the ground, sitting cross legged in front of him. He does the same and it dawns on me I haven’t seen a boy sit crisscross applesauce since we played Duck Duck Goose in elementary school. His jeans tighten around his muscular thighs and I notice the thin fabric of his shirt is hugging his chest and fits snuggly around his biceps. This Mario Lopez get-up is far from the button up camp shirts and khaki pants he wears to work. And he smells good too. Clean and minty, like I could pop him in my mouth like a piece of sweet mint gum.

“Are you checking me out?” Jacob asks snapping me from my thoughts.

My cheeks flush with heat, and I’m thankful I have my sunglasses on. I wave him off, with a low chuckle. “Don’t be silly. You checking me out?” I turn the tables on him. I have no idea what he’s been doing for the last ninety seconds while I was feasting on his firm body.

“I’ve been doing that for months,” he says with a grin.

My face warms again, and I don’t know what to say. I can’t imagine he’d make an ass out of himself gawking at me today. I’m just wearing a pair of jean capris and a tank with a purple shrug over it. Nothing too fancy, and not the slightest bit sexy. I applied minimal makeup and twisted my hair up in a clip. No frills at all.

I had no interest in coming out on this date so I wasn’t about to get all gussied up for Jacob. But now that I’ve had a chance to take in the sights, I’m rethinking that decision.

“You ready to eat?” Jacob asks, bringing the basket closer to him. I nod, and he pulls out a cloth napkin and hands it to me. Nice. Still corny, but cute.

Jacob opens the top of the basket and starts passing items to me. A plate, a bag of celery sticks, and what appears to be a sandwich wrapped in butcher paper.

“So what do we have here?” I ask him. Conversation doesn’t seem to be flowing freely. I’m thankful we can at least talk about food. I don’t want to strike up chitchat about work, so I’m hoping something else will come to me soon.

“A veggie wrap. I don’t eat animals, so it’s a spinach wrap with a variety of veggies tossed in a balsamic vinaigrette. You’ll love it. Won’t even miss the meat,” he says, tearing through the paper and wrapping his mouth around the burrito/sandwich for a ginormous bite.

I won’t miss the meat. Like hell I won’t. When I finally open the wrap, I peek inside at all the vegetables. Every color of bell peppers, spinach, cucumbers, beets, artichokes, and God only knows what else. Where’s the beef? I’m almost afraid to take a bite. My body might reject the healthy bits in my belly and puke it all up. I’ve never craved a Double Cheeseburger from McDonalds so much before in my whole life. Or a juicy T-bone, and I don’t even like steak. But I want one right now.

I glance at Jacob who is devouring his wrap with a playful grin. He chows down on it like I’d eat a piece of chocolate, like it’s making love to his taste buds. I crunch down on my first bite. The peppers leave a nasty flavor in my mouth and I’m grateful for the refreshing cucumbers or I’d probably gag. Oh, this is so not me. I’d much rather eat a PB & J.

We steal glances at each other in between bites, but there is a lack of interest and it’s starting to get uncomfortable. I decide to try my luck with the celery sticks because this veggie wrap is truly making me want to run to the supermarket for a pound of the fattiest ground beef in stock.

“Oh, I forgot. Are you thirsty?” he says, digging into the basket once again.

I nod through my crunching of celery, which is so hydrating I feel like I’m drinking a gallon of water.

Jacob looks to be concealing whatever he’s pouring into red plastic cups. Whew. Alcohol. Just what the doctor ordered. I lean forward to take a peek and I can’t hold back the laughter. I crack up so much I have to take off my glasses to wipe my eyes.

“What?” Jacob asks innocently. “What’s so funny?”

I almost fall back holding my stomach with big belly laughs that are on the verge of full blown snorting and wheezing. He looks at me like I’ve stabbed him in the heart, but I can’t help it. I try to calm myself and concentrate on long steady breaths.

I wipe my eyes again with my napkin and take one last deep breath before telling him, “I’m sorry. I just haven’t seen a wine cooler since I was in high school. I didn’t realize people still drank them.”

“Oh,” he murmurs. He finishes pouring our drinks and hands me one. He takes a swig of his own and lets out a sigh. “I guess I drank them in high school too, but never busted the habit. I’m not a fan of beer but I can totally go for a four pack of these.”

And here Matty is always concerned about sounding like a girl. Jacob definitely has him beat in that department. Red gingham, veggie wraps, and wine coolers.

Needless to say, I won’t be going on a date with Jacob again.

“Well, it’s official. Jacob is not the man of my dreams,” I tell Mel when I stop at her house on the way home from the park.

“Duh-uh,” she says, putting a beer and bottle opener before me. I crack off the top and down more than half the bottle.

“Do you have anything to eat? I’m starving,” I tell her, placing my head on her counter.

“I thought you were eating lunch,” she says. “Don’t tell me you were one of those kind of girls who only ate a salad?”

I lift my head to take another drink. “Oh no, I ate a veggie wrap and a handful of celery sticks.” I twirl my finger in a circle as if to say big whoop.

Mel leans back against her counter with a wine glass in her hand. “Veggie wrap?”

“Yes,” I groan. “He’s a vegetarian.” Mel almost spits out her wine. I wait for her to swallow what she has in her mouth before I tell her the rest. “And he drinks wine coolers.”

Her mouth drops in complete horror. “Yeah, I know,” I mutter.

She ambles to the fridge and whips out another beer for me. “You so deserve another one of these. And let’s order pizza.”

I down what’s left of my first beer, and swipe the other one from her hand. “Meat Lovers,” I tell her and we both laugh till Mel starts snorting.

Chapter Twelve

Matty and I spend most of the time leading up to Christmas at my house, messing around, watching movies, playing video games, and eating. Mel makes an appearance a few times, but for the most part we just exist … happily … together.

I’m clearing our dessert plates when Matty asks me, “So what are you doing for the holidays?”

“Going to my parent’s house on Christmas Eve, and then to Mel’s Christmas day. You?”

“I’m going to my folk’s house too. I’m actually gonna leave tomorrow and won’t be back until the day after Christmas,” he explains.

“Holy shit. I’m not gonna see you for four days.” My heart suddenly feels like a brick in my chest and I can’t believe I’m so affected by the thought of being away from Matty for such a short time. Four days really isn’t that long, but right now it feels like an eternity and he hasn’t even left yet.

Matty takes a spoon from my hand and places it in the sink. He faces me and runs his long fingers through my wavy hair. “Two really. I’m not gonna leave here until the morning and I’ll see you the day I come back.” He reels me in for a hug, and smacks a kiss on my mouth. It eases my heartache just a little, but not much. I’ve gotten so used to having him around, it’s going to be quiet and lonely without him. “You’re gonna be so busy with your parents and Mel, you won’t even miss me.”

“Fine,” I tell him, not entirely convinced. Resting my head on his chest, I soak in his familiar citrusy scent that brings the outdoors in to me. I gaze up into his sparkling blue eyes that crinkle at the edges and stretch my face toward his. He meets me the rest of the way for a kiss that’s soft and gentle but has enough heat to send sparks all the way down to my girl parts. “We better make tonight count then.”

And we do. Make it count.

Matty leaves my house in the morning to pack for his two-hour trip up the coast to see his parents.

“I miss him already,” I tell Mel over coffee and donuts.

“Oh, shut your ass. He’s been gone for like two seconds,” she sneers, chomping on a maple bar. No sympathy from her.

“Look at us,” I say, peering around my place. Not a single holiday decoration on display. “You wouldn’t know it’s Christmas time. I didn’t even decorate around here. Neither did you.” I didn’t put out stockings, I didn’t get a tree, and all the presents I have are wrapped in gift bags in the trunk of my car. The only thing representing the holidays is the dish of Dove chocolates on my coffee table. And that was just chance. I didn’t go shopping for chocolates in green and red foils.

She waves me off, taking a drink of her Amaretto splashed cup of Joe. “What the hell for? It’s not like I’m going to dig out all the shit by myself just for me. Too much trouble for nothing.”

She’s right. I nibble on my glazed donut, savoring every bite, trying to make it last as long as possible. “This is our first holiday without Chase and Nick. Weird huh?”

“It’s so fucking crazy. I can’t believe it. We’re gonna go home and everyone’s going to be hovering all over us, checking to see if we’re okay. People are gonna be talking shit, saying we can’t keep a man. I bet you some people think we’re lesbians.”

We both laugh so hard we snort.

“I really don’t look forward to my family asking questions,” I confide. “They’re all gonna say what a shock it was and they thought we’d be together forever. And they’re sure I’ll meet a decent man soon, yada yada yada.”

“Well, at least they’ll have something right,” Mel says.

“I don’t plan on telling them about Matty,” I respond. “I don’t want to jinx anything before it’s something.”

She shakes her head at me. “I’ve got news for you, Shel. It already is something. I don’t care what you’re calling it, or not calling it. You and Matty are a couple.”

“No, we’re not,” I shout. “We’re just seeing how things go. Until I’m ready. For sure. We’re not rushing anything. I’m even dating other people.” My mind flashes back to Jacob. And I smirk at the thought of wine coolers. He’s lucky we’re on vacation or it would have been all over school. He’d lose his man card for sure.

“Stop being a dumb ass. You guys practically live together, and you’re doing everything short of actual penetration, so I’d say you’re an effing couple. So stop being so scared and just go for it.” She pours another cup of coffee, heavy on the liquor.

“You’re not nice,” I pout, sticking out my bottom lip.

“Well, you’re not being nice to Matt. Put him out of his misery and just tell him you love him.”

I suck my lip back in and scrunch my face. Suddenly I feel like I’m in knots. “But I don’t know yet,” I screech. “He’s the first guy I’ve gone out with since Chase. How do I know he’s not just my rebound guy? How do I know he’s the one? I thought Chase was the one. Look how that turned out.”

“Chase was not the one. He was an ass who was convenient,” she says, picking out another donut from the pink box. This time a chocolate bar.

She did not just say that. I did not spend practically my entire life with a man out of convenience. We were good together. We were. Really.

Mel and I pull up to my parents’ house.

“You ready to be thrown to the wolves?” she asks me.

“Only if you are,” I respond.

“I’m not worried about your house. They’re gonna love me like always. I’m shitting my pants about tomorrow. My tías are gonna be all up in my masa,” she says, waving her hand around her face. No doubt they’re going to be in her business before she even walks in the door.

I put my hand up to high five her. “True that, sister. Let’s get this shiz over with, and then we can go back to my house and get drunk.”

She slaps my hand with hers and we take our first step up the walk of shame to my parents’ front door.

“Shelly, there you are. I was wondering when you were going to arrive,” my mother sneers, taking her first jab at me. I guess fifteen minutes isn’t considered fashionably late, it’s just rude by her standards. As if I didn’t know this already. But obviously, I don’t care. Oh well. I learned a long time ago, there is no pleasing this lady.

“Nice to see you too, Mother,” I say, and air kiss her cheek.

“Oh, Melissa, it’s so wonderful to see you. You look great, doesn’t she, Shel?” My mother gathers Mel in a dramatic embrace fit for TV when a mother gets reunited with her long lost daughter who she hasn’t seen since birth.

I roll my eyes. “Oh course she does.”

Mel winks at me. If we make it out of here without me strangling my mother, I’ll deserve a gold fucking medal.

My dad greets us next. He envelops me in a bear hug. “Hey, sweetie. It’s nice to see you.”

“Nice to see you too, Daddy,” I say, as he puts me down.

“Would it kill you to visit your old man more often?” he asks, gazing down at me from his big brown eyes.

I glance over at my mom. “It might.”

He gives me a disapproving look. He knows exactly what I mean, but always tries to play devil’s advocate where she’s concerned.

Dad turns his attention to Mel. “Hey, Melly, good to see you too. I haven’t seen Nick on the street yet, but when I do I plan on having a few words with him.” He holds up his fist to show us exactly what he means by words.

“Sounds good to me,” she says, hugging my father. “You can throw in an uppercut for me if you want. I won’t be mad at you.”

He winks at her, and says, “Well, I’ll leave you two fine ladies to mingle. For some strange reason, there are a lot more bachelors here than usual.”

My dad bends down to whisper in my ear, “But word is you're doing fine in the boy department. I'm really happy about this. I've always liked Fuller.”

I'm going to kill my brother when I see him.

My dad walks away and I whip my head around to see Mel with her mouth hanging open.

“It wasn't me,” she says.

“I know exactly who it was,” I tell her. “Ugh. And now my mom is trying to marry us off too.”

Mel and I look at each other, and I frown in fear.

“I’ll save you if you save me. I can’t believe my mother is plotting already,” I tell Mel, as I take her arm for protection. I really don’t feel like meeting any bachelors right now.

“You got it,” she says. “But, hey, I don’t have a Matty waiting for me at home. So I may not need saving.” She raises her brows at me and I jokingly smack her arm. She doesn’t want to get involved with anyone my mother would deem appropriate. She’s had plenty of that nonsense with Nick.

We make our way into the dining room to scope out the food. My mother always out does herself for Christmas: turkey, roast, mashed potatoes, too many casseroles to count, and about fifty different types of baked desserts. I don’t know how I didn’t learn how to cook like her. Oh wait, yes I do. I’d have to be able to tolerate her long enough to actually learn from her. During the eighteen years I spent in this house, according to her, I never poured a bowl of cereal correctly.

During the holidays, I would always try to help my mother in the kitchen at the request of my dad, but she always scoffed at how I did things. Cracking an egg with two hands instead of one. Using a slotted spoon instead of a ladle. Cooking with vegetable oil when she would have used extra virgin olive oil. I could never do anything right. When I finally moved out, I did try to come over early to help out but eventually it got to the point where I am today. Showing up when everything is ready makes it a lot easier on me, and I bet on my mom too since she doesn’t have to sneer at all the shortcomings her very own daughter has in the kitchen.

“Oh, Shel, use a small plate,” my mother whispers, taking my dinner plate from my hands, and replacing it with a salad-sized one. “You look like you’ve gained a few pounds.” I won’t admit she’s right to her face, but she probably is. I haven’t had time for my regular exercise routine since Matty.

“Thanks for looking out for me, Mother,” I sneer. I take her miniature plate and start piling things on.

“Hey, little sister,” Tyler says. “Looks like you can use this.” Thank God for my brother. What appears to be a plain Coke is actually spiked with rum. I can’t very well go walking around with a bottle of beer in my hand. What would the Stepford mother think? She’d probably faint at the sight.

“Oh, dear God, Ty, I love you.” I take the drink from his hands and chug away, ignoring the burn in my throat and the bubbles exploding near my nose.

“But I'm pissed at you.” I smack him in the arm.

“What'd I do?” he shrieks.

“You told dad about Matty,” I squeal.

Ty rubs his forehead, “He was worried about you so I told him someone was making you feel better these days. He says he's met him before and likes him.”

On the rare occasion I mixed family and friends for birthday parties or holidays, Matty had a chance to meet my easygoing dad and my overbearing mother.

“I'm sorry. You still love me?” he asks, batting his lashes.

“Yes,” I concede. I rarely get to see him, so I can't stay mad at him for long.

“I know,” he says, giving me a brotherly squeeze. “How ya been? How are the kiddos treating you?”

“They’re all right. I have a really good group this year,” I tell him. “You?”

My brother lives up north. For the most part, we communicate through email and text messages. “I have a lot of talent this year. I’m finally teaching mostly advanced classes so I get to see some really mature work.”

Being a high school art teacher was my brother’s goal since his passion developed in the tenth grade. He does a lot with his students. They have art shows at their school, and he really goes above and beyond anything I’ve seen before. And his own work is great. I can barely draw a stick figure. I’m so jealous of his talent. Maybe jealous is the wrong word. I’m more like in awe of him.

“How wonderful. I’m so proud of you,” I squeal. I’m so the typical little sister who adores her big brother. He’s never given me any reason not to.

“Thanks, sis,” he says, ruffling my hair like I’m still five years old.

I take the last sip of my drink, and shake the ice around. “Why don’t you go fetch me another drink though? I’ve been here for less than thirty minutes and mom has already shit on me twice.”

“Two times. That’s it?” he teases. “She’s getting soft in her old age.”

“Make that two drinks,” Mel says.

Tyler swoops her up in a giant embrace. “Melly belly. Hi.”

“Hey, Ty Ty,” she yelps. “When are you gonna transfer down here and get your ass back to town. You know, all the local schools have art programs, don’t you?” she says sarcastically.

“No way. Look at the air here. I can’t imagine painting in this gloom every day. It’d be so depressing.” He contorts his face in disgust. “But I hear they teach English at my school. You could always transfer up there.” He winks at her.

“Oh hell, get a room.” I look at them, still in each other’s arms and walk away to get my own damn drink. Those two have been flirting like crazy since we were in high school. I always thought Mel would eventually become my sister-in-law, but when we went off to college, she met Nick. Now that dipshit Nick is out of the picture, Tyler lives about six hours away. Their timing couldn’t be more off.

Maybe there’s still hope. Okay, probably not but I’ve always thought they’d make such a cute couple. Mel could probably fit in his pocket, she’s so tiny in comparison. She’s this stylish little pixy girl, and my brother is tall, thin, and a casual artsy guy. Her designer boots with his worn Chucks would clash if it were any other couple, but they’re individuality just complements each other. I can just picture their coffee table sprinkled with a mixture of the classics and technical books on various forms of brush strokes. She’s really loud and brazen, and he’s a major goofball. And they’re both my best friends.

Dad was right. There are a lot of single men here. I take a glance at a few who look familiar but can’t place their names. Probably sons of my mother’s friends. Just one look at their choice in beverages and I know they’re not for me. Go figure. All the eligible guys in my mom’s rolodex would be either wine or piss beer drinkers.

Maybe I should rethink my strategy. Not. It’s working so far. No need to shake things up just yet.

“Shelly, dear, I’ve been looking all over for you.” It’s not like it’d be hard to find me, this isn’t a mansion. My mother hooks her arm in mine. “I have some friends I’d like you to meet.”

“Mother, I really don’t want to meet a slew of horny bankers,” I snicker.

She gives me a look of disapproval and I know she couldn’t care less what I want.

“Mother, really. If and when I’m ready to meet someone, I can do it on my own,” I say, slowing my stride, hoping she’ll cut me loose.

“And look how well doing it on your own turned out for you,” she barks. “You’re almost forty. If I’m going to ever have grandchildren, I’m going to have to take matters into my own hands.”

“Forty? Do you have some other daughter I don’t know about. I’m barely over thirty. And who said anything about making babies?” The thought of letting my own children be poisoned by this women makes me sick. I swear, if I ever have my own kids, I will be nothing like her. Nothing.

“Shush, now,” is all she says.

Losing the battle to spring free, we make our way onto the patio and my mother begins her parade of men.

“You remember Michael, don’t you?” she says, as if it’s a real question.

Michael puts out his hand, and I take it to be considerate. I almost gag when he brings it to his lips for a kiss. Gross. I need to wash the back of my hand later. His Tom Seleck mustache takes me back to the 80s. Not even a goatee, just a mustache.

“And this is, Kevin.” She whisks me off to the next gentlemen who seems shy. He nods, pushing his glasses up on his nose. He’s cute. And no stache in sight. Whew.

I put my hand out to him, and he shakes it with about as much force as a newborn puppy. “Nice to meet you, Kevin.” I could just stay here and talk to Waldo all night. He seems harmless. I don’t know how he made it past my mother’s checklist. His mom probably lied to her. He seems a lot more appealing than the rest of these idiots in suits. C’mon, this isn’t a business meeting. Just a family party.

“Move along now, Shelly,” my mother kindly whispers in my ear.

“I’ll be back, Kevin,” I say, winking at him.

“Oh no you won’t.” She pinches the inside of my arm. Son of a testicle. That effing hurt. Seriously, she wants me to meet these losers with tears welling up in my eyes. The sting penetrates my entire arm and I want to punch her.

“Mother, if you do that again, I’m leaving,” I whisper through gritted teeth and I have to do battle with my senses so I don’t pinch her back.

She ignores me, of course. “Oh, Gordon, I’m so glad you were able to make it. Your mom wasn’t sure you would with all the traffic coming in from Santa Barbara.” Gordon—oh no!—takes my mother’s hands in his and gives her this “all mothers love me” grin, and he kisses both her cheeks. Gag me. “This is my daughter, Shelly. She’s a high school English teacher.” And then my mother disappears. Really? This is who you leave me with Mother? Gordon? There are still at least four remaining bachelors and Gordon is the best she could do.

So the name isn’t exactly becoming of him. He’s not exactly what you’d picture—short, almost bald, and a bit on the chubby side—with a name like Gordon. He is, in fact, over six feet tall. He’s really hulking over me like the Empire State building. He’s also pretty built. I bet underneath his suit he doesn’t have an ounce of fat on him. He just exudes this kind of arrogance. Even without him saying a word, I’m already annoyed.

“So you’re a teacher?” he asks, as if he needs clarification.

“Yes, I am,” I state.

“Hmf,” he grunts. “Very admirable.”

I doubt he means it. “I don’t do it for admiration.”

“Yeah, well you know how the saying goes, ‘those who can, do it, those who can’t … .” Luckily for him, he doesn’t finish his sentence. Asshole. “Let me get you a drink, Shelly.” Gordon steps away for a second and returns with a glass of champagne. Oh fuck me.

I miss my chance to get away. “Oh, no, thank you, champagne gives me a headache.” I smile, fluttering my eyelashes up at him. I wonder if he can tell I’m being bitchy.

“Okay, what can I get for you then?” he asks.

“How about a beer?” I respond. “Something in a can. I think I have a pen in my bag. Bring one for yourself. We can shot gun’em.”

“Oh cool,” Mel says, swooping in from behind me. “I think I have a funnel. We can totally beer bong it.”

Tyler puts his arm around Mel, and adds his two cents, “Count me in. But only if you guys do the thing where you do a hand stand at the same time.”

Gordon looks confused, or scared, and walks away.

We watch him walk into the house before we all bust up laughing. Mel starts to snort, and so does Ty.

“That was effing hilarious,” I tell them. “Thank you.”

“Mom is funny. That guy is way too uptight for you,” Tyler says.

Mel adds, “And you didn’t even throw in any of your f-bombs. He would’ve probably run away if he heard your typical flare for words.”

“What the fuck are you bitches talking about?” I joke.

We all laugh some more.

“Is it time to go home and get drunk yet?” I ask them.

“Let’s roll,” Tyler says. “I’m crashing at your place. There’s no way in hell I’m staying here.”

“Don’t forget your flannel jammies your mama bought you,” Mel teases him.

“I won’t. I’ll even get your Pepto pink sweater with the pearly buttons too,” he dishes back.

I roll my eyes at them. “I swear, you guys just need to screw and get it over with.”

Tyler raises his brows at Mel, “Now that’s what I call a Christmas present.”

Mel puts her hand on his chest, “Hmm. I think that can be arranged, Mr. Gelson.” She stands on her tiptoes and kisses his cheek. “But just one question: have you been a good boy this year?”

I think I just threw up in my mouth.

Chapter Thirteen

“You guys better hurry up or we’re going to be really late,” I yell, pounding on the door to the bathroom. I can’t believe my best friend and my brother are both in there. I take that back. Yes, I can.

Mel steps out first, wrapped in a towel, and runs to my room.

I shout to her, “What? No walk of shame. Just running around my house naked with my bro. Shit, you guys aren’t even discreet.”

“I’ll be right out. I’m just gonna get my clothes on. I’ll do my makeup in the car,” Mel yells back, and shuts the door.

“I’m ready,” Tyler says nonchalantly as he makes his way to my living room. He sits on the sofa next to me, kicks up his big black Chucks on my coffee table, like it’s no big thing he was just showering with my best friend. “You look nice, sis.”

“You clean up well too, bro. I take it you’re coming with us today?”

“Mel invited me, so why not. Beats going back and visiting with Mom,” he says, tapping his feet on the floor. He always does this when he’s nervous.

“You better not be fucking with her Tyler or I’ll whoop your ass. She’s a little fragile right now,” I try to explain.

“Mel? Fragile? You obviously don’t know you’re best friend as well as I do,” he begins.

“I would hope not,” I interrupt, rolling my eyes.

“Yeah. Anyway, she’s fine. It’s not like this hasn’t been coming for a long time. You can’t tell me you’re shocked we finally ... well you know,” he says.

I completely understand what he’s saying but it doesn’t make it right. “Yeah, but I thought when it did, it would be a little more permanent. Not a Christmas present you play with and then return. It’s gonna suck for her when you leave.” It’s only been a full day since I’ve seen Matty and it sucks, even though I know he’s coming back tomorrow. When Ty leaves, who knows when he’ll be back.

Mel comes out and plops herself in Ty’s lap. “I’ll be fine, Shel. Don’t worry. It’s all good.” Her eyes are sincere and I don’t sense any worry coming from her. My brother gives me a look like, see I told you.

Tyler taps her on the ass. “You look great too, Melly Belly. You ready?”

She jumps up and throws her hands in the air. “Let’s go to my casa. Feliz Navidad.”

As we walk up the path to Mel’s parents’ house, she takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. “Wish me luck.”

She’s gonna need it. Her aunts can be brutal.

“So you think your mom is gonna have a lot of hot men here to choose from?” I ask, jokingly. “I totally forgot to get Kevin’s number last night.” Okay, so I wouldn’t have called him. Or maybe I would have. He seems like he’d be a cool guy to talk to, but not really anything beyond friendship.

“I thought you were seeing someone,” Tyler questions me.

I shake my head. “No no. Matty and I aren't exclusive. I can still date other people if I want. If I find someone. No biggie.”

“Right,” Tyler says nodding slowly, not buying a word of it.

If I can’t convince other people Matty and I aren’t a couple, how can I convince myself? To be honest, I miss him so much. I haven’t talked to him since he left, and my bed feels so empty. I wish I could snuggle up to him and just sleep for hours. I’m tired and I need him with me.

Fuck it. I take out my phone and text him.

Miss u. Can’t wait till 2mro 2 c u. P.S. Mel is doing my bro. ;p

I flip my cell shut and follow Mel and Ty inside the house.

We immediately greet the family with hugs and kisses. This is how Mel’s family does it. Even if you don’t know every single one of them. It takes about an hour to say hello when you arrive and about an hour to say goodbye. It’s considered very rude not to follow this tradition. And I sure as hell don’t want to be the white girl to offend them. Although, after twenty two years of being an honorary member of Mel’s family, I don’t think they consider me the white girl anymore.

After hugging every aunt, uncle, cousin, and grandma, we finally meet up with Mel’s mom.

“Melissa, thank God you’re finally here. I need your help in the kitchen,” Mel’s mom says. She gives her mom a kiss on the cheek and disappears down the hall. So different from my mom. Mel is actually happy to see her. “Hi, Shelly, thanks for coming. It’s so nice to see you as always. And, Tyler, look at you. You’ve grown into such a handsome man. I’m glad you could join us too. Now make sure you grab a plate and get plenty to eat. Okay.” Plenty to eat. Did you hear that? I can eat as much as I want.

Tyler and I both share a hug with Mel’s mom. “Thanks for having us,” I tell her. “I can’t wait to get my hands on some tamales. Did you make some sweet ones this year?”

“Especially for you,” she tells me, poking her finger on my nose. Oh, I could hug her again. Why can’t my mother love me like this? She just poked me on the nose. Aww. I think Mel’s parents forget we’re grown adults sometimes. But it’s very endearing. At least she didn’t tell me I’m fat and try to stiff me with a salad plate.

Tyler and I take turns opening our tamales and ridding them of the wax paper and corn husks. We both get some rice and beans too. This is a whole different kind of deliciousness. I loved my mom’s cooking yesterday, but it’s Mel’s family cooking I crave every year.

“There’s a few seats right there.” I gesture to Tyler and he follows me.

“Is Mel gonna eat with us,” he asks.

“Not if she wants to live.” I shove a mouthful of rice and beans in my mouth. Oh goodness, I don’t need Matty. I want to fill my bedroom with this stuff and eat it all night, making snow angels in a bed of refried beans. “She’ll be in there for awhile, flipping tortillas and making eggs. I’m not quite sure when all the women eat. I guess they just eat and cook at the same time.”

“Why do you get to eat?”

“Because I’m a guest.” I take another bite of my tamale. I’m in love.

Tyler still hasn’t touched his food. He looks in the kitchen. From where we’re sitting we can see Mel hovering over the stove, and chatting with the ladies.

“Ty, just eat. She’s fine. This is time for all of them to catch up. They actually enjoy it.” I pause, gazing up at the ceiling in thought. Considering the latest events with Nick, this probably isn’t very enjoyable for Mel. “Most of the time anyway. Eat, and I’ll go check on her in a minute.”

Tyler looks like he’s about to consume his last meal. Give me a break. They were together one effing night and he’s already pussy whipped. What a wimp my brother is.

I suck down the rest of my food and walk into the hen’s den, leaving my brother alone to pout like a love sick puppy.

“Hola, chicas,” I say, as I throw my plate in the trash. “How you all doing?”

Mel looks at me with a plea for help. “My aunties here are grilling me on the details of my wonderful divorce.”

“Cool. So are we all in agreement the settlement should include Nick getting his balls chopped off?” I chuckle, but the others aren’t laughing. Ha, they would be if this was dinner time. But it’s breakfast and we all haven’t started drinking yet. Unless you count the Bloody Mary’s, but I think the men are the only ones throwing those back.

“Nice try, Shel, but in this house, apparently it is my fault Nick was screwing a woman at work. I must not have been doing enough to keep my husband satisfied,” Mel sneers as she flips tortillas.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, they also think I’m going to go into the poor house because I can’t possibly take care of myself.” Mel is seething mad right now.

“That’s not true. Mel and I make the same amount and I live on my own just fine. Plus, Nick knows how much of an asshole he is so he left her with plenty of money. She doesn’t even need to work,” I try to explain.

“That’s what I tried to tell them,” she cries out, tossing the warm tortillas in a dish on the counter.

One of her aunts throws her hands up. “Ay, what will the church say?”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass what the church says,” Mel yells. “If the church is so concerned about my marriage, why didn’t they pray my husband would keep his dick in his pants?” She throws a towel on the counter and walks away.

“Ooo, you’re in trouble now,” I say as I follow her out.

Mel sits down next to Tyler and takes a tamale off his plate. “It’s about time you get to eat,” he says.

She chomps off a piece and utters through a mouthful, “That’s what I’m saying. They can handle the rest.” She breaks off a corner of the masa and dips it into Tyler’s beans. “How long have we been here?” she asks.

Tyler looks at his watch. “Almost two hours.” He holds out his plate to her as she finishes chowing down.

“Long enough. Let’s go,” she announces wiping her hands and face with her apron.

I put my hand on her shoulder. “Melly, calm down. It’s Christmas. You haven’t even opened presents with your family. And your dad hasn’t stopped by yet.” Mel’s dad is a police officer, and he’s on duty. At anytime he could stop in to wish the family a happy holidays and I know she wouldn’t want to miss it.

She leans back in her chair with a sigh. “We’ll stay till my dad gets here, and then we’re gonna go.”

We both nod in agreement.

Tyler asks, “Mel, you want me to fix you something else? You didn’t eat much.”

“Are you kidding? Do you want them to talk more shit? If anything, I should have fixed your plate,” she complains. “Did you guys get something to drink? I need some wine.”

“I’ll get the drinks,” I offer.

When I get back from pouring Mel a glass of wine and digging up two beers for Tyler and me, she’s explaining to him the archaic ideals her family has about how women are supposed to serve their men. Mel rarely served Nick. They always just got their own stuff. But it’s not like Nick would have wanted her to anyway. He’s not very traditional in that sense. And Ty won’t be either. He will surely take care of all her needs before he ever tends to his own.

Limiting myself to one beer sucks but Mel needs the booze more than I do. I guess being the designated driver has it’s perks though. I don’t have to worry about peeing every fifteen minutes. Once the seal is broken, it’s like a never ending flood, and Mel has made many trips to the little girl's room to prove it.

“Daddy’s here,” Mel’s mom tells us as she passes by.

We walk outside and as usual, Mel’s dad is flashing lights and blaring different sirens. He does this for all the little kids. I can remember getting so excited when we were young and he’d put on a show. Actually, it still is a bit thrilling.

Growing up with Mel as a best friend kept us out of a lot of trouble. There were many times when we were about to do something stupid and the thought of getting arrested by one of her dad’s friends, or worse, her dad, was enough to make us do the right thing. We were by no means angels, but we did opt out of some good times in fear of Mel’s dad. But we opted in on some good times to piss off my mother.

“Hi, honey, Merry Christmas,” Mel’s dad says as he heads our way. He stops in front of her and hugs her with a tear in his eye. Daddy’s little girl. Always.

“Hi, Daddy,” she says, wrapping her arms around him. “Merry Christmas to you. Wish you could stay and enjoy it.”

“Sorry honey, you know the drill,” he says. “Hey, Shel, hey, Tyler. Good to see you.” He hugs me and shakes Ty’s hand. “I’m gonna go see your mother. Come for dinner next week, okay.” Mel nods, and he finds Mel’s mom waiting for him on the porch.

We all look at Mel’s parents in awe. After all these years, they still look like they fell in love just yesterday.

“I want a man to look at me like that,” I say, not even realizing my words are said aloud.

“You already have one, beeyotch. You’re just being a frickin’ pansy about it,” she scolds me. I don’t have time to respond because she whips off her apron and tosses it at one of her little cousins. “Okay, let’s go before anyone notices.”

“We can’t. We have to say goodbye to everybody,” I remind her.

“Forget it. I’ll call my mom in a few and tell her Tyler had diarrhea and we had to leave quickly.”

Tyler gives her a questioning look. “Why do I have to be the one to get the shits? Did you see how much Shel ate? That would be more believable.”

“Gee thanks big, bro.”

“Who cares. Shel, go get our bags and meet us at the car. Don’t let anyone stop you to talk. You need to do this shit Mission Impossible style or we’ll never get out of here.”

We’re finally home and it’s only then when I get a text back from Matty. It’s about time.

Miss u 2. I’ll b bk 2nite.

Chapter Fourteen

“Matty’s coming home,” I sing. “Matty’s coming home.” I chant this as I run around the living room. I jump up on my ottoman and do the Cabbage Patch dance as Mel and Tyler stare at me from the sofa. “Matty’s coming home.” Out of breath, I have to stop doing the Running Man. I collapse to the floor and try to calm myself.

“Maybe we should go to your place,” Tyler says to Mel.

“No way. I want you to meet him,” I say.

“Um. I don’t think so. I really don’t want to be a room away from my baby sister doing the nasty.”

Mel chimes in, “They’re not doing it.” He looks at her confused. “I know. It’s this agreement they have. And you gotta remember. They’re not a couple.” She holds up her air quotes for emphasis.

An hour later, Matty arrives bearing gifts. Four pints of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream, all in different flavors. Mel and I fight over the Chocolate Fudge Brownie. I win since my friend brought the goods. She takes the Cherry Garcia. Matty let’s Tyler choose from the last two, and he goes for some cookie dough brownie concoction. Matty is left with a mint Oreo duo.

“Damn, sis, tell the guy you love him already.” Tyler says, devouring his ice cream. “I do.”

“Haha,” Matty chuckles. “She told you, huh.”

“Mel did,” Tyler responds.

“So what’s going on with you two anyway?” Matty asks them.

But I answer. “About twenty years of pent up sexual tension, finally released. It was bound to happen eventually, I guess.”

Matty slides the spoon from his mouth, and I want to taste his lips right now. “It’s funny how you talk about it, Shel. It doesn’t bother you that your bestie and your brother are hooking up?” I shake my head. Of course not. “But I doubt Tyler would let his best friend anywhere near his little sister.”

“No fucking way. I’d kill’em,” Ty says, with a loud chuckle.

“You guys are funny. You look alike and you have the same choice of words,” Matty tells us. We do look alike. We have the same green eyes, small nose, and brownish hair. Although, his is a little more on the blond side. I have more freckles than he does though, on my nose and under my eyes, if you look really close. Ty has none. He got the height though, taking after my dad. My petite frame came from my mom.

Mel loves his perfectly gelled hair, and the tiny mole he has under his right eye.

I’ve never really thought about the way we talk though. Pretty soon, Matty’s going to be cursing every other word too.

“So, you’re my sister’s friend? Not her boyfriend, but you stay over every night?” Tyler begins the inquisition.

“I guess you could put it like that,” Matty says.

I toss a pillow at Ty. “What are you? Dad, or something?”

“It’s okay Shel,” Matty says, patting my leg.

“Well, it just seems a little weird you’re here with her every day. You’re not having sex, supposedly. And you’re okay with her going out with other guys. It’s just odd,” Tyler continues.

“It’s not like she’s gone out with anyone I need to be worried about.”

I butt in, “But I could if I wanted to.”

“Sure,” he pats my leg again.

“Why do you say it like that? You don’t think I can find a decent guy to go out with me? Someone who would be worthy enough to make you worry?” I ask him.

Matty responds, “It’s not like that, Shel. I think plenty of guys would want to go out with you, but it’s not like you’re looking. And look at Jacob, you didn’t even give him a chance. Not that I wanted you to. I just don’t think you’re really into finding someone else.”

“Yeah, you should have seen her last night. My mom tried to hook her up with some guy in a suit and Shel scared him away with talk about beer bongs,” Ty explains through a light laugh.

“I didn’t mention beer bongs, that was Mel,” I remind him.

Mel giggles. “No, you said something about shot gunning a beer. That’s much worse.”

Matty laughs with the rest of them, shaking his head. “See what I mean,” he says.

“Fine, when you least expect it, I’m gonna go out with some hot guy who will have you shitting your pants with nerves that I’ll choose him over you.”

“Go for it,” he tells me, and kisses the top of my head. My heart melts, and I realize Matty’s not going to have to worry about crapping in his pants anytime soon. I’m just as wimpy as my bro and I haven’t even gotten laid yet.

“This is some really good ice cream, Matt,” Mel says. “Thanks so much. It totally hit the spot.” My best friend is trying to squash the conversation, like Matty did with the peck to my head. I’m grateful to her. I wouldn’t call it an argument but it’s as close as we’ve come to one.

Tyler looks over at her. “Did you finish the whole thing already?”

“No,” she replies. “But I’m going to.”

I think about my mother. “I probably shouldn’t. My mother’s giving me an effing complex,” I say as I swirl the ice cream around in the container.

“Why?” Matty asks.

Tyler answers, “My mom told her she’s getting fat.”

“No, you’re not,” Matty says, taking offense to my mother's words. If he's going to stick around, he's going to have to get use to it. After a pause, he continues, “And it wouldn’t matter if you did.”

“Good answer,” Mel tells him.

“I haven’t been working out lately. I need to start running again,” I say.

“I’m in,” Mels says through a mouthful of Cherry Garcia.

“Me too,” Matty adds.

Tyler adds, “I’ll run with you for a few days, but then I’m heading back home.”

“What happens with you two then? When you go back home?” I ask.

Mel and Tyler look at each other. They both shrug. “Nothing, I guess,” Mel responds.

“Things go back to the way they were,” Tyler agrees.

“Well that’s jacked up,” I tell them.

Mel puts her hand up, “Don’t go making a big deal out of this, Shel. We got it handled.”

Matty and I leave the two fuckbirds alone when we finally finish our pints of ice cream. And yes, I finished mine. So what if I’ve gained a few pounds. It’s not like I’m borderline obese or anything. At a very comfortable size six, I’m anything but.

Once the door is shut, I hook my fingers in the waistline of Matty’s shorts and pull him toward me. I put my arms around him and run my hands up and down his back, feeling his muscles beneath his shirt. He runs his fingers through my hair and I look up at him.

“I really missed you,” I tell him.

“Me too.” He cups my face in his hands and leans down to cover my mouth with his. Our lips lock together again and again. He doesn’t go for the tongue right away. Instead, he puckers his cool minty lips to mine, and I taste the sweetness.

“So are you ready for your Christmas present?” he asks, with a soft kiss to the tip of my nose.

I pout. “Hey, I thought we weren't going to do gifts?”

He nods. “I know, I know. Don't get too excited though. It's more like a gag gift.”

I practically do the Cabbage Patch again, “Cool, I got you one, too.”

I run to my closet and come back with a giant box of Rice Krispie Treats with a big red bow on top. Matty's eyes light up like I just gave him his very first tricycle. “Look, there's ninety of these little suckers in there, enough for the rest of the school year.”

He hooks his arm around my neck and presses his lips hard to mine, pulling away with a “muah” sound. “Thank you, Shelly, I love it.”

Then, he goes to his bag and unzips the side pocket. He comes back with a wrapped box the size of a sandwich.

He places it in my hands and gestures for me to open it. I tear the paper, and my mouth drops in surprise. I've always wanted one of these. My eyes well up. Something so simple can also be so thoughtful.

I stand on my tiptoes to pucker up for him. He bends down to meet my lips. “Thank you, Matty. Every time I use this I'll think of you.”

“Well, that’ll be everyday,” he says teasingly of the orange slicer he bought me. He sets his box down and takes the kitchen gadget from my hands and places it on my dresser, then reels me in for another hug, lifting me off the floor and leaving my feet dangling in the air.

“Let’s get ready for bed,” I tell him.

We go through the routine of me using the bathroom first. I brush my hair and my teeth, and wash my face. I put on a soft cotton tank nightgown and walk outside. He’s already in his boxers lying on top of the comforter, looking beautiful, and already dozing off. Poor guy is probably beat after such a long day.

I put my hand on his leg. “Matty, it’s your turn.”

He opens his eyes, and smiles at me. “Be right back.”

When he returns to bed, he throws his big arm over me and slides me across the bed to him. I love it when he does this. It’s likely I purposely lie down on the other side of the bed just so he can reel me in every night. I snuggle in with my back to him. He squeezes me tight and kisses my neck.

“I missed this so much. I’m getting very used to having you in my bed,” I tell him.

“Is that a bad thing?” he asks.

I put my hand on his, as he holds me. “I don’t think so.”

“I think we’re doing things the right way, Shel,” he says into my ear.

“What do you mean?”

“We know we can sleep together and be content. As much as I want to make love to you, it’s nice to know our relationship is based on more.”

“I get it. Like when I was missing you, I missed your presence. Your smile, your hugs, talking to you. It’s not like I needed you because I was horny.” We both let out a low chuckle. “I’m worried about Mel. I don’t think she and my brother thought this through very well. I think she’s going to be hurt when he leaves.”

“Maybe. But she’s a big girl. She knew what she was getting into. Maybe she wanted a little attention without having to have another husband right away. Maybe this will be good for her.” He kisses my shoulder and starts to bring his hands up to my breasts. And then he pauses. “Do you hear that?”

We’re still as possums trying to play dead. I try to focus on listening. “Oh son of a … fuck.” I need to get a new bed frame for the guest bedroom. The creaking sounds are killing me. “I should have sent them to her house. How the hell am I supposed to … exist … listening to that?” We’re silent as we listen again. “I need earplugs.”

Matty reaches over for the remote on the end table. He turns on the TV and increases the volume. “There. Better?”

“I think I should take some Benadryl to knock myself out.”

“Turn around and let me help clear your mind.”

I whirl around and face Matty. “Umm ... sounds perfect.”

He runs his hand along my side and just the touch of his fingertips makes me feel lightheaded. He cups my ass and warmth spreads from between my thighs down to my toes. Working his way back up to give some attention to my breasts, he pauses and I hold my breath in anticipation. We gaze at each other, lustful, wanting more but knowing we’re not ready for the next step. Not just yet.

And definitely not right now. As much as I want him, I’m fighting to keep my eyes open.

“Matty, there’s nothing I want more than to get naked with you and make out like we only have five minutes to live … ”

“But … ,” he says.

“I’m so tired,” I cry out.

“Oh, Shel, I’m fucking exhausted from the drive,” he sighs. “We should have come to bed a long time ago.” He falls to his back, I rest my head on his shoulder and wrap my arm around his waist.

“Hold on,” I say. I reach my face to his, and plant a kiss on his lips. “Good night, Matty.”

“Good night, Shel.” My lips brush his once more before I scoot back down to my spot.

I get comfortable again, with my cheek pressed to his broad chest, and my hand resting in the band of his boxer briefs. He strokes my hair gently until I fall asleep watching very loud reruns of Friends on the TV.

Chapter Fifteen

A knock on the door wakes me from my night of peaceful rest. I hate to think I need a man to be happy, but I sure do sleep a hell of a lot better when Matty is next to me.

“Yeah,” I yell. Matty moves around and throws his arm and leg across me. The feel of his warm skin on me stings with wanting. I could spend all day kissing these arms and legs and never get bored. His strong arms and big hands make me feel so protected. His muscular thighs and bulging calves, I could explore them inch by inch taking in the flicker of sunlight on the coarse golden hair of his sunkissed legs. He’s beautiful.

“Wanna go to breakfast?” Tyler yells, bringing me back to reality.

Matty opens one eye to look at me. He licks his lips and I’m thinking we should pass on breakfast. He tilts his head questioning. I shrug. He says, “Why not? Let’s spend time with your brother before he goes back.” Damn it. He’s right.

“Give us a half hour,” I shout to my brother.

I hear his footsteps walking down the hall.

“How did you sleep?” Matty asks, pulling me closer to him and pressing his warm hard body against mine.

“Like a baby.” I cuddle into him, spooning him like we’ve just made love.

“Me too.” He kisses my neck. I tilt my head to give him full access. He brushes my hair aside and I feel his tongue trace along the side of my throat before a row of kisses line my shoulder. “I don’t want to get up.”

“Too late,” I tell him rubbing my behind against his friend who is bidding me hello.

“Hey, that’s just nature talking. Morning wood,” he releases a slight chuckle.

As much as I want to stay right where I’m at, we’re running out of time. So I roll over and off the bed. “Yeah, that’s what they all say.”

When we get to our favorite eatin’ place, Matty runs in to a few of his buddies from college. We ask them to join us and they do. So now’s there’s six of us crowded into a horseshoe shaped booth.

The waitress comes around to take our orders and I order a classic ham and cheese omelet with a side of home fries and biscuits and gravy. Okay, so my mother’s comment did not have her desired effect. I’m still eating like usual. Maybe I will try to squeeze in a run later.

“So you guys are a bunch of geniuses, huh? If you went to CM,” Mel tries to make small talk.

The guys grin at each other, shrugging off the compliment.

Matty answers for them. “I wouldn’t say geniuses. We all just studied a lot in high school and had high test scores. No different from you.”

“Haha, you must have heard some lies about these two,” Tyler weighs in. “They did anything but study. Unless you call keg parties and making out in the back row of movie theaters, studying.”

“That’s so not true,” I say. “We didn’t have kegs at the parties, just lots of bottles, and it wasn’t always the last row.”

“And don’t forget drunken football games,” Tyler adds.

“Hey, we were pretty tame though. Mel’s dad’s a cop so we couldn’t have too much fun,” I say, laughing.

Everyone begins to share their crazy high school and college moments. Matty woke up in his own vomit after his first frat party. Mel lost her underwear at a park her senior year. Jason almost made out with a dude who he thought was a girl in Hollywood. He says there’s not a day that goes by he doesn’t thank Matty for getting him out of that mess. He didn’t exactly share how he got into the situation in the first place but I’d love to hear the full story sometime. Jackson reminded them of when they went to a nudie bar and one of the girls had toilet paper stuck to her crotch. Wow! That has to turn a fella on. Tyler says his worst memory is walking in on Chase and me having sex in my bedroom. Why he chose to tell that story is beyond me. I have to remind myself to kick his ass later.

“Want me to sock him, Shel?” Mel asks me from across the table.

“Yes, preferably in the balls,” I reply.

Our food comes and we make small talk through bites of a mouth-watering breakfast. Matty’s friends mesh well with us and they’re not too hard on the eyes either. Jason is short and stocky, but lean at the same time. With very blonde curly hair, green eyes, and super tanned skin, he looks like he belongs on a surfboard. I suppose his board shorts and Hurley shirt lend itself to that theory. He has very soft features and dimples when he smiles. I seriously can’t picture this guy in an office all day.

When we’re finished with our food, we all have disgusted looks on our faces. My stomach is so stuffed, there’s no way I can run today. Or maybe even tomorrow. What I need is a nap.

“Son of a shithole, I don’t think I need to eat for another week,” I tell the group.

“I second that,” Matty says, patting his belly.

“Thankfully, I haven’t found a place as good as this at home or I’d be a hundred pounds heavier,” Tyler says.

We all sit and chat, letting our food settle, telling more horror stories from the past.

Then Jackson asks, “So how long have you been dating Fuller?”

“Oh, we’re not dating,” Matty says. I wasn’t even going to go there, but whatever.

“Really?” Jackson says.

Matty and I both say, “Really.”

“So you wouldn’t mind if I asked Shel out then?” he questions Matty.

Matty gestures to me, “Be my guest.”

“Well, thanks for your permission, Dad,” I say, sarcastically.

“So what do you say, Shel? How about we go out for dinner?” Jackson asks me.

The entire table silently awaits my answer. I glance at Mel, who has a raised brow. My brother puts his head down. Matty looks straight ahead.

“Yeah, why not,” I answer. Jackson is just the type of hot guy who might finally have Matty worried. I just wish the hot guy wasn’t one of his friends.

“Cool,” Jackson says, “I’ll get your number from Fuller.”

“Well, I’ll look forward to hearing from you,” I manage to say. What the heck did I just do? I take a long sip of my water.

“Shall we go then?” Tyler asks, thankfully breaking the awkward silence.

Mel and I both say, “Sounds good.”

We make our way out of the booth, Tyler and Matty take care of the bill, we say our farewells, and we’re out.

Mel texts me on our way home to tell me they’re going back to her place. Great. Just what I need right now. Some alone time with the friend slash unofficial boyfriend. Well, that was what I wanted but now I’m not so sure. I’m such an idiot.

“Are you going to say anything?” he asks me, after we buckle up in the car. “Stop worrying, Shel. I’m not angry.” He puts his hand on mine and squeezes.

“How can you not be? I’m even angry with me.” He was right. I really had no intention of looking for someone else to date. And Jacob just happened to be a little blip. But now, I’m going out with one of Matty’s friends. That’s an all time low for me.

He looks straight ahead as he drives, every so often glancing over at me, and still holding my hand. “Don’t be. I’m cool with this, really.”

“Why?” I don’t get how this doesn’t bother him. I’d be having a fit if he was going out with another girl.

“You need to do this. Jacob wasn’t really a date. And you’re still afraid what we have is just a rebound. I know it’s not, but you don’t. Go out with other guys, and see what happens. If you feel something for someone else, then I was wrong. You were right. I just don’t want you to play the ‘what if’ game. Figure it out. We can’t move forward till you do.”

I mull this over in my head. Matty is right again. I’m fairly certain I already know what I’m going to find out, but I’m happy he’s given me the chance to work it through on my own. Jackson is just the kind of guy to help too. He’s really good looking and he doesn’t work with me.

“I do have one stipulation though,” he says. “I don’t mind if you go out with Jackson or whoever else a few times, but if it gets to the point where you get physical, you have to tell me. You can’t expect me to sleep with you every night when you’re having sex with someone else.”

I turn to him, putting my hand on top of his. “I can’t imagine even kissing someone other than you, and you think I’m going to go off screwing someone.” Tears start to fill my eyes. I know I’m being silly, but it almost feels like we’re breaking up, even though I know we’re not together. This whole situation is just odd, and I feel miles away from Matty when he’s sitting right next to me.

We pull up to the front of my house, he gets out, and comes to my door. I get out and he scoops me up in a tight hold. He whispers in my ear, “I don’t think you want to screw anyone. I just want to be clear of my feelings. I love you, Shelly, and I’m willing to let you go so you can love me back.”

“But what if I already do?” I mutter into his neck.

“Again, I don’t ‘want ifs’, Shel. I need you to be as confident as I am. And when you are, all this bullshit will be worth it.”

As we walk up the pathway to my condo, I tell him, “You’re going to feel like a dumb ass when your friend sweeps me off my feet and we end up in Vegas.”

He chuckles a bit before saying, “I’ll risk it.”

Chapter Sixteen

Jackson called. Two days after we all went out to breakfast. I think this is a bad idea, but I’m going anyway.

When Matty and I started our little fling, I knew I had strong feelings for him. He was my close friend and we got along so well. I was unsure though. Unsure if the strength of those feelings was based on my attraction to him as a friend or as a boyfriend. Or maybe I was attracted to him because he was attracted to me and Chase had just dumped me after ten years. It’s always a boost to the ego for someone to show interest in you after such a nightmare.

Alright, my feelings for Matt Fuller are about more than him just boosting my ego. He’s a great guy and I’ve never had such a good time with anyone in my life, including Chase. Matty knows more about me than I know about myself half the time, and understands all the little things that make me tick. I feel so alive when I’m with him. I don’t know. This whole thing is just too effing crazy to even believe. What kind of guy sends his girl on a date with someone else?

I consider what he told me. He loves me enough to let me go. Very sweet. Do I deserve a guy who loves me in such a way? He deserves a girl who will tell him she loves him so much she doesn’t need to be let go.

“So where are you going?” Mel yells to me.

From the closet, I shout back, “Yard House. I’m meeting him there.”

“Meeting him. You’re already dooming this date before it starts.”

I come out in fitted jeans and a black dolmon top with a silver tank underneath. “Is this too much? Does it make me look like I want him?”

“Why don’t you just cancel?” she asks. “Don’t you think it’s rude you’re totally using this guy? You know it’s not gonna work and you’re gonna run back to Matt.”

“I’m not using him,” I squeal. “I’m totally gonna give this a shot and if it doesn’t work, then I get to prove to Matty I really like him and want to be with him.”

Mel picks out a string of beads and hands them to me. “Are you trying to prove it to Matty or yourself?”

“STFU, Mel.” I flip her the bird. She knows me too effing well.

“Well, you look great. So you better hurry up and get going. The man not of your dreams awaits.”

“Oh he’s the man of my dreams alright. I’ve been thinking about Jackson for the last two nights.”

Mel pushes my bag into my hands and starts walking me down the hall. “Those were your nightmares, Shel, not your dreams.”

We both laugh at her joke. “Bitch!”

“Have fun. But not too much fun because I don’t care if you decide to marry this guy. He’s not going with us to the New Year’s Eve party tomorrow.”

“If I have too much fun, I may not want to go to the fucking party. So take that,” I snap at her.

“Bye, Shel.”

I flip her off again as I walk to my car.

I walk into heaven, take a deep breath and head to the bar. I always eat in the bar area at the Yard House. I figure the closer you are to the bar, the quicker you get your drinks. It’s not necessary tonight though. I’m driving so I will stick to my one beer limit.

My eyes take in the crowd and I spot a hand going up. Jackson. He has a booth. Perfect. We can sit across a large table from each other.

My stomach tightens as I get closer to him, and my smile is so fake I hope I don’t look like I put Vaseline on my teeth.

Jackson stands to greet me and I get a good look at his outfit. This man has some style. He has on perfectly fitted jeans slung low across his waist, but not so low he needs to wear a pair of basketball shorts to cover his ass. A dress shirt is barely visible under a soft, maybe cashmere, v-neck sweater. His sleeves are pushed up revealing a dragon tat on his very muscular forearm. He’s even better looking than I remembered.

“Hi, Shelly, great to see you again.” He comes toward me for a hug, and kisses me on the cheek. Oh, okay. He’s just a hair taller than me and I notice his blue eyes. They’re not as striking as Matty’s. A little dull, but pretty all the same.

“Nice to see you too,” I say, sliding into the booth.

I smile like a circus clown because I don’t know what else to do or say. Instead, I steal glances at his short dark hair. He’s working one of those messy but styled looks.

Jackson finally breaks the silence. “I ordered us a few beers and the spinach dip to start off with. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Oh, sounds great. I’ve had the dip before. Good stuff.” I nod in agreement.

The server stops by with our drinks. “Two Honey Blondes,” she says, putting the pints on the table.

Are you effing kidding me? HONEY BLONDES! Son of a bitch on a stick.

“Excuse me one second,” I say, slipping out of the booth.

I charge to the bathroom and fling open the door. Setting my bag on the sink, I dig around for my cell and yank it open.

HONEY BLONDE! He ordrd me a HONEY BLONDE! Cld thr b a weaker beer! R U FUCKING w/ me? Risk, my ass! u knw this wldnt work. Now get me out of it!

I snap the cell shut, and stare at my reflection in the mirror. What have I gotten myself into? Poor Jackson. I need to find him a woman. Someone who prefers weak ass beer.

I don’t wait for Matty to text back. I’m going to kick his ass when I see him.

I weave through the crowds and back to Jackson.

“Sorry about that,” I tell him. “Now, where were we?”

“I already got started on the dip. It’s delicious. You should try it.”

Anything that will get me out of small talk. I take a chip and scoop up some cheesy spinach. The server comes by to check on us again. “How we doing here? Can I get you anything? Refill for you?” She gestures to Jackson.

I notice his beer is drained. I push my completely full pint toward him. “How about you take mine.” I turn to the server, “Can I get a the darkest beer you have?” I smile. “Thanks.”

“So,” Jackson begins, “You’re a teacher. How do you like it?”

“I love it actually. It never gets old, that’s for sure. Every year is a new beginning with a new set of kids. Come to think of it, each period is a new beginning. Each class is just so different. It’s like Forest Gump.”

He gulps some of his brew. “How so?”

“You know, box of chocolates … yada yada.” I stuff my mouth with spinach dip.

“Got it,” he says, with a light chuckle. He’d be so cute if he didn’t have that nasty beer in his hands. May as well be a wine cooler. I should give him Jacob’s number.

The server brings over my beer and I almost hug her. Instead, I just say, “Thank you,” and take the glass from her hand before it even makes it to the table. I take a swig and my belly gets warm with happiness.

“So what do you do, Jackson?” I ask.

“I’m an attorney,” he says. “Corporate law. I wanted to get into engineering, but after awhile, it seemed a bit monotonous. I liked being on the debate team in high school, so law became the next obvious choice.”

“Cool,” I tell him. “Mel’s ex-husband is a lawyer. He cheated on her with another lawyer at his firm and now they’re getting married.”

“Wow.” He takes another drink of his beer, draining the second one. This guy drinks more than I do.

“You’re not sleeping with any married partners are you?” I ask, trying to make a joke. “Holy shit.”

“What? What’s wrong?” Jackson asks, concerned.

“Speak of the asshole. That’s Nick. Mel’s ex.”

He looks around as if Nick is going to have a tattoo on his forehead that says I’m the asshole prick who cheated on my wife.

“I haven’t seen him in a long time. He didn’t even notice me,” I explain.

Jackson starts to scoot out of the booth. “My turn. I’ll be right back.”

I stare at Nick until he meets my glare. If only he could read minds. Mother fucker!

Oh shit. He’s coming over.

“Hi, Shelly,” he says. “I know you probably don’t want to talk to me, but I just wanted to say hello.”

“You’re right, I don’t want to talk to you,” I sneer. I lean to get a look at the female sitting with him. “So is that the bimbo you’re gonna marry?”

“Well, enjoy your date,” he says, ignoring my dig, and turns to walk away.

It’s like a light bulb flips on. “Wait.” He turns back around. “I need you to do something for me.” His face contorts giving me a look like I have crap smeared all over my face. “You owe it to me for all the shit I’ve had to deal with. I need to get out of here. So when the guy comes back, I need you to come over and say something to get me to leave.” He rolls his eyes at me, and I slam my hand on the table. “Just do it!”

He struts away. Fucker.

The server and Jackson return at the same time. “Are you ready to order?” she asks.

“Can you give us just a few more minutes? I haven’t looked at the menu.” I won’t feel so bad when I suddenly get sick and need to leave, if we haven’t ordered yet. But once we do, I’m in this. Stuck.

Jackson takes his menu too and we both sit in silence.

“Excuse me, Shelly.” I look up and Nick is standing there. God Bless him. He’s still an asshole, but he’s here. “I’m sorry to interrupt your dinner. I need to ask you a favor.”

I introduce Jackson and Nick continues. “I just talked to Melissa and she’s not doing too well. I thought you were with her and she’d be okay, but you’re here. So I thought maybe you could go check on her.”

“Now,” I say, trying to sound offended.

“Yes, now. I’m pretty sure she needs you.” He doesn’t say anything else. He goes back to his table and pretends he’s not a total dick. Good deed or not, he’s still the biggest loser I know.

“I’m sorry, Jackson. I gotta go,” I tell him, rushing to stand. “I’m all Mel has now, so I have to see what’s going on.”

“I understand. I hope everything is alright,” he says.

“I’ll see you,” I mumble, as I practically run out.

I think I hear him say, “Call me.”

When I get on the road, I make two calls.

First, I call Mel.

“Guess who just got me out of my date?” I ask, when she picks up.

“Who?”

I explain my horror story with Jackson and Honey Blondes, and then go on to tell her about how I told Nick he owed me.

“It’s about time that shithead is good for something,” she says, and we both laugh.

“By the way, I can’t believe that woman. She looks like he pulled her out of a JC Penney catalog. Could she be more plain?” I tell her, hoping to make her happy.

“I know right,” she replies with a giggle.

“You were too much sizzle for him. He can only handle the mild sauce,” I tease.

“Uh huh,” she agrees. “If you can’t stand the heat, get the fuck out the kitchen.”

“Amen,” I say. “One more thing, Mel.”

“What happened?” she asks anxiously.

“He got fat,” I squeal.

“Yes!” she yells.

We both start busting up until I’m gasping for breath and Mel is snorting.

And then, I call Matty.

He answers in a playful tone, “Are you on your way to Vegas yet?”

Chapter Seventeen

It’s New Year’s Eve and I’m not so sure I want to go out with Matty tonight after the crap he pulled yesterday. He had a great time, along with Mel and Tyler, talking crap about how I may have missed out on a real hunk of a man just because of his piss poor choice in beer. I could have choked him.

But who am I kidding? Of course, I want to go out with him tonight.

We convinced Ty to stay till the end of break, so he’ll be joining us for the festivities this evening too, which happens to be a work party. Matty and I haven’t gone anywhere together publically, where people know who we are. This should be interesting and is sure to create a lot of gossip among our colleagues. Or maybe not. It’s not like we’re going to walk in holding hands and make out in a corner or something. Maybe people will assume we’re just friends like we’ve always been.

And it’s not like we RSVP’d together, as a couple. Mel actually responded for all of us.

Oh well, who cares? We’re just going to go. The four of us. And have a good time. Shit, I totally over think all this stuff all the time.

Chase is going to be there. He hasn’t invaded my thoughts all vacation, and now …

Forget it. I’m not going to say anymore.

“Oh my, you guys look frickin’ adorable!” I say to Tyler and Mel, when we arrive at her place to pick them up.

“That’s not really the look we were going for,” Tyler shrugs. “But we’ll take it.” He throws his arm around Mel’s neck and hooks her in for a kiss.

“Oh, even more adorable,” I squeal. Matty makes gagging sounds at my comments. We all let out a quick chuckle.

When you go to a Pajama Party, there’re really only two ways to go. 1) Slutty or 2) Cozy. I always opt for cozy. There’s no way I’m going to go to a party with a bunch of co-workers looking like a prostitute. Plus, we always end up drinking way beyond tipsy and acting ridiculous. I’d rather risk acting like a fool in comfortable clothing where my tits aren’t hanging out. So I’m wearing my typical PJs—cropped jammy pants and a tank. Matty’s wearing one of his college tees and some Family Guy boxers, with some boxer briefs underneath—I checked. I don’t want his junk hanging out there for the world to see.

Tyler and Mel really do look cute. He’s wearing plaid flannel pajama pants—the ones my mom gave him for Christmas—with a wife beater. She’s wearing the coordinating plaid pajama top, which is too long for her but she has some little booty shorts on underneath. They’re matching for crying out loud. What a great idea. I wish I would’ve thought of it. But then again, I doubt I would have asked Matty to wear similar outfits to a work party.

Like always, we’re late. Parking ten houses down and across the street is evidence of that. I think we got lucky with a spot not too far away. Someone must have left and we snagged it before they could get back, because familiar cars line the road even further from us. This party is going to be huge.

The party is mostly filled with my English department colleagues. Teaching English can really facilitate the need to party. Reading paper after paper written by kids in high school who still can’t decipher when to use to, too, and two or who still don’t know A LOT is two words is a joke. Couple that with this insane era of technology and the need for students to write like they’re sending a text message or updating their Twitter status can really drive a person to drink. Heavily. Hence, my well-stocked refrigerator full of beer.

Maybe one day, I’ll just have a keg and a beer tap installed in my kitchen. I can totally picture it. A tap right next to the sink. Or a button on the fridge dispenser: Ice, Cold Water, or Heffeweizen. Imagine it. I should patent that shit before someone steals my idea.

As we walk around and say hello, I notice there’re a few people from each of the other departments sprinkled in. Mostly people my age, but some of the oldie but goodies came. The ones that can hang. Actually, some of the oldies can party harder and longer than the rest of us.

Matty and Tyler veer off from us to get drinks. Mel and I take a seat outside with some friends.

“Hey ladies,” we all seem to say in unison. They stand up, and hugs all around.

Before our asses hit our chairs, Margo asks, “So Mel, who’s the hot guy who was all over you when you walked in?” Here we go.

“He is pretty fucking hot, huh,” Mel begins. My smile fades, and I roll my eyes. This is my big brother she’s talking about. “His name is Tyler and I got him for Christmas.” I grin. She’s funny, even if she is talking about my own flesh and blood. I’d probably do the same.

“Damn, I need to have a talk with Santa,” Jessica says. “All I got was a new cardigan. I hope you’re enjoying your present.”

“Oh, I am,” Mel responds, fluttering her brows. “I’ve enjoyed him quite a few times actually.”

The girls fling their heads back with howls.

“Okay, enough,” I shout, throwing my hands up.

“What’s wrong Shelly? Santa didn’t bring you a man for Christmas?” Jessica says, pouting her face.

“I thought Fuller might’ve been your present,” Margo says, with a questioning stare. She raises a brow at me. I’d love to give in and stake my claim on Matty, but I can’t.

I look at Mel, not knowing what to say. “Ah, she’s just pissed cause I’m talking nasty about her brother,” she changes the subject for me.

“That hottie is your brother?” Jessica says.

I nod.

“Mel, you’re scandalous,” Margo tells her. “You can’t be talking about her brother like that. In front of her anyway.” She turns to me. “Shel, go get something to eat so she can give us the dirty details about your bro.”

“You guys suck,” I yelp.

I’m a few yards away when I hear the hooting and hollering. My brother must be good to get the cheers he’s getting. Gross!

I’m almost to the coolers when I hear my name. “Hey, Shel,” Chase says. He puts his arms out to hug me. I’m not sure why. With my arms at my sides, I don’t reciprocate the gesture. “Happy New Year.” He releases me but keeps his hands on my shoulders. “I can’t remember the last time I didn’t kiss you at midnight.” He’s drunk. His eyes and nose are red, and he’s smiling like an idiot. Someone, take this guy home already.

“Well, it won’t be happening tonight. So you can remember this one,” I say, standoffish, wiggling free from his grip.

“Nah, we don’t want to ruin tradition,” he says, “not after ten years.” He runs the back of his hand down my cheek. Ah, his old move that made me weak at the knees. Yet, somehow it’s not working tonight.

I try to ignore him, but can’t help but ask. “Where’s Summer?”

He grins. “I don’t know. We’re done. I moved out before Christmas. She says I’m not over you, and she doesn’t feel like waiting around.” He cups my cheek in his hand, and I feel myself getting irritated by the look in his poop-colored brown eyes. The look that used to make me swoon.

He’s not over me. What? He’s talking crazy. The idea does peak my interest though. Thinking about Ms. McGallian breaking up with him because he still wants me is quite satisfying. Serves the skank right. And if he even thinks he still has a chance, he’s effing crazy. That ship has already sailed, even if it does make me feel good to know he still thinks of me.

“What are you thinking, Shel?” he asks, taking a step closer to me.

I step back, pushing his hand away from my face. “I’m wondering why I still don’t have a beer.”

“No need to wonder anymore.” Matty puts a cold one over my shoulder. I look back and there he is, looking concerned. I want to tell him he has absolutely nothing to be worried about, but I can’t. Not here. Not now.

“Thanks, Matty,” I say, and then take a drink of my opened bottle of beer. I love that he always removes the cap for me.

“What happened to Mel?” he asks me, looking around.

“She started dishing the dirt on my brother to the girls so I had to leave,” I explain. I joke placing my finger in my mouth to mimic a fake gag.

“Nice,” he says. “You mean you didn’t want to get the low down on the squeaky springs in the guest bedroom?” A low chuckle escapes from both of us, and I lean into him just like I would at home.

Chase interrupts, bringing his voice down to a whisper, “Shelly, you’re not really with this guy, are you?” He must sense the answer to his question by the look on my face. With a look of hurt in his eyes, he says, “You don’t belong with him.”

I put my hand on his arm and look into his eyes. “Chase, just go away. Okay,” I say softly. I turn around to Matty, hook my arm in his and guide him far away from Chase. “Let’s get drunk, my friend,” I tell him. We stop at the bar, and he pours me a Jager bomb. Nothing like a little friendly bonding.

Hours later, there are about ten of us sitting at the dining room table playing Quarters. And we’re getting hammered. I find it ironic that we’re a bunch of high school teachers playing drinking games we played when we were in high school, which was a very long time ago. I guess it’s a good sign we’re not filling our glasses with a bottle of Boonesfarm Strawberry Hill. I saw it on the shelf at the store and was tempted to pick it up for tonight as a joke. But I didn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to pay $2.49 for a bottle we used to pool left over lunch money to buy for only $1.29. That’s just wrong. Inflation sucks.

“And another shot to Mel,” Tyler says. After making three consecutive quarters in the miniature glass, he gets to pick someone to toss back a shot of tequila. About thirty minutes ago, I don’t remember who, but someone made up this outrageous rule and it went from a fun, easy going game to everyone getting shitty real quick.

“Damn, Ty, I’m getting slizzard,” Mel says, sending everyone into bouts of laughter.

“Dumb ass, you don’t have a G6. You can’t get slizzard in a frickin’ Prius,” I joke with her. We all laugh again, and Mel starts snorting. I take a deep breath before I start wheezing like a total dork.

“That was good,” Mel compliments me. She holds out her fist for a bump, and I’m so happy to oblige.

“Ty, you better stop picking on her, or you’re gonna be holding her hair back later when she’s puking,” I warn him. It wouldn’t be the first time. He always took care of Mel when we were younger.

“Thanks for reminding me,” he says, after making another 3 bounces in. “A shot to Shel.”

“You ass!” I yell at him.

“Don’t worry, Shelly, I’ll hold your hair back for you, babe,” Chase yells from across the table.

“No thanks,” I wave him off. “I’ll use a clip.” I down my drink. Hot and nasty—the tequila, and Chase.

“If he keeps it up,” Matty whispers, referring to the endless amount of Chase’s comments tonight, “I’m gonna kick his ass.”

“Just ignore him. He’s drunk and stupid.” And so am I, I think. I hope Matty’s not too drunk. I don’t want to see him go to blows. That would totally be a buzz kill.

“I’ll try,” he says. I feel his hand on the small of my back and under the influence of alcohol—a lot of alcohol—tingles spread from my eyeballs to my pinky toes. I don’t say anything or make a move. Matty touching me in front of people from work doesn’t bother me like I thought it would. His touch always feels good, more than just good at the moment. I have to cross my legs to suppress how good it feels.

It’s my turn and I haven’t made one all night. I’m the worst Quarters player in the history of the game. Not much has changed since back in the day. Once, I almost broke my friends glasses, when I bounced it too hard and it flew full speed right at her eye. My friends can’t help but talk shit while they wait for me to throw the coin.

“Poor, Shel. She’s never gonna get lucky again,” one person says.

“Yeah, she can’t even use her hand to guide it in.”

“It just bounces all around, but never makes it in the hole.”

Nice, real nice. Somehow a drinking game involving banking a quarter in a shot glass gets turned into something sexual.

“Shut up. This is it. I can feel it,” I begin.

Someone cuts me off, “That’s what she said.” Funny. Haha.

I adjust my grip again. “This quarter is gonna be my bitch.” I bounce it on the table at an angle, and for the first time tonight, it makes it in. “Woohoo,” I yell. “Go, Shel, it’s my birthday, I did it. I made a shot,” I sing and dance around with my hands in the air.

“Matty, you’re up,” I tell him, meaning he needs to take a drink, but I can’t say the word because if I do, I’ll have to drink too.

“Body shot,” Tyler calls out. Really? My brother is the whore of rules. How many has he made up tonight? Jeez. I lost count. But shit, according to Ty—the professional Quarters player—Matty has to do a body shot off of me.

I look at Tyler with a sneer, and both he and Mel are giddy as hell. They’re practically jumping out of their seats. The rest of the table, including Chase, is quiet. I know my brother is enjoying this, knowing Chase is going to watch Matty lick one of my body parts. Just effing great.

Matty looks at me, and I smile. This is a bit funny. And I’ve been dying to touch this man all night. Finally, he has an excuse to put his mouth on me, where ever I want him to.

All the fixings are passed to us. I pull my hair over to one side, and rub a lime on the spot on my neck where it meets my shoulder. Then I shake a little salt. Did any stick or did it just go down my shirt? My train of thought is interrupted with whistles. Matty eyes are locked to mine. “Whenever you’re ready,” I tell him, dizzy with anticipation.

I feel his familiar arm wrap around my waist and draw me toward him. The touch of his strong hand on the small of my back squeezes my girl parts. I tilt my head to grant him access to my neck and he dives right in. His tongue is warm on my body as he licks and sucks off the salt, lingering a lot longer than necessary and sending shivers down to my core. When he’s done with his taste of me, he fixes his eyes to mine again before downing the shot. I hold the lime up to my mouth, egging him on to come and get it. When his lips are close, I move the fruit out of the way to take Matty in for the kiss I’ve been hungry for all night. He doesn’t hesitate. His lips cover mine, and then our tongues mingle, taking me to a place I’ve never been with just a kiss. He has one hand on my waist and the other wrapped up in my hair as our mouths continue to make love. I squeeze his hips, pressing our bodies together. He backs away planting a few kisses on the bridge of my nose and just under my eyes. I know he’s smooching my freckles. I reach up to cup his face in my hands. His lips touch mine again, and my fingers rush through his hair as he trails kisses down my chin, neck, and collarbone. When he’s had enough, he puts some space between us, rests his head on my shoulder and we’re both still as can be, in each other’s arms.

I hear a bunch of chatter all at the same time.

“Now that’s one hell of a body shot.”

“Just buddies, my ass!”

“They are so not just friends anymore.”

“Doesn’t look like she’s gonna take you back, Chase.”

“Wow, I think I just came!”

“Alrighty, Shel, you get to go again unless you need a minute to cool down,” Tyler says. “And Fuller, watch your back. I’m gonna wipe that smile off your face when you least expect it.”

Everyone laughs.

Mel chimes in, “You’re the douche who just called body shot on your own sister. Don’t get mad Matt just full on manhandled your baby sis.” She winks at me. “She didn’t look like she minded though.”

More laughter.

I look up at Matty, who runs his left hand through his hair. It doesn’t matter that he’s had a few, he’s still embarrassed. Trying to comfort him, I rest my head against his shoulder and he kisses the top of my head.

“Are we going to play or what?” Chase shouts.

Chapter Eighteen

As the countdown nears, what Chase said earlier hits me. For the last ten years, I have kissed him at midnight. Whether we were at a party, or bringing in the New Year at home, it was always Chase. It’s feels a little weird we’re both here, but we won’t be sharing this moment together. Time to move on, I guess, but just when I think I have, things like this creep up on me.

Margot and Mel run around passing out plastic champagne flutes to everyone, while I ponder what will happen at the stroke of midnight. Someone else dishes out noise makers. Speaking of noise, I’ve already heard several gunshots, which always makes me nervous. Jessica turns on the TV and changes the channel to the countdown in Times Square. Less than five minutes.

This year is going to be so different from last. Teachers usually think of a year in terms of an academic calendar, but this time, I’m going to take the plunge and make a New Year’s resolution. I’m not sure what it’s going to be yet, but I know it doesn’t involve needing a man to be happy and fretting over jackasses who have done me wrong.

This year is going to be my bitch, just like that quarter was.

“5—4—3—2—1—Happy New Year!” is heard all around.

This first person I celebrate with is Mel. We hold out our arms and give each other the biggest girly hug ever. “I love you,” I tell her. And she tells me the same.

Next, I hug my brother. It’s comforting to have him here, and in this moment, I really feel how much I miss him and wish he’d come home.

And then … Matty. I fling my hands around his neck and yank him down for my first New Year’s kiss. He lifts me off the ground and hugs me so tightly I feel it in my ribs. I lift my legs to encircle his waist and I don’t want to let go.

“Sorry,” I say into his ear. “I couldn’t resist.”

“Shhh. This is perfect.” He kisses me again, this time on the cheek before I feel my feet touch the floor.

For the next few minutes, we circle the room exchanging hugs and best wishes for the upcoming year. It reminds me of square dancing in the fifth grade. You dance with one person and then turn to another, constantly changing partners until …

Chase is right in front of me.

He opens his arms to me. My first thought is to punch him in the gut, but then I realize if I stay mad at him forever, I may never move on. I have to work with this guy so I need to fix it. Sure, he’s a total dick for what he did, but holding a grudge forever makes it seem like I’m holding on to him. And I’m done with the past. I know I’m over Chase. I don’t feel that yearning for him anymore, or even the pain of what he did.

I’ve really moved on.

I get it now.

Finally.

So I open my arms to him too, and we embrace. It feels a lot like a goodbye to my past. Like I’m finally letting go. I don’t feel sad. What I feel is more like relief, that I’m free from his hold on me. I’m free to start fresh this year, and not be tied up with all the nonsense of Chase.

I release my hold on him and try to step back. I look up at him and smile a farewell. At least, it’s what I feel like I’m doing. Chase doesn’t get it though because he takes this as his chance to plant a smackdown on me with his lips mashed into mine. I put my hands on his shoulders to push him back, but then I just relax in the moment. If I wasn’t sure before—even though I was pretty fucking sure—I know now it’s totally over. Chase’s lips are totally smothered all over mine right now—his mouth is closed, thank God—and I feel nothing. I let it continue to be sure, but still … nothing. Not a damn thing. Zilch. No wobbly knees, no tingling in my thighs, no heat penetrating down there. No love making my heart go pitter patter. Nothing. Zip.

It’s over.

We finally separate. I pat his chest and tell him, “Thank you, Chase. That was just what I needed.” I give him one last smile and turn to walk away forever—metaphorically speaking though, because I will still see him at work on Monday. But when I turn, I see Matty, who does not look too happy to see me.

He doesn’t say anything. He walks away, and as I hurry to follow him, Mel stops me.

“Did I just see you kissing Chase?” she asks, with a disgusted look on her face.

“Yeah, but it’s not what you think.”

“I’ve heard that before. What the shithole, Shel?”

“I’ll explain to you later. Right now, I need to talk to Matty,” I reply.

I wander around outside but there is no sign of him. I look throughout the house, but he’s not there either. The car, maybe he went to the car.

I grab my coat and head outside. I walk past many houses and when I get to where we’re parked, he’s not there either. I must have missed him inside.

When I get back to the party, I see Mel first.

“I can’t find Matty,” I tell her.

“He left,” she says.

“What? No he didn’t. His car is still here,” I explain.

“He gave your brother his keys and got a ride with John.” She throws her arm around me and squeezes. “He’s pretty upset. You kissed Chase? Of all fucking people?”

I roll my eyes. “I didn’t kiss Chase. He kissed me.”

“He said he heard you tell Chase you needed him,” she continues.

“Oh son of a mother lover. Matty should know better. He didn’t hear me say those exact words. Can you get Ty? I wanna go home.” The tears are threatening to break free and I want to get out of here before I cause a scene, or a scandal. I can just see the headlines at work on Monday. No thank you.

I can’t believe Matty is choosing now to act like a punk. I didn’t say I needed Chase. He needs to clean out his ears. He doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about. He just took off and didn’t give me a chance to explain. Un-fucking-believable. I thought he had confidence in me. In us.

What bullshit?

He just ran away.

By the time I get home, I’m seething mad. I don’t allow myself to be sad and weepy about Matty leaving me hanging. I’m just pissed he left me hanging. I could ring his stupid gorgeous neck right now.

I toss around in bed, which seems like a sea of never ending space without him here. I look at the clock and it’s only been about fifteen minutes since I’ve been lying here. It feels like time is standing still. The minutes on the clock can’t seem to turn fast enough. It’s just after one and the Lady Antebellum booty call song starts playing in my head. I fight the urge to sing it aloud, knowing I’ll probably start crying if I do.

Sure, I’m all alone and I’m drunk and I want to call him. But I’m not going to. Fuck him. I’m not going to go out in the middle of the night and look for him. I did once already, only to find he left my ass there. Without a single word. He just left.

But I am going to text him.

Well I guess it was only a matter of time before you left me too.

I wait. Five minutes. Ten minutes. No texts back.

So I send another:

It’s just too bad you didn’t stick around long enough for me to tell you what I figured out tonight.

I wait again.

Nothing.

Last text:

I guess you’ll never know.

Fucker.

I love you …

I stare at the text on my screen for a long time. But instead of sending it, I back space thirteen times and erase the whole damn thing.

Chapter Nineteen

The first day back after winter break always sucks ass. Nobody ever wants to be here. Not the kids, and not even the teachers. It almost feels like the first day all over again. It takes a while to get back in the groove of things. To remember old routines, and for some students, I have to remember their names.

Even worse is the fact I still haven’t spoken to Matty. I went from absolutely pissed off to painfully sad, and now I’m just completely irritated he’s being such a baby. He has no idea what he saw and he’s not even taking the time to figure it out.

I thought maybe he’d meet me in the parking lot as usual and we’d talk on our way to class. But nothing. Then, I thought maybe he’d stop by during lunch. But nothing. I even stayed after school for an extra thirty minutes in hopes he’d visit once all the students went home. Yet, nothing.

On my way to my car, I hear a student whisper to another, “Did you hear Ms. Gelson and Mr. Marino are back together?” I want to stop and set them straight, but I don’t. This is really the talk on campus?

Mel comes over to watch me drag ass all night, wondering how I’m going to fix this. Or if I even want to. She’s dragging ass just as much as I am. She misses my brother, and so do I.

“Want another beer?” she asks.

“Do you have to ask?” I try sarcasm, hoping it will snap me out of my funk.

She brings me another bottle and plops herself down next to me.

“See, I told you this wouldn’t work. I should have never gotten involved with him in the first place. I knew this was gonna happen. Now, not only do I not have him as a whatever he was, but I don’t have him as a friend either. Matty sucks.”

“Don’t be such a pussy, Shel. First, things are gonna work out. He just needs a minute to understand what happened. Second, if he’s gonna be a pussy too, then you don’t need him. As a ... whatever it is he was ... or as a friend. Screw ‘em.”

This doesn’t make me feel any better.

It’s Tuesday morning. I arrive and walk to my classroom alone, again. His car was in the parking lot already, which makes me a little bitchy since he didn’t wait. Thankfully, being a teacher is like being an actor. From bell to bell, I can put on a smiley face and pretend I’m in another world. But those seven minutes in between classes really suck when I check my messages, and there’s nothing. Or when I check my email, and the only message I have is from my department chair talking about Friday’s meeting. I take a quick glance at my cell. One message from Mel checking to see if I’ve made contact yet. Nope.

Nothing.

I meet Mel in the staff lounge for lunch. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised to find Matty’s not here.

“I’m gonna kick his ass to Sunday when I see him,” I tell her when I reach the table.

She shoves a handful of Doritos in her mouth. “No doubt. I thought for sure he’d be here.”

I start to gnaw on some carrots in frustration. “Wanna come over again tonight?” I ask her.

“Girl, we need to chill. This past year of man trouble has really done me in. My party liver can’t keep up. I’m like a case of wine away from AA, and you’re probably even closer than I am.”

For the first time since the new year, I laugh. Out loud.

“You’re so right. I was brushing my teeth this morning and I was still burping beer.”

“Maybe he’ll call tonight,” she says, with a weak smile.

But he doesn’t.

I’m getting sad.

Wednesday. Rinse, wash, and repeat from the day before.

In the morning, he’s not waiting for me.

At lunch, he’s MIA.

After school, I wait like a dumb ass again.

In the evening, still no Matty.

I’m even more sad.

Thursday. The same. And now …

I’m fucking mad as hell.

When Friday morning rolls around and Matty’s car is not in the parking lot when I get to work, I wonder if I should wait for him. I decide against it. Instead, I sneak into his classroom. I leave a large mocha latte and a supersized Rice Krispie Treat on his desk, along with a sticky note that reads:

If you don’t come and see me TODAY, your ass is gonna be sorry when I find you myself.

He doesn’t show to our staff meeting. Or at lunch.

My student aide tells me, “My friend told me Mr. Fuller has a picture of you on his desk and he’s been staring at it all week. He’ll come around.” She squeezes my hand on the way out and it amazes me the kids are so in tune with what’s going on around here. He has a picture of me. And he’s been looking at it. Should be a good sign, right?

Okay buddy, it’s after school. Now or never. Well, not never. If he doesn’t show, it just means I have to go looking for his dumb ass. He doesn’t get to say all those wonderful things to me and make me feel the way I do, and then just walk away when he thinks he sees something he really didn’t. Sure, it probably wasn’t the best idea to let Chase kiss me, but I wouldn’t change it for anything. It just solidified my already disappearing feelings for Chase and gave me the closure I needed to move forward. Now, if Matty would just let me explain.

I’m sitting at my computer entering in grades when I hear the door screech open. A giddy smile spreads over my face, as I swivel my chair around to see him.

Son of a bizatch. It’s Chase.

My smile extinguishes.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he says, taking a step forward.

“Don’t worry about it. I was just expecting someone,” I say, waving him off. It’s been over an hour since school’s been out. He’s not coming.

“Fuller didn’t show?” he asks. How does he know? Damn it. The whole effing school probably knows he’s not talking to me.

“Nope,” I tell him, but I’m not interested in talking about it with him. The sooner I get rid of him, the better. “What’s up, Chase?”

“I was thinking about New Year’s Eve, and I realized I screwed things up for you.” He pauses. “You were trying to tell me something and I didn’t get it then, but I do now.” He sits on one of the student desks. “You were saying goodbye, weren’t you?”

I amble toward him slowly and sit on my desk facing him. I nod my head in agreement. “I wasn’t absolutely sure I was ready to move on until then. But when you kissed me, I knew.”

“I guess I knew, too.” He scratches his head. “Summer and I are back together.” Surprisingly, it doesn’t bother me in the slightest to hear this. “She kept on telling me I wasn’t over you. And even though I tried to reassure her, maybe I didn’t believe it myself. But then we kissed, and it wasn’t like it used to be. It was just … ”

“Blah,” I finish his thought. He smiles. “I know. It was weird. I didn’t feel anything.” Then I realize how bad it sounds. “No offense,” I quickly say.

“Shelly, I don’t want us to hate each other anymore. I think we had a great relationship all those years, but it just wasn’t meant to be forever.”

“I could never hate you, Chase. I’m grateful for the time we had together,” I say. “I've known you my whole life. We grew up together. I think we’ve finally come to the point where we’re really ready to move on. I’m assuming you explained this to Summer?”

He nods. “I had to email her because she wouldn’t talk to me. But she understands now.” He grins at me mischievously. “I think you and Mel would really like her, if you gave her a chance.”

“I think you’d like Matty too, if you gave him a chance,” I flash the same grin right back.

“I do like Fuller. I always have. He’s cool. Maybe he just rubbed me the wrong way because I kinda knew you’d end up with him. You two are perfect for each other. I’ll be totally cool with him from now on. You’ll see.”

“Now, if I could just get him to be in the same room with me, I could fix all this. He saw you kiss me, and he took it the wrong way. I haven’t talked to him since.” My eyes well up and I put my head down to try to calm my emotions.

“Don’t worry about it, Shel,” he stands, and gives me a hug. “Summer and I are proof things will work themselves out.”

“I hope so,” I sniffle into his chest.

My door flings open and I really must have the worst luck in the entire fucking world. Once again, Matty catches me in Chase’s arms.

He puts his hands up like WTF. “You know, I was already in my car and I decided to come back. I guess I was right in thinking I should have just gone home,” he practically spits the words out.

“Oh son of a beeyotch, Matty, you have the worst timing ever,” I say, rolling my eyes for good measure.

He turns to leave but Chase shouts, “Fuller, don’t leave. Stay here and talk to her. I think you’ll want to hear what she has to say.”

Just then, my door opens for the third time and the familiar sound of heels comes tapping in.

“Well hello, everyone,” Summer says.

“Hi, Summer,” I say, as I hop off my desk and start to move toward her. “Nice to see you. I’m really happy everything worked out for you two.”

She smiles and I have this overwhelming urge to hug her. So I do. Thankfully, she doesn’t punch me. She hugs me back and says, “I’m sure things will work out for you too.”

We back away from each other, and I run my fingers through my hair. I glance at Matty and he looks so confused, it’s adorable.

Summer gestures to the door. “You ready, Chase?”

“Sure am,” he says. He bends down and kisses my cheek. “Good luck.” Then he sticks out his hand to Matty, who still looks puzzled but shakes Chase’s hand anyway.

“Bye, guys, see ya later,” I say as they leave.

Matty points at the door, “What the hell was that?”

I smile at him. “What are you talking about?” I ask, facetiously.

“You just hugged Summer McGallian.” He’s still pointing at the door.

I shrug. “We’re friends.”

“Since when?” He puts his hand to my forehead. “Are you feeling okay? Is it the flu?” Thank you Jesus, he’s joking. This is going to work.

“Since she discovered I’m not in love with her boyfriend.” He runs his fingertips along the side of my face and brushes my hair back. “And since Chase explained to her I’ve moved on just like he has.”

“But what about the party?” he asks, putting his hands to his sides.

“Chase and I kissed, briefly and it was just a peck. But I think it was more out of curiosity. For both of us. To see if there was something still between us. And we both figured out what we already knew. Our feelings for each other no longer exist. I didn’t feel one thing when he kissed me. He may as well have been a stranger. There was nothing.”

“And what about what you said? You needed him.”

I roll my eyes in frustration. “You need to use Q-tips, Matty. What I said was ‘I needed that.’ Meaning, I needed that to move on, to say goodbye to him. And he understood, but you just left and didn’t give me the chance to explain. You bailed on me.”

Matty runs his fingers through his hair, and then puts his hands on his hips. “You scared me, Shel. When you went out with the other guys, I wasn’t worried in the slightest. There was never a doubt in my mind you’d come back to me. But with Chase, it was different. When I saw you guys together, I was crushed. I assumed the worst. I guess I always felt like I couldn’t compete with him and the history you have together.”

I shake my head, and can’t help but laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“You!” I shout. “You don’t get it Mr. Fuller. There’s no competition. And if there was, you’d win every time.”

He tilts his head, still looking perplexed.

“For you being such a smart ass, you sure are dumb.” I stretch my arms up and clasp my hands around his neck. “Matt Fuller, I love you. Now kiss me, you fool.”

He cups my face in his hands and touches his lips to mine. Our lips lock together several times, before our tongues slide against each other rekindling the fire that had gone out for a week. Matty traces his tongue across my top lip and catches my bottom lip between his, sucking softly and playfully, and sending tingles all over my body. Then he lifts me in a tight squeeze, as my feet dangle in the air, and he plants quick smooches all over my face and throat. He nuzzles his face in my neck and the feel of his warm breath on my skin is so great I let out a hushed moan.

“You really love me, huh?” he asks, grinning.

“Yes, I do.” I smile at him, my feet still off the ground.

“It’s a good thing I wasn’t drinking a Bud Light at the bar that night,” he tries to say with the utmost seriousness, but it doesn’t work.

“It wouldn’t have mattered.” I peck at his lips again. “You could’ve been drinking a Lucky Lager and I’d still love you.”

“What about a wine cooler?” he laughs.

“Now, let’s not get crazy.” I giggle.

He sets me down and brushes my hair away from my face with his finger tips.

“You know what this means, don’t you?” I ask.

He knows exactly what this means.

“Getting naked and having my way with you on your desk is probably out of the question, huh?”

I rest my palms on his strong chest. “Probably.” We grin at each other.

“The car?”

“Why don’t you just shut up and take me home, Mr. Fuller,” I say to him.

“One thing,” he pauses. I gaze up at him, and he gently brushes his lips against mine for a few seconds. “I love you too.”

Chapter Twenty

It’s date night.

Again.

But this time I really want to go. I’m not going to pout as I get dressed. I’m not second guessing my motives. The idea of going out on a real date with my new boyfriend couldn’t make me feel any happier.

It’s funny, really. Since last week when Matty and I finally confessed our love for each other—well, I finally told him I loved him, he’s been telling me he loves me for months—he hasn’t gone home. But this morning, after breakfast, he kissed me goodbye and was out the door. What a goof. He wants to pick me up and that won’t work if we both get ready at my house. So he went home.

The radio is blaring a mix of dance music, slow songs, and country throughout my house. I love setting the player to random picks and just being surprised by what comes through the speakers. After spending over an hour in the shower washing, exfoliating, moisturizing, my body feels silky smooth. It helps I shaved my legs from the tops of my thighs all the way down to my toes. I’d been doing this already, but I took special care today so I wouldn’t miss a spot. If Matty decides tonight is the night, I’m going to be ready for him.

Now that I’m in love with him, I thought we would have been screwing like horny teenagers whose parents were on vacation, but my boyfriend—I like saying it—has this odd sense of honor and thinks we should continue to wait awhile longer. He wants to show me how much he respects me by taking things slowly. I’ve never wanted anyone to respect me less. He’s really driving me crazy. I thought it was always the woman who wouldn’t give it up.

In Matty’s case, I think his reluctance might also have something to do with my house and my bed. While it was okay for us to do everything but make love in my bed before, I’m not so sure he wants to take our relationship to the next level in the same bed I slept in with Chase for so many years. Understandable, I know. But I refuse to do it at his place with three roommates roaming around, two of them being other teachers who work with us. His place reminds me of a frat house, except for his room which is all tidy and neat. I should have suspected considering the way he cleans my house and clears the table within minutes of us finishing a meal.

My place is out and so is his.

I think we’re going to have to go old school and get a room somewhere. Can you imagine? A grown man and a grown woman having to book a hotel room to have sex. Will we have to get a room every time?

Matty will be at my door in thirty minutes. My hair is flowing down my back in loose curls. My makeup is applied lightly in warm tones to match my green eyes. I’ve never been one to get flashy with my makeup and I don’t want to start now. He likes my natural look. I apply a thin layer of nude lip gloss and look at myself in the mirror. Fitted jeans, a flirty black tank dips low in the front under a charcoal gray crocheted cardigan. My heeled boots will give me a little height, maybe enough to make the top of my head clear Matty’s shoulders. Maybe.

Dangly silver earrings pierce my lobes, and a strand of tiny crystals surround my neck.

There, I’m done. Ready for my date with my boyfriend.

A knock at my door tells me I’m right on time. I knew he’d be early.

I open my door, and Matty stands before me with a bouquet of orange Gerbera daisies, my favorite flower.

“You’re so sweet,” I tell him, taking the fresh flowers from his hands and accepting his kiss on my lips. “I thought all this nice guy stuff was gonna get thrown out the window as soon as I told you I loved you.”

“Nope, get used to it, baby.” He kisses the top of my head. “This is me. You’re stuck with it.”

I roll me eyes, sarcastically. “Well, I guess I can manage.”

In the kitchen, I clip the stems of the flowers and place them in a vase. When I’m finished, Matty and I are practically skipping down my walkway to his car.

“Where to?” I ask him.

“Where do you think?” he grins.

“Well if I knew, why would I ask?” I smile at him.

“To your happiest place on earth,” he says. I tilt my head and beam at him. I couldn’t be happier with his choice of restaurants. “I figure they have a hundred different choices of beer, two Sunday night games, plenty of non-vegetarian choices of food, and air conditioning.”

“Oh, Matty, this is gonna be the best effing date I’ve ever had,” I cry out. “I’m gonna get a Guinness.”

“And I’m gonna get a Black and Tan.”

“Perfect,” I tell him, leaning over his center console to press my lips to his.

Just perfect.

Third time is a charm.

My first date was with Jacob. Then Jackson.

And now Matty.

My luck finally turned around.

Chapter Twenty One

“Rally day, baby,” I tell Matty as he brushes his teeth and I brush my hair.

He spits in the sink, and turns on the water to rinse. He wipes his mouth dry with a washcloth, and whips around so he’s facing me. With the sight of his bronze skin, fresh from the shower, and smelling so clean, I can’t help but press my mouth to his chest. He cradles my head in his hand, grasping the hair I just rid of knots. “You’re gonna make us late, baby,” he murmurs in my ear. The hum of his deep voice makes me want to call in sick and cuddle with him in bed all day.

“Like you care. You hate rallies.” I continue to kiss his neck and slide down to nip at his abs and his sides, running my fingertips along the waistband of his boxer briefs.

“I think you’re the only one who likes rally days. You and Mel anyway.” He lifts my chin from his belly and bends down to cover my mouth with his. “You’re insatiable, you know that?”

“You haven’t given me anything to satisfy my … needs,” I whine. Both of us chuckle.

He takes my breasts in his hands and hunches over to suck on the skin plumping over the cups of my bra. “Oh really,” he says. “Nothing?”

“Okay, not nothing.” My fingers run through his hair and I let out a moan when I feel the suction of his lips get harder against my nipple that he managed to free.

“That’s what I thought.” He stands up straight, smacks me in the ass, and says, “Now hurry up. We still need to have breakfast.”

“Breakfast my ass, you tease,” I scoff at him. “I’ll eat a Pop Tart.”

I watch his tight ass walk away before I take my time getting ready, dressing myself in a hot pink v-neck sweater and a pair of jeans. I even bust out my pink Chucks for the occasion. This is one of my favorite rallies of the year. I loved it when I was in high school. I think that’s when I fell in love with football, playing powder puff—girls flag football—for the Sadie Hawkins game. They boys wear cheerleading uniforms and perform a choreographed dance while the crowd goes wild.

And then there’s the dance after the game.

I asked Matty to be my date for the dance tonight. He wasn’t too thrilled to chaperone but if I have to be there, so does he.

“You look cute, Shel,” Matty says as we walk hand-in-hand to the car. Carpooling is great. I never have to drive, which is spectacular because I’ve always wanted a chauffeur. Especially one who thinks I’m cute.

The rally went smoothly and my students weren’t complete animals for the rest of the day. A thirty minute rally can really make the students do things they’d never do. Like toilet paper the quad, or spray paint “Seniors Rule” all over the school, as if defacing their own school goes down as the ultimate pledge of school spirit.

But my kids are cool. None of them were fighting, they all looked sober, and very few ditched class. Can’t say that to be true of my aide, Meg. Matty and Chase said their aides, Travis and Keesha, were M.I.A. too, so I know they went to the Steel Grille. I remember those days. Not much has changed around here since I walked the halls of Carver High.

“You ready to go,” Mel says, popping her head in my classroom.

“Yeah,” I tell her, packing the last of the projects in my bag. “I’m just waiting for Matty to get here.”

“He’s coming down the hall right now, let’s go beeyotch,” she yelps, looking around like a crack addict to see if anyone heard her. I think she’s safe. Very few kids are on campus this late.

“You ready for the game?” I ask her. “I think the juniors are going to kill the seniors this year. They have been practicing like crazy, even at the local parks when practice is over here.”

“I know, they’re gonna kill it,” Mel agrees.

Matty catches up with us and rests his arm on my shoulder.

“When Mel and I were in eleventh grade, The Program was popular.” He looks at me confused. “You know that movie about college football, when one of the guys on the defensive line goes wacko on steroids.”

He nods, “Oh yeah, yeah, I remember.”

Mel continues the story, “Well our coaches were crazy like that. Not on drugs or anything, but wild. They called us aminals. Why not animals? I have no idea. But we painted our faces for the game just like they did in the movie and the ASB class posted signs all over the place with our signature Aminal word. We were bad ass.”

“Yes, we were,” I tell her, putting my hand up for a high five.

Mel slaps my hand. “That is until the juniors stomped on our asses our senior year.”

“Why you gotta bring up old shit, Melly Belly?”

The three of us crack up, until Mel starts snorting.

“Sounds like you had some good times at this school,” Matty says.

“Yup, we sure did. I love how the traditions have been carried on. This is a special place,” I tell him.

Mel nods in agreement.

“I’m sorry,” I tell Matty, leaning into him as we make it to the car. “I’m sure you’re sick of hearing about our walks down memory lane.”

“No way,” he says, putting his fingers through my hair. “I know how much this stuff means to you, more than you know.”

He opens the car door for me, I look at him and pucker up my lips. He bends down and touches his lips to mine.

“You guys make me sick,” Mel says, making gagging noises.

“Oh shut it and get in the car, you Aminal!”

At the Yard House before the game, my mood goes from fantastic to craptastic as we walk in and see my parents waiting for a table. Surprise is not a strong enough word to express my thoughts when I see my mother standing there in a pair of jeans and Carver t-shirt.

Matty breaks the silence, going to my parents first and offering them his hand. “Mr. and Mrs. Gelson, what a surprise,” he says.

“Oh, Matt, you can call me Sandy. I think we’re beyond the formal exchanges by now.” My mother lifts her arms to give him a hug. Is she on drugs? Did someone slip her a rufie?

Matty reciprocates her hug and offers his hand to my dad.

“Matt, good to see you again. Would you guys like to join us for dinner?” he asks.

Oh no. Oh no.

“Hello, Daddy,” I interrupt, sliding my arm around his waist for a hip hug. “We’re in a hurry to get back to work. We have to chaperone a game tonight so we’re just going to eat at the bar.”

My mother stares me down. “Hi, Mother, you look very casual today.”

“Your dad and I went for a walk this afternoon and decided to stop for dinner on the way home. Since this is one of the beer establishments you rave about, I didn’t think it necessary to go home and change.” She blinks her eyes at me like she’s looking for my approval. Since when?

“You look great, totally ready to throw back a few,” I joke with her.

“Hi, guys,” Mel says, sneaking in to say hello to my parents. My mother smiles at the greeting and my dad hugs Mel and ruffles her hair.

“Well then, I guess we’ll see you later. I’ll call you. Maybe we can get together for lunch or something,” I quickly hug my parents, and try to get Matty and Mel to do the same.

“Sounds good, princess,” my dad says.

“That would be lovely,” my mother adds.

“Great seeing you again,” Matty offers the last words before we make our way into the bar area and meet up with Chase and Summer.

“Hey,” I tell them as we all squeeze in a booth.

“Did you just see your parents out there?” Chase asks.

“Don’t remind me,” I tell him.

“They can’t be that bad,” Summer says.

There’s silence as the four of us look at her.

“Well, my mom is,” I clarify.

Matty shakes his head. “No, she was pretty nice tonight.”

Mel chomps on the chips in the center of the table. “She likes you Matt. She even told you to call her Sandy.”

“And she gave you a hug,” I scoff at him.

“She hugged you?” Chase asks, like he can’t believe it.

Matty’s eyes dart from mine to Mel’s to Chase’s and back to mine. “What? That’s not normal.”

“Noooo,” we all say in unison.

The waitress interrupts us to take our orders of appetizers and one beer each. We can’t go to a school function hammered. Even though when we were in high school, we went to these very same functions more than just tipsy. But we’re adults now and we have to be responsible.

It seems like an odd combination to have the five of us at one table, but over the last month, we have all learned to get along and for the most part, enjoy each other’s company. I still sense some irritation between Mel and Summer but overall things are good. She’s not as funny as us and she takes herself way too seriously, but she’s a perfect match for Chase. She seems to make him happy and her reputation for flirting with all the male staff members has diminished so maybe she’s changed. They look like a couple in love and I’m happy for them.

Mel doesn’t look so happy though. I know she misses my brother. All her talk about Brazilian wax jobs, and being a cheetah went out the window as soon as he became her Christmas present. I knew she wouldn’t be the same once he left. I know they try to email and talk on the phone, but it’s not the same as being able to hold the one you love whenever you want to. I wish my brother would just suck it up and come home. I know he wants to. But he has really established himself up there and I don’t know if he wants to start over. Well, he wouldn’t be starting over completely. This is his home.

I’m just not sure he will make that sacrifice for her.

My biggest fear is she’s going to take off and relocate to be with Ty.

I’d kill her if she left me. For my brother.

Game time.

I have my licorice. I have my Diet Coke.

Come on ladies … kick off time.

Okay, so they’re not going to kick the ball but let’s get the show on the road.

I’m not happy about being stuck on the field. I like the view from the bleachers better but the powers that be just put us where they need us. At least, the five of us are stationed on the sidelines together. And we can all keep Summer out of everyone’s way.

The juniors are on the other side of the field and it’s a bummer we can’t switch. We all have student aides who are juniors but they got stuck doing work for ASB so they can’t play. I feel bad for them but they don’t seem bothered by it. They appear to be having a good time. It’s funny how we managed to snag up three best friends and their two little boy sidekicks. The goofballs, Travis and Josh, joined the student government class just to be close to their women.

“Those cheerleaders are funny,” Matty says in my ear.

I look over at the boys covered in makeup, pink wigs falling off their heads, cheering away.

“I could totally see you cheering in a skirt,” I yell over the noise.

He laughs. “Yeah, I probably would have.” He glances at them again, shaking his head. “Thanks for getting me out here, Shel. It’s a lot more fun once you know about all the traditions and history here. I don’t think I ever paid attention before.”

“Yeah, I know. You always sign up to work track meets.” I roll me eyes. Track meets—really?

“Hey, don’t knock it till you try it. The Fat Man Race is worth it.” We meet eyes and crack up.

“Do I even want to know?”

“You’ll have to go with me sometime,” he shouts.

“Done.”

We watch the juniors spank the seniors, completely shutting them out for the first part of the game.

Matty puts his hand on my shoulder. “Hey, I’ll be right back. I gotta take a leak and I wanna be back for the half time show.”

“Okay.” He kisses the top of my head and jogs off the field.

“Damn, Matty’s taking forever,” I shout to Mel. “He’s gonna miss the crowning.”

Mel rolls her eyes at me. “Like he cares. He’s probably in the parking lot drinking beer with Chase.” I look around. He’s gone too.

“Those bastards. Matty was just saying he didn’t want to miss it.”

“Was that before or after you chopped off his balls and put them in your purse?” she teases me.

She’s probably right.

“Ms. Cruz, Ms. Gelson, Ms. McGallian, we need your help,” a little mousy girl calls out to us.

“Okay, hon, whatcha need?” Mel asks her.

“We need one teacher to stand with each one of the guys. There’s a rumor something might go down so we need to have more teachers out there. One of the guys found out his girl cheated on him with one of the other guys. It’s dumb, but it would make the principal feel better.”

“Alright, alright,” Mel says. And the three of us walk on the field spreading out with two other staff members till we’re all paired up with one of the boys.

Dumb. These losers are going to fight about some girl on their big night. If I knew which two were the culprits I’d tell them what idiots they are.

The National Anthem blares through the speakers, and I put my hand to my chest. Looking toward the gates and the sidelines, Matty still isn’t anywhere in sight. Well, I guess if I was a dude, the high school king’s court halftime show wouldn’t be on my top ten list of events to oversee.

Bummer though. I wanted him to see how cute it is when the Tiger runs around the field before kneeling down in front of the winner and crowning the King. It’s always so exciting to see the parents react and the cheers in the crowd.

Oh, here comes the Tiger now.

“I’m Too Sexy,” sings through the speakers and the Tiger shakes her booty, and swings her tail around. How cute.

Here she comes. She’s doing her fake out moves.

Is it the first prince?

Nope.

She dances near the prince on the right.

Nope.

The one in the middle.

Nope.

Oh, his mom looks so disappointed.

She’s going Mel’s way. Her prince is going to win.

Nope.

Oh shit … the kid I’m next to is going to win.

But the Tiger is not kneeling in front of the prince. Can’t she see out of that big head?

She’s standing in front of me.

Mel walks over to me and points to the bleachers.

Oh. My. God.

A giant sign spreads from one end to the other and it has to be at least four feet tall.

It reads:

Ms. G, Will You Marry Mr. Fuller?

Tears fill my eyes as I look down at the Tiger kneeling before me.

“Matty?” His name barely escapes my mouth.

My dad appears behind the Tiger and starts to lift off his mask.

Oh goodness. I look at Mel to tell me this is real. Tears stream down her face, as my brother holds her in his arms. Tyler. He’s here.

I look back at Matty, kneeling, smiling, tears in his eyes, and I can’t believe I love him more than I did already. He sheds his giant paw gloves and my mother places something in his hands.

He holds up a square chocolate covered gourmet rice crispy treat.

“Will you marry me, Shelly Gelson?”

I look closer and sticking out from the middle of the dessert is a very nicely sized diamond ring.

“Oh, hell yes, Matt Fuller. Hell frickin’ yes!”

He takes the ring out, gives the treat to Mel, and rises to his feet.

“I love you, Shel,” he says, his beautiful blue eyes sparkling through a sea of tears.

“And I love you, Matty.”

He slides the ring on my finger for a perfect fit.

Just like us.

Epilogue

It’s my wedding day.

Impatient me is not a fan of long engagements, and neither is Matty, so just a few months after his amazing and well-planned proposal, we’re already getting hitched.

Spring break is always a good time for weddings. We will get married today, and then tomorrow, we’re setting sail on a cruise for a week.

My mother tried to talk us out of it, of course. I mean, how can she possibly plan a wedding fit for a debutante in just two months. When Matty reminded her I’m a far cry from a southern belle, she backed off. My mother loves him, and he knows exactly how to handle her without her even knowing it. Matty has really taken a liking to my mother, probably because he misses his own. His mother died when he was in college, and he never knew his dad. So my family has just gobbled him up.

My brother especially. I’m starting to think they’re having an internet affair, constantly emailing each other or posting lame videos on each other’s Facebook pages. They even connect through their video game consoles, wearing headsets, speaking into microphones, and blasting each other to pieces.

Mel comes into the dressing room. “Are you ready, Shel?”

“Definitely,” I tell her, taking one last look in the full length mirror. My hair has been curled and pulled to the side in a loose ponytail. My makeup is soft as usual. But I really love my dress. I feel like a princess. A heart-shaped strapless dress in satin is fitted past my hips before it spreads out into a full gown with layers of tule underneath. Beads and lace cover the upper part of the dress and the lights will help them to sparkle as I walk down the aisle.

“You look stunning, Shelly,” she says, a lone tear rolling down her cheek.

“Shut it,” I tell her softly. “You’re gonna ruin your makeup.”

We both smile.

“You’re first.” I gesture to the door, and she walks out holding a bouquet made of stems of orange Gerbera daisies. My own bouquet is similar to hears, just a bit bigger with all white daisies. My mom almost had a stroke when I refused roses. Daisies are my thing.

I watch Mel walk out the door, and I’m so grateful I have her as my best friend, my sister.

Matty and I are having only two people in our wedding. My maid of honor and his best man. Mel and Tyler. The two most important people in our lives.

But ... our guest list is a bit larger. Like the size of a school. We decided to do something that’s never been done before.

When I walk down the aisle to meet Matty, I will be walking down the aisle of our school auditorium. It’s time to make some new memories at my school, and the venue couldn’t be more beautiful.

We invited the entire staff, and most of our students, including some special ones we had in the past. Neither one of us has a large family so the bulk of our guests are from work.

Maybe this is one reason workplace relationships shouldn’t be frowned upon. Because if they weren’t, we’d all be invited to a lot more parties.

“It’s time, princess,” my daddy says. He holds out his hand to me. “I’m very happy for you, Shelly. You have found yourself a good man. I wish you many years of happiness.” He kisses my cheek, and wraps my hand around the crook of his arm.

“Thanks, Daddy,” I murmur. I release a deep breath and tell him, “Let’s do this.”

The doors fly open and I can hear the bridal procession begin.

Here I come, Matt Fuller.

I lock eyes with his the whole way, and we smile. I notice the creases in the corners of his eyes are magnified with happiness and his baby blues sparkle in the spotlight.

When I reach him, he takes my hands in his and the joy I feel is overwhelming.

We say our vows, exchange rings, and when my husband kisses me for the first time, I shiver with excitement as tears stream down my face.

“I’m so glad you fell in love with me, Shelly.”

“And I’m glad you were so confident that I would.”

He kisses me again before we turn around to see our family, friends, and students.

The minister says, “I now introduce to you for the very first time: Mr. and Mrs. Matthew Fuller.”

As we make our way out of the auditorium, I think back to the evening on the football field and can’t believe Matty did all that for me. He actually pulled it off and I had absolutely no idea. After the surprise engagement, we all went back to my parent’s house, where I learned Matty had visited my parents to ask for my hand in marriage. From that moment, my parents accepted him into our family with full hearts and open arms.

Talk about new traditions. Maybe Matty started one. Maybe next year, someone will follow his lead and propose marriage on the fifty yard line with a rice crispy snack and a giant sign. Our aides rolled up the banner for us and it’s like a foot in diameter squished in the corner of our closet. But I had to keep it.

My rice crispy treat is still in the freezer at our new home. We bought a three bedroom house together close to work. We got lucky on a thirty day escrow and have been living there for two weeks, taking care to christen every room with our love making.

We never made it to the dance the night of the engagement, but we did make it to a fancy hotel with a Jacuzzi tub, a giant bed, and plenty of wall space.

It’s crazy I’m even thinking about this now. How many other “just married” brides walk back down the aisle smiling at their guests thinking about the first time she made love to her brand spanking new husband? Not many, I’d guess. Leave it to me.

But I can’t help it.

When we entered our hotel room on our engagement night, we both knew what was going to happen. There wasn’t a doubt in our minds. Matty plopped our bags down on the leather bench seat at the foot of the king sized bed. He looked at me with his hands on his hips and grinned.

I smiled back, wondering how long it would take for us to get naked.

He stepped toward me, pushing his chest to mine, till I backed up against a wall.

“How’s this?” he had asked.

“It’ll work,” I answered, remembering The Notebook.

He covered my mouth with his, and kissed me deeply, our tongues tangled together, my palms were pressed flat against the wall holding me steady, and Matty’s fingers weaved in my hair. Without touching him, the pressure of his kiss had my senses on high alert. He sucked hard on my bottom lip before dragging his mouth down my neck, and yanking open my hot pink cardigan. Buttons popped off along the way, and he cupped my right breast in one hand as he lifted my shirt with his other.

With a moistened kiss planted to my belly, I could almost hear a sizzle as his tongue flitted across my skin. He unfastened the buttons on my jeans with one hand, and with each press of his lips on my navel, and my hips, my pants slid down my waist and then my thighs. When Matty pulled down my black panties, he traced the path with his warm tongue and I almost came right then, but he stopped me.

“Oh, no you don’t,” he said. “We haven’t even gotten to the good part.”

“Shit, Matty, I don’t know if I can handle anymore,” I told him, through heavy breaths.

With a quick kiss pressed to my sex, he stood to lift me and pin me against the wall. I could feel his erection rubbing against me and I wanted nothing more than his jeans to disappear. It was as if Matty could hear me because he put me down and without ever removing his lips from mine, he kicked off his shoes, yanked on his pants, and both them and his boxer briefs shimmied to the floor.

My hand shot to his shaft, my fingers strummed along his smooth skin and I had the impulse to bend down and take him into my mouth in one big gulp of flesh. I felt him slide across my tongue as my mouth opened, and my lips closed around him, just one slow glide down his length, and one pulsing glide up. He gasped when the wet suction of my lips lingered on his head, and I squeezed my fingernails into his ass.

Then, I let him go, and our lips found each other once more.

He lifted me again and I tried to raise my legs to wrap around his core, but I couldn’t. My jeans and shoes were still on and we laughed. He found the hem of one of my pant legs and yanked it over my shoe. I shook my foot loose from one side of my panties, and his hands dropped from my ass to my thighs. The next time when he propelled me against the wall, my legs were free to encircle him.

Within seconds, I felt Matty plunge inside me. He didn’t tease me with just a little at a time, he went hard and deep and my eyes almost popped out of my head as I took him in all at once.

I gasped, groaned, moaned, and ohmygoded all at the same time.

Matty buried his head in my neck, breathing heavily, and said, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to do it like that.”

“It’s okay. It’s great actually, but...” I managed to say, digging my pink high-top Chucks into his backside. “This can’t be comfortable for you.”

With Matty still pulsing inside me, we continued the conversation. “This is a lot more difficult than it looks. What’s her name wasn’t wearing skinny jeans and Converse in the movie,” he said through a chuckle.

“Take me to the bed, Matty,” I told him.

With my ass cupped in his strong grip, Matty walked me over to the bed. I placed one hand on the leather bench stabilizing myself to tear off my Chucks and peel off my jeans. Though, in a flash of movement I wasn’t expecting, I was on my elbows and knees on the bed. Matty massaged my bottom while his erection poked at my flesh from behind. I reached down and guided him inside, and he thrust his hips as I backed into him slow and steady. I explored the action, allowing my fingers to feel him sliding in and out. When I grasped his balls in my hand, I backed into him harder, this time circling my hips in tune with each stroke.

I gasped, groaned, moaned, and ohmyGoded yet again, and more than once.

Matty withdrew himself from me, and grasped my ass tightly, holding on like he was willing himself to hang on just a bit longer.

I dropped to my stomach and rolled over, my pants still tangled around one of my ankles, and only the laces of one shoe loosened.

Matty stood and hiked my foot on his thigh to take it off. Once both shoes were removed, he tossed my jeans and panties to the side as well. He pulled his shirt over his head and climbed into bed with me as I got rid of my tee and bra.

Finally, we were both naked.

He kissed my nose first and told me he loved me.

I sat up and positioned myself so I straddled him, took him in my hand, and let myself envelop around him. I pressed my breasts to his chest and he traced his hands up and down my back, the pads of his fingertips sending tingles like pin pricks across my body.

The rotation of my hips allowed me to grind my love button against him, and plunged him deeper and deeper into the heart of my sex. Matty’s hands squeezed my hips, and I noticed his teeth biting down on the corner of his bottom lip. The intense look on his face did me in. I could only last for a minute or so more before I collapsed on his chest, feeling the pulse between my legs tighten in spasms as we both released.

Matty yanked on my arms and pulled me down to him for our first after sex kiss. It was peck after peck to my lips, my neck, my throat, my chest, before I rolled over next to him.

We both sighed, and I thought, I could definitely get used to this. This man is all mine. Forever.

Of course, I was the first to say something. “Holy son of a sex fest,” I had yelped, still panting like I just finished the L.A. marathon. He chuckled, and I continued. “I so didn’t expect our first time to last so long.”

He chuckled again, and ran his fingers through his dampened hair. “I kinda shot one off this morning in the shower.” He paused, and touched a gentle kiss to my nose. “To get ready for tonight.”

“Well, thank you,” I said, cracking up too. We spooned for the rest of the evening, and woke up early in the morning for another round of love making to make up for all the time I’d wasted before telling the man, who I’d soon marry, I loved him.

And now, leaving this auditorium hand-in-hand with my best friend, and now husband, I just can’t help but smile with such giddy satisfaction.

It finally happened.

I finally found a man who loves me enough to nail me against the wall.

The end.

Dear Readers,

Thank you so much for giving Against the Wall a shot. I really loved delving into the lives of these young and fun teachers, and I hope you did too.

Please take time to rate and/or review Against the Wall on Goodreads, Smashwords, and your retails store sites. Your words mean so much to me, and to the success of this book.

In the spirit of addictive social media, spread the words. Tweet about Against the Wall. You can also follow me on Twitter, and like my Facebook pages.

Keep turning the pages for a preview of Mel and Tyler’s story. What’s to come for them? I’m not sure, but it’s been fun trying to figure it out.

Yours truly,

Julie Prestsater

Mel & Tyler ...

"Can I have this dance, pretty lady?" Tyler holds out his hand, one side of his mouth rising in a sexy grin.

I glance up at him, trying to resist his adorable appeal. "Lady, huh? Do I look fifty to you?"

"Come on now, Mel. Don't be such a smart ass. Isn't it customary for the best man to dance with the maid of honor?" He puts his hands on his hips and smiles.

"Well, if I must." I stand up, with a sigh, and he engulfs my teeny hand in his strong grip. I've never felt more safe and loved before in my entire life than when I’m with Tyler. This is what this man does to me. With the slightest touch, my insides swirl around like the spin cycle of a washing machine. But the unease isn't all about the sparks flying between us. I'm just plain sad. I only have one week with him and then he's off again. How can I get that out of my mind long enough to enjoy the time we do have together? It doesn't seem possible.

When we reach the hard wood dance floor, he takes my right hand in his, and wraps his left arm around me, resting his palm slightly above my bottom. I can feel his embrace get tighter as he leans down to nuzzle my neck. Inhaling the scent that's so distinctively his, I get lightheaded and brace myself against his chest so I don't slither down his body into a pile of mush.

I don't think I can ever love anyone more than I love Tyler. I've loved him almost my entire life. I've waited half my life for him to hold me like this and my heart aches knowing that it will soon be over, again.

How many times can I really put myself through this? When he left after winter break, I'll admit it. I cried. Shelly doesn't know that and neither does Tyler. They both think I'm this strong Latina woman with tough skin. Especially since I got over my divorce rather quickly. That was easy though. The mother trucker was cheating on me with some nasty ass blonde bimbo from work. As if I was going to waste my time fretting over a man who never had enough time for me, yet he had plenty to be screwing some colleague on his cherry wood desk at work. No thank you. Seeing your husband and his mistress all wrapped up with your very own eyes does a lot for the recovery of a broken heart.

But damn me for not being able to resist my best friend's brother. I'd kept him at arm's length in high school and in college, but recently, at the first opportunity, we're doing the wild thing in Shelly's spare bedroom. I wonder if she's noticed she needs a new mattress in there. Those springs are way too squeaky.

The song plays on. Adele wailing about someone who did her wrong. This is so not wedding music. It makes me want to slit my wrists. Figuratively, of course.

Tyler loosens his grip. "What are you thinking about, Melly Belly?" Gosh I used to hate it when people called me that. But with Tyler, it's like a sweet love song whispering in my ears.

"I'm thinking about how depressing this song is," I tell him, looking up into his almond-shaped green eyes.

He chuckles. "Yeah, pretty grim for a wedding, huh?" he responds.

“More appropriate for a funeral.”

“Wedding. Funeral. Aren’t they synonymous? I'm sure Matt feels like his life is ending right now."

I smack him in the chest. He throws his head back with a big belly laugh causing all the guests who were enjoying the sad song to look our way. He snuggles me close again, still giggling in my ear. I can actually feel the goofball still shaking with laughter and it makes my heart melt even more.

"You guys look like you're having way to much fun over here. You been hittin' the bar without me, Mel?" Shelly asks.

"Oh no, your brother hear is just full of jokes." I punch him in the arm. Then I tell her what he said. Matt laughs along with him until Shel swings her trademark back hand into his chest. That's my girl.

"Let's go get a drink," Shel says, linking her arm in mine. "These two knuckleheads can dance with each other."

I can't help but crack up when she orders a beer at the bar. Here she is, in this gorgeous gown, beautiful hair, and stunning makeup, looking like the bell of the ball, elegant from head to toe. And she has a bottle of Newcastle in her hand. Not even a glass. The bartender offered and she looked at him like he was crazy, as if he offended her.

She takes a swig and lets out a big "Ahhh" sound.

"Nice, Shel. Very lady like," I tease her.

"Oh excuse me," she snickers. "Let me put my pinky up. Is that better?"

We both laugh.

"Here's to a life full of love, happiness, and wild sex against the wall?" I toast to her.

She clinks her bottle of beer against my rather large glass of Stella Rosa sweet red wine.

"How about just wild sex anywhere? Against the wall sounds all hot and sexy and all. But it's not all that practical. Downright uncomfortable if you ask me. We’ve tried."

My bestie is way to frickin funny. Just when I thought my night was headed south, she comes up with this goofy shit and I can't help but laugh and smile.

"Thanks," I say.

"For what?" she asks.

"Just because."

I don't have the heart to ruin her day with my misery. I doubt she'd want to hear about how crappy I feel about her brother leaving me, yet again. After winter break, I thought I could handle it. Then when he came back for Valentine's day, when Matt proposed to Shelly in front of the entire school, I knew things were going to be difficult. We spent the weekend together before he went back home to San Francisco, and we've been Skyping, talking on the phone, and texting. But that can only do so much. My heart aches for him the moment he's gone and my body yearns for his touch.

I should really just shut up and enjoy the week we have together before we go back to work.

"Hey," Shel says, startling me.

"What?"

"Do me a favor, would ya?"

"Anything for the most beautiful bride I've ever seen," I tell her.

She turns to me and looks into my eyes. This is serious.

"Promise me to forget that Tyler is leaving on Sunday. Pretend like he's not going anywhere. And just let yourself be happy." She squeezes my shoulder and pulls me toward the dance floor.

"Am I that obvious?" I question.

"I know you better than yourself. So promise."

"I promise. I swear to have a week full of happiness, love, and wild sex against the wall with your brother." I grin at her, and she raises a brow at me.

She shakes her head, saying, "T.M.I., Melly Belly, T.M.I."

We make our way back to the dance floor, drinks in hand, already bobbing to the beat.

“Now this is a song I can get down to,” Ty says as we reach the guys.

“Get down on it,” I tell him, listening to Kool and the Gang blaring from the speakers. “Really.”

“They just don’t make songs like this anymore,” Matt adds, with a chuckle.

Shelly finishes a gulp of her beer and then says, “Yeah, now the songs just say ‘fuck me’ and ‘blow me’ rather than trying to be so vague. You really think this song is about dancing?”

“True dat, sista,” I agree with her in our ridiculous slang speak. You just never know when it’s going to creep up on you, and then Shel and I start talking like we’re chillin’ with Snoop Dog.

“Why don’t you both just zip it and dance?” Ty jokes. He shimmies closer to me, and takes the glass from my hand. After setting it down on a nearby table, he struts his way back over to me, where he grabs both of my hands in his and starts wiggling me around. He turns me around, resting his hands on my hips and squeezing. I back myself up into his lap, and we spend the rest of the night grinding and freaking like a bunch of high schoolers at prom. Good thing we don’t have any chaperones here to split us apart.

The reception is coming to a close and Matt and Shel are getting ready to make their departure. I still can’t believe they’ve stayed as long as they have. I would’ve been gone a long time ago and been doing some serious damage back in the hotel room. But, I’m glad she did stay. Dancing and singing with her all night has brought back so many memories. It felt just like old times.

I can still picture our sophomore homecoming dance like it was yesterday. My date was a total dickhead and he left me hanging. Ryan only asked me to make his ex-girlfriend jealous. I wish I would’ve known that before I said yes. When we got to the dance, the ex got all possessive and wanted nothing to do with her own date. She just had to pick the dance as the place to stake her claim and ask Ryan to get back together. Luckily, Ty and his date were fairing just as well as I was. His date was just interested in dancing with all her girlfriends the entire night and she totally ignored him. I wanted to slap her and tell her she didn’t know what she was thinking not taking advantage of her time with such an awesome and gorgeous guy. I would have totally given my entire collection of New Kids on the Block buttons and posters to go anywhere on a date with Tyler at that time. Not that I would have ever admitted it.

Tyler saw me holding up the wall while watching Shel and her high school sweetheart, Chase, dance with each other like their love depended on it. Those two were so cute at the time. They looked into each other’s eyes, smiling, leaning in for a peck ever so often, while the danced to song after song. They wouldn’t have cared if I joined them, but watching them was so much more fun. Or heart breaking, maybe. Because I wished more than anything to have a relationship like theirs. Maybe it was a good thing that I didn’t. Shelly sure as hell didn’t marry Chase today, thank you.

Just when I thought I might burst with jealousy, Ty came over and threw his arm around me. Even then, he was so much taller than I was, so I looked up into his bright green eyes and he lifted the side of his mouth in a soft smile. He knew I was feeling down. He never asked me, but he knew. He pulled me into a side hug, squeezing my shoulder and resting his head on mine.

“My date ditched me, Melly Belly?” he said, pouting his lips jokingly. “Will you save my reputation of being a stud and dance with me?”

We walked out on that dance floor, and he pretended like he’d wouldn’t rather be with anyone else other than me. He never mentioned anything about how my asshole date left me in the lurch. He made it seem like he was the one who needed saving, when in reality, he could’ve had any other girl there within seconds.

Instead, he was mine.

For the night.

Just like now.

But this time, I get a week before he turns back into a pumpkin.

About the Author

This is Julie’s first adult romance novel. She has also written three young adult books. Against The Wall is actually a spinoff from her teen series. The Double Threat novels focus on the high school years of Megan Miller, who is Shelly Gelson’s student aide. If you haven’t already, check them out. The first three books, So I’m a Double Threat, Double Threat My Bleep, and Double Time are available now. Julie is also the author of You Act So White, a multicultural teen novel about staying true to one’s self in the face of peer pressure and racial tension. Julie recently released another adult romance, More Than A Friend Request—a short, sweet, and sexy read.

Acknowledgments

I’d like to send a major shout out to my mama, Dolores Aguilera. I don’t know what I’d do without her endless support and multiple reads. I love you. To my bestie since the fourth grade, Lyndsi “Sausages” Hanley, thanks so much for all the feedback and taking time out of your busy schedule to edit ATW. Having you around since the fourth grade has finally paid off. HAHA. JK! I love you. And to, Christina Houser, thank you so very much for your enthusiasm for my writing. Your exceptional feedback and editing skills have been invaluable. Thank you for allowing me to drop off pages and pages of severely jacked up writing and turning it into something readable.

Finally, I’d like to thank my family for their undying support. While you may joke about me having a laptop permanently attached to my body, your words of encouragement are always heard and appreciated. Love you, guys.

Credits

© 2012 Julie Prestsater

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of a reviewer using brief passages.

This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, and real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Cover Photo: © Yuri Arcurs | Dreamstime.com

Visit Julie on the Web at www.juliepbooks.com.

Table of Contents

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Epilogue

Dear Readers

Mel & Tyler

About the Author

Acknowledgments

Credits