The wedding had been the first time that it had truly hit me that JC was likely not coming back. That everyone had someone but me. I’d gotten the point from the lopsided table seating of the bridal party, but just to be sure I understood, the gods of clarity directed Laynie’s bouquet to my open arms when she’d thrown it. I’d stood there clutching onto the cherry-speckled cymbidiums for several minutes after the crowd of women had dispersed, letting the awkwardness settle over me. The coldness. It was a cruel reality to face. JC had led me out of my emotional shell only to feel heartbreak. By then, it had been ten months since JC had left me. If I’d gotten pregnant the last time we’d made love, I’d thought, I would have had my baby by now.
Ten months and not a word.
Then I’d looked up, my eyes glassy from unshed tears, and there was this sweet kid who wanted nothing but to take me into a dark hidden place on the Botanical Gardens grounds and stick his cock in me for a little while. I’d decided right then that I had two choices—either I could go back to being the stony bitch I’d been before JC or I could use the things he’d taught me to try to be a more content person.
So I let Hudson’s college freshman brother do me against a tree.
We’d both come. And I’d felt a little better. Better enough to give him my phone number. Better enough to let there be repeats of the event.
I’d been honest from the beginning. “No strings. No romance. No commitment.” It had been the deal that JC and I had meant to have once upon a time. But with JC, I’d known almost immediately how impossible that agreement was going to be to keep.
Chandler had agreed to my terms. He wasn’t interested in getting seriously involved with anyone, let alone an older woman. Besides, he had plenty of other girls he was banging, most his age. But he liked having me in his rotation because, honestly, I was a pretty boast-worthy fuck buddy. Our arrangement had mutual benefits. He got off with a “hot chick who knew things”—his words—and I had something to occupy my downtime.
We’d kept all our rendezvousing at The Sky Launch, at first. He’d meet me early, when I was getting off of work, before he had to get to class. We’d do our thing, decide when we’d meet again—usually a few days later—and that would be it. Only recently, after a close encounter with Alayna one morning, had we moved things to my apartment.
Though he hadn’t been a replacement for JC whatsoever, Chandler had been good for me. He’d helped keep me from withdrawing into myself. And, for the most part, the sex was decent. As long as I took care of my own stimulation, I’d usually climax, and in the short moments of blissful release, I was always able to forget how desolate I was the rest of the time.
It was a good arrangement. In different circumstances, JC might have been proud.
But something had changed in the last week or so. Something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
Chandler returned from the bathroom, and I eyed him as he zipped up his pants. The Pierce family certainly had good genes—Chandler was a hot guy. Hotter than a teenager had the right to be with his piercing blue eyes and sharp cheekbones. From what I could tell, he was pretty well-sculpted too. I’d never actually seen him with his clothes off, another one of my rules, but when my back was pressed against his chest, he felt toned. He’d be a good catch for someone one day. The girls were probably already trying to pin him down.
Now that I thought about it, he hadn’t really mentioned any of the other women he was doing in a while, and he used to do that fairly often.
I tilted my head at him. “Things still going well with that one girl?”
He stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked around the room. “You’ll have to be more specific than that one girl.”
“The one you said you’d seen a few times. You’d actually stayed the night at her house. Melissa? Or Melanie?” There were so many. He was really quite a playboy.
“Melanie is old news. It was Molly you’re thinking of.” He toed off one shoe and then the other.
“Molly, then. Hey, what are you doing?”
He shrugged. “Just getting comfortable. Molly is finished too. She was…clingy.”
Now I knew what the problem was. “Oh, no. No. You can’t get comfortable. That’s not part of the deal.”
He sat on the couch and stretched his feet out onto the coffee table, one ankle crossed over the other. “Come on. Hudson said he didn’t need me in the office until tomorrow and it’s your day off, right? So I could just chill here a while.”
Making himself comfortable, loss of interest in other women…