Scoring Big, page 6
The head of my cock notches into her opening and even through the latex I feel the heat and slickness. She watches my face as she takes me inside.
“Fuck, that’s gorgeous,” I groan. “Look at you…all smooth and pink…taking me…take it all.”
“I want it all.” She sucks in a breath and takes me deeper, her eyes flickering.
I grip her hips. “Slow, baby. Nice and easy…there…”
She blows out a breath, her lips forming a tiny o, then inhales again. Her inner muscles are snug and slippery, squeezing me. “It’s…good. I’m okay. You’re filling me so deep.”
“I like that. Okay?”
“Yeah.”
Then we’re there. All the way. Her hands flat on my chest, she sits on my cock, pulsing around me, and our eyes meet again.
“Ohhhh. Wow.”
“Yeah.” I bite my bottom lip, trying to stop myself from bucking up into her like a madman. Then I gently lift her hips.
She moves with me…up…back down…up…long, smooth, slick glides of flesh, nerve endings prickling. My balls draw up tight.
She moves faster, riding me hard, her tits jiggling, a rosy flush spreading from between them up into her face. She leans down to kiss me and our tongues tangle, teeth clicking, lips smashing together, both of us crazed with the need to fuck and come.
I hold her tits, pinch her nipples, lose myself in her sweet pussy milking me. So close, so goddamn close, but she has to come first.
So I grab her waist and lift her off me. She gasps as I spin her down to her back on the couch and climb over her in a smooth move.
“Whoa.”
I grin as I take my cock in my hand to enter her again. I penetrate deeply, watching her face go lax. She pulls her knees back and I sink even deeper into her.
“Oh God. That’s amazing.”
I study her, gloriously messy and flushed, one of my hands pressing to her lower abdomen, the other finding her clit. I circle it and her breathing hitches, and when I press more firmly on her stomach I feel myself moving inside her and she cries out. “Jesus!”
Her clit is swollen and I slick up more of that sweet nectar and smear it around, and around.
“Just…a little…” She shifts her pelvis and my finger slips left. “There… oh yeah…oh God…oh God!” Her back arches, her abs tighten and the blush on her skin deepens. She contracts around me so tightly I nearly lose it. So close…
I stroke her until her head is tossing, then stretch out over her between her legs and rock my hips, fucking into her in fast hard strokes. Her hands move up and down my ribs, over my shoulders, my neck, my hair. We bite at each other’s lips, my stomach grinding against her, my thighs quaking as tension torques and builds at the base of my spine then explodes outward in ecstatic, hard waves.
I collapse over her, gulping for air, my heart wild. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. When I can move, I shift to the side, drag my eyes open and look at her.
Our eyes meet. The world slows and narrows. “What the hell, Carly.”
Her big eyes gaze back at me, pupils blown. “Yeah. What the hell.”
7
CARLY
“I’ll walk you home.”
I smile at Nate. “Okay, thanks.”
I don’t need to be walked home, but it turns out I like being with him.
I take a last look around his apartment. The whole place is color-coordinated in shades of gray and white and charcoal—the living room with pale gray furniture (one chair sporting a pink stain that appears to be fruit juice), the sleek kitchen with two ovens, his bedroom with a big charcoal upholstered bed, and the bathroom that’s all shiny white and silver and Carrera marble with subtle gray veining. The floors are all a light wood and big pieces of modern art in similar shades hang on white walls.
“Thanks for a fun evening,” he says as we walk. “I had a really good time.”
I smile up at Nate. “I did too. Thank you.”
When we arrive at Gianna’s building, we stop on the sidewalk out front. “I’d like to see you again.” His eyes move over my face.
Yessss. “Me too.”
The corners of his lips lift. “I’ll call you.”
“Okay.”
He bends his head and brushes his lips over mine, then deepens the kiss. I could get lost in it all over again. Never mind the cars passing by or people walking their dogs. All there is, is his mouth, his scent, the heat radiating off his hard body. Damn.
He pulls back with a smile that crinkles his eyes. “Bye.”
“Bye.”
I climb the steps to the door and watch him stride confidently away.
Then I sigh and float into Gianna’s apartment.
She looks up at me and grins. I texted to let her know I wouldn’t be home last night. “Hey.”
“Hey.” I drop my purse on a chair and throw myself onto the couch beside Imani. “I’m so tired.”
“No sleep?” Imani accompanies the question with an exaggerated wink.
“Not much.” I smile.
“Tell me everything,” Gianna says.
“He made me breakfast.”
“Nice.”
“I really like him.”
“And his wang?”
I choke on a laugh. “Oh my God. Let’s just say it’s…satisfying.”
“Excellent.”
“We went on a jazz cruise,” I tell her dreamily. “Then dinner. Then back to his place. His daughter had a sleepover. Did I mention that I really like him?”
“This is so great!”
“Well, let’s not get too excited. I don’t have a job or a place to live. I need to focus on that before I worry about finding a boyfriend.”
“You can do both.”
“Maybe? I need a nap. But I have to go look at a few more apartments this afternoon.”
“Okay. Want me to come with you?”
“Sure! That would be great, if you have time.”
“My Saturday is open. And you can tell me more details about your sleepover.”
“Ha.”
I go shower and change, then head out with Gianna. My steps are dragging, but I don’t regret a moment of last night.
“Tell me more about this man,” Gianna says on the subway. “He’s divorced?”
“Yes. But it sounds amicable. She fell for someone else but at least she didn’t cheat on him.” I shake my head. “That sucks, though. And he really loves his daughter.”
“That’s awesome.”
“He was amazing,” I tell her. “His body is perfect; he’s strong and physical, but also considerate and generous. I’m melting into a puddle of lust all over again just talking about him.” Ten minutes later I realize I haven’t shut up about him. “God, stop me,” I say with a laugh.
She grins. “It’s kind of cute. But I’ll change the subject. I’m thinking of having breast reduction surgery.”
I gape at her. “What?”
She shrugs.
“That was quite a shift. Why are you thinking about doing that?” Well, I don’t really have to ask. Gianna is curvy everywhere, and she does have large breasts.
“The usual reasons. I’ll be more comfortable. My back and neck hurt and I have big dents in my shoulders.”
“Well.”
“Also the skin under my boobs gets irritated.” She sighs.
“It’s expensive, isn’t it?”
“Yes. I have the money saved up. I told myself if I could do that, then I should go for it. But now I’m hesitating.”
“Why are you hesitating?”
“I don’t like pain. Having surgery for something that technically isn’t needed—like, in a life-saving way—seems masochistic.”
“It’s not masochistic. I get that surgery involves pain, but you’re in pain now.”
“True.”
“I guess there are always risks.”
“Yes, and I’ve thought at length about every one of them.”
“I bet. Um, what does Isaac think about it?” Isaac is her boyfriend.
She slants me a look that’s a bit amused and a bit chiding. “They’re not his breasts.”
I scrunch my nose up. “Of course they’re not. It’s totally your decision. I just wondered if he’s supportive.”
“Ah. Well, he is. He loves my boobs, but he’s in agreement that it’s my body.”
“That’s good. Do you have a doctor you’d go to?”
“Yeah. I did a lot of research and I’ve been for a consultation. He has a good rep and seemed to know what he was doing. He explained everything very clearly.”
“Well, I think you’ve done everything you can to make sure it’s as successful as possible. And if it’s something you want, you should go for it. Imagine yourself doing things that are uncomfortable now, like…”
“Running. I’m so jealous every time you go for a run. Even with the best sports bra, it’s uncomfortable for me.”
“There you go. We can run together when you’re ready.”
“You’re the best.”
“Aw, thanks. And don’t worry about after the surgery. The other girls and I will take care of you. Although hopefully I’m not actually living there anymore.”
She laughs.
It’s good having her there with me to look at apartments. She immediately nixes one based on the outside of the building, and gives me her honest opinions of the others. And she keeps me focused on apartments instead of reliving exciting moments from last night.
We pick up dinner on our way home and it eat on the couch, watching TV with Lorelei. I’d give anything to have my own space and be alone for a while. The places we saw were all crap. I’m beginning to think the apartment with the guy in his bike helmet and underwear wasn’t so bad. I repress a sigh and settle into the couch with my laptop do some research for my book. I’m doing this.
To Be a Man.
No—Be a Man.
Hell yeah! Finally I have a title. That just flashed into my head. My research around gender and traditionally defined masculinity is coming together. I need to interview some men about some of my ideas around strength and vulnerability, relationships, body image, sex and sexuality, racial justice, fatherhood and…
Nate has a whole hockey team full of men.
Nah, I barely know him. I can’t interview him.
I’ve already asked Isaac if I can interview him and his friend Andres, who’s Black. I want to talk to diverse men. I talked to Jim Madden about fatherhood before I left Paris and I have my notes from those conversations. I’ll find other men.
Wow. I feel like I’m actually making progress with this idea.
* * *
Nate
* * *
“How was the date last night?”
“Fucking fantastic.” I grin at Bergie. I’m at his place to pick up Quinn, but she’s still outside with Mandy and the kids.
“Got some action, huh.”
“Maybe.”
He laughs. “Coffee?”
“Sure.” I follow him into the kitchen where he has a pot of coffee already brewed. He pours me a cup and we sit at the big island.
“How did you meet this girl?”
“We met in the park. Quinn started talking to her.”
“Ah. Using the munchkin as bait.”
I snort. “As if. Nothing happened that time. Other than my knee gave out and I fell on the ground right in front of her.”
Bergie laughs uproariously. “Seriously?”
“Oh yeah.” I make a face. “I thought I’d never see her again. Then we ran into her again when we were going for ice cream. I was on crutches and she took pity on us and got the ice cream for us.”
“Kids and crutches. Work every time.”
“Jesus.” I shake my head.
“Are you gonna see her again?”
“I hope so.”
“Hmmm. That’s…different for you.”
“I know.” I stare at my coffee for a moment. “I’m tired of just hooking up all the time. I’m…” I pause. “I’m kinda lonely. And horny.”
He laughs again. “I get it.”
“I think I want someone around for more than just one night. And Carly’s the first woman I’ve met that I feel like it could be her.”
“Wow. Never thought I’d hear this from you.”
“I know. What’s happening to me?”
“You’re getting old.”
I don’t take offense, because it’s true.
“Growing up, maybe,” he adds. “I know Brielle did a number on you, but that was a long time ago.”
“It wasn’t just Brielle,” I mutter. “There’ve been a lot of women who I thought were interested in me. Turned out they were interested in hockey players. Parading me around to expensive places. Posing for pictures or taking selfies. Ugh.”
“When you’re young, you don’t even care that they’re interested in you because you play hockey. You’re just happy to get to tap that.”
“That’s how I got involved with Brielle,” I agree ruefully. I rub my chin. “Not doing that again.”
“So you think this girl…what’s her name?”
“Carly. Carly Corrigan.”
“So you think she’s not like that?”
I consider that. “I don’t think she is. She seems pretty genuine.”
“That’s cool, then.”
Quinn rushes in and jumps at me. “Daddy! We slept in sleeping bags last night! And had popcorn. And root beer floats! Do you know what a float is? It’s called a float because the ice cream floats in the root beer. It was vanilla, but that was okay, it was delicious.”
I grin at her. “Sounds great.”
“Did you have fun with Carly last night?”
“We had a good time. We went on a boat.”
“Ohhhh! I want to go on a boat!”
“We can do that sometime. The boat went right by the Statue of Liberty.”
“Let’s go do that now.”
“Not today, pop tart. We have important things to do.”
“Like what?” She frowns suspiciously.
And she’s right. “Laundry! So exciting.”
“Ugh.”
“Go get your things,” I tell her.
She huffs and trudges out of the kitchen.
“She knows about Carly?” Mandy asks in a low voice.
“Yeah, I told her we were going on a date.”
“It seems…early in the relationship for that?”
“I know. I don’t usually talk about my dates with her, because she’ll likely never meet them. But she knows and likes Carly.” I pause. “Also, it feels…different with Carly.”
“He’s catching feelings,” Bergie says to his wife with a smirk.
I roll my eyes, but I don’t deny it, because I definitely have some kind of feelings for her.
“Oooh. This sounds promising.” Mandy’s practically rubbing her hands together. “We need to meet her.”
“Maybe some time, yeah. That’d be great.”
“Wow.” Mandy looks at Bergie.
“I know, right?”
I shake my head.
“How’s your knee?” Mandy asks. “I heard you tried some new procedure.”
“Yeah.” I tell her about it briefly. “I have another appointment with the specialist next week.” I screw up my face. “I don’t feel like things are much different. So I’m kind of pessimistic about it.”
“Oh, darn. That’s too bad.” She gives me a sympathetic look. “Does that mean surgery?”
“Probably.”
“It’ll be fine. The team only uses the best doctors.”
“I know. This guy’s really cutting edge.” I pause. “Ha. Good pun.”
They both laugh.
“What about Quinn?” Mandy shoots a quick glance down the hall. “Don’t you have her all summer?”
“Yeah.” I rub my mouth. “I’ve been thinking about that.” Actually, I know the perfect solution to that problem, but I don’t want to say anything. Maybe it’s a cocoa bananas idea, but it’s been floating around my head. “I’ll definitely need help. I’ll figure it out.”
Quinn bounces into the room with her backpack and I finish my coffee. “Okay. I guess we should get going. Thanks for having Quinn last night. I really appreciate it.”
“Any time,” Mandy says. “She’s a sweetheart.”
I guess that means Quinn didn’t tell anyone to fuck off last night. Whew.
8
CARLY
Over the next few days, Nate and I text back and forth. Then I don’t hear from him for a whole day. Or the next day.
Damn. Is he ghosting me? That’s disappointing. And depressing. I’ll send him one more text; there’s no reason I have to wait for him.
CARLY: Hey, haven’t heard from you for a few days, everything okay?
I wait a few minutes for reply, then give up. I finished my pitch email for the “Bitch Please” website yesterday, so I go over it to polish it before sending it off to distract me from Nate. I feel good about the article about why “politically correct” is the wrong name for that concept.
After I hit “send,” I sit back, then reach for my phone.
NATE: Sure everything’s great, killer, kickass
I purse my lips and reread the message. I’m not sure what to make of this. I don’t know the guy that well. I think I’ll take this as a sign to back off. Again—disappointing. But I don’t need drama in my life; I have enough problems.
CARLY: Sorry to bother you! Take care.
I drop my phone and shake my head. I’ll go for a run in the park. It’s cool and overcast today, so I should take advantage of that. I change into my running gear, pop in my earbuds and find my favorite playlist, then set out toward Central Park West and the nearest entrance to the park. I shouldn’t think about Nate, but it’s hard not to. I mean, I can sleep with a guy and not get all romantically involved. That’s not the problem. Really. It’s just…disappointing.
Okay, okay, you’re disappointed. We got that. Get over it, Carly. There are lots of guys in New York City.
I let the upbeat music fill my head, lift my mood, and fuel my run, my feet pounding the pavement into the park where big trees stretch their branches above me. Every time, I’ve been running a little further. I’m really getting into this. I did a lot of walking in Paris taking the kids out and lost weight while I lived there, and I don’t want to gain it back. I pat my belly.
“Fuck, that’s gorgeous,” I groan. “Look at you…all smooth and pink…taking me…take it all.”
“I want it all.” She sucks in a breath and takes me deeper, her eyes flickering.
I grip her hips. “Slow, baby. Nice and easy…there…”
She blows out a breath, her lips forming a tiny o, then inhales again. Her inner muscles are snug and slippery, squeezing me. “It’s…good. I’m okay. You’re filling me so deep.”
“I like that. Okay?”
“Yeah.”
Then we’re there. All the way. Her hands flat on my chest, she sits on my cock, pulsing around me, and our eyes meet again.
“Ohhhh. Wow.”
“Yeah.” I bite my bottom lip, trying to stop myself from bucking up into her like a madman. Then I gently lift her hips.
She moves with me…up…back down…up…long, smooth, slick glides of flesh, nerve endings prickling. My balls draw up tight.
She moves faster, riding me hard, her tits jiggling, a rosy flush spreading from between them up into her face. She leans down to kiss me and our tongues tangle, teeth clicking, lips smashing together, both of us crazed with the need to fuck and come.
I hold her tits, pinch her nipples, lose myself in her sweet pussy milking me. So close, so goddamn close, but she has to come first.
So I grab her waist and lift her off me. She gasps as I spin her down to her back on the couch and climb over her in a smooth move.
“Whoa.”
I grin as I take my cock in my hand to enter her again. I penetrate deeply, watching her face go lax. She pulls her knees back and I sink even deeper into her.
“Oh God. That’s amazing.”
I study her, gloriously messy and flushed, one of my hands pressing to her lower abdomen, the other finding her clit. I circle it and her breathing hitches, and when I press more firmly on her stomach I feel myself moving inside her and she cries out. “Jesus!”
Her clit is swollen and I slick up more of that sweet nectar and smear it around, and around.
“Just…a little…” She shifts her pelvis and my finger slips left. “There… oh yeah…oh God…oh God!” Her back arches, her abs tighten and the blush on her skin deepens. She contracts around me so tightly I nearly lose it. So close…
I stroke her until her head is tossing, then stretch out over her between her legs and rock my hips, fucking into her in fast hard strokes. Her hands move up and down my ribs, over my shoulders, my neck, my hair. We bite at each other’s lips, my stomach grinding against her, my thighs quaking as tension torques and builds at the base of my spine then explodes outward in ecstatic, hard waves.
I collapse over her, gulping for air, my heart wild. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. When I can move, I shift to the side, drag my eyes open and look at her.
Our eyes meet. The world slows and narrows. “What the hell, Carly.”
Her big eyes gaze back at me, pupils blown. “Yeah. What the hell.”
7
CARLY
“I’ll walk you home.”
I smile at Nate. “Okay, thanks.”
I don’t need to be walked home, but it turns out I like being with him.
I take a last look around his apartment. The whole place is color-coordinated in shades of gray and white and charcoal—the living room with pale gray furniture (one chair sporting a pink stain that appears to be fruit juice), the sleek kitchen with two ovens, his bedroom with a big charcoal upholstered bed, and the bathroom that’s all shiny white and silver and Carrera marble with subtle gray veining. The floors are all a light wood and big pieces of modern art in similar shades hang on white walls.
“Thanks for a fun evening,” he says as we walk. “I had a really good time.”
I smile up at Nate. “I did too. Thank you.”
When we arrive at Gianna’s building, we stop on the sidewalk out front. “I’d like to see you again.” His eyes move over my face.
Yessss. “Me too.”
The corners of his lips lift. “I’ll call you.”
“Okay.”
He bends his head and brushes his lips over mine, then deepens the kiss. I could get lost in it all over again. Never mind the cars passing by or people walking their dogs. All there is, is his mouth, his scent, the heat radiating off his hard body. Damn.
He pulls back with a smile that crinkles his eyes. “Bye.”
“Bye.”
I climb the steps to the door and watch him stride confidently away.
Then I sigh and float into Gianna’s apartment.
She looks up at me and grins. I texted to let her know I wouldn’t be home last night. “Hey.”
“Hey.” I drop my purse on a chair and throw myself onto the couch beside Imani. “I’m so tired.”
“No sleep?” Imani accompanies the question with an exaggerated wink.
“Not much.” I smile.
“Tell me everything,” Gianna says.
“He made me breakfast.”
“Nice.”
“I really like him.”
“And his wang?”
I choke on a laugh. “Oh my God. Let’s just say it’s…satisfying.”
“Excellent.”
“We went on a jazz cruise,” I tell her dreamily. “Then dinner. Then back to his place. His daughter had a sleepover. Did I mention that I really like him?”
“This is so great!”
“Well, let’s not get too excited. I don’t have a job or a place to live. I need to focus on that before I worry about finding a boyfriend.”
“You can do both.”
“Maybe? I need a nap. But I have to go look at a few more apartments this afternoon.”
“Okay. Want me to come with you?”
“Sure! That would be great, if you have time.”
“My Saturday is open. And you can tell me more details about your sleepover.”
“Ha.”
I go shower and change, then head out with Gianna. My steps are dragging, but I don’t regret a moment of last night.
“Tell me more about this man,” Gianna says on the subway. “He’s divorced?”
“Yes. But it sounds amicable. She fell for someone else but at least she didn’t cheat on him.” I shake my head. “That sucks, though. And he really loves his daughter.”
“That’s awesome.”
“He was amazing,” I tell her. “His body is perfect; he’s strong and physical, but also considerate and generous. I’m melting into a puddle of lust all over again just talking about him.” Ten minutes later I realize I haven’t shut up about him. “God, stop me,” I say with a laugh.
She grins. “It’s kind of cute. But I’ll change the subject. I’m thinking of having breast reduction surgery.”
I gape at her. “What?”
She shrugs.
“That was quite a shift. Why are you thinking about doing that?” Well, I don’t really have to ask. Gianna is curvy everywhere, and she does have large breasts.
“The usual reasons. I’ll be more comfortable. My back and neck hurt and I have big dents in my shoulders.”
“Well.”
“Also the skin under my boobs gets irritated.” She sighs.
“It’s expensive, isn’t it?”
“Yes. I have the money saved up. I told myself if I could do that, then I should go for it. But now I’m hesitating.”
“Why are you hesitating?”
“I don’t like pain. Having surgery for something that technically isn’t needed—like, in a life-saving way—seems masochistic.”
“It’s not masochistic. I get that surgery involves pain, but you’re in pain now.”
“True.”
“I guess there are always risks.”
“Yes, and I’ve thought at length about every one of them.”
“I bet. Um, what does Isaac think about it?” Isaac is her boyfriend.
She slants me a look that’s a bit amused and a bit chiding. “They’re not his breasts.”
I scrunch my nose up. “Of course they’re not. It’s totally your decision. I just wondered if he’s supportive.”
“Ah. Well, he is. He loves my boobs, but he’s in agreement that it’s my body.”
“That’s good. Do you have a doctor you’d go to?”
“Yeah. I did a lot of research and I’ve been for a consultation. He has a good rep and seemed to know what he was doing. He explained everything very clearly.”
“Well, I think you’ve done everything you can to make sure it’s as successful as possible. And if it’s something you want, you should go for it. Imagine yourself doing things that are uncomfortable now, like…”
“Running. I’m so jealous every time you go for a run. Even with the best sports bra, it’s uncomfortable for me.”
“There you go. We can run together when you’re ready.”
“You’re the best.”
“Aw, thanks. And don’t worry about after the surgery. The other girls and I will take care of you. Although hopefully I’m not actually living there anymore.”
She laughs.
It’s good having her there with me to look at apartments. She immediately nixes one based on the outside of the building, and gives me her honest opinions of the others. And she keeps me focused on apartments instead of reliving exciting moments from last night.
We pick up dinner on our way home and it eat on the couch, watching TV with Lorelei. I’d give anything to have my own space and be alone for a while. The places we saw were all crap. I’m beginning to think the apartment with the guy in his bike helmet and underwear wasn’t so bad. I repress a sigh and settle into the couch with my laptop do some research for my book. I’m doing this.
To Be a Man.
No—Be a Man.
Hell yeah! Finally I have a title. That just flashed into my head. My research around gender and traditionally defined masculinity is coming together. I need to interview some men about some of my ideas around strength and vulnerability, relationships, body image, sex and sexuality, racial justice, fatherhood and…
Nate has a whole hockey team full of men.
Nah, I barely know him. I can’t interview him.
I’ve already asked Isaac if I can interview him and his friend Andres, who’s Black. I want to talk to diverse men. I talked to Jim Madden about fatherhood before I left Paris and I have my notes from those conversations. I’ll find other men.
Wow. I feel like I’m actually making progress with this idea.
* * *
Nate
* * *
“How was the date last night?”
“Fucking fantastic.” I grin at Bergie. I’m at his place to pick up Quinn, but she’s still outside with Mandy and the kids.
“Got some action, huh.”
“Maybe.”
He laughs. “Coffee?”
“Sure.” I follow him into the kitchen where he has a pot of coffee already brewed. He pours me a cup and we sit at the big island.
“How did you meet this girl?”
“We met in the park. Quinn started talking to her.”
“Ah. Using the munchkin as bait.”
I snort. “As if. Nothing happened that time. Other than my knee gave out and I fell on the ground right in front of her.”
Bergie laughs uproariously. “Seriously?”
“Oh yeah.” I make a face. “I thought I’d never see her again. Then we ran into her again when we were going for ice cream. I was on crutches and she took pity on us and got the ice cream for us.”
“Kids and crutches. Work every time.”
“Jesus.” I shake my head.
“Are you gonna see her again?”
“I hope so.”
“Hmmm. That’s…different for you.”
“I know.” I stare at my coffee for a moment. “I’m tired of just hooking up all the time. I’m…” I pause. “I’m kinda lonely. And horny.”
He laughs again. “I get it.”
“I think I want someone around for more than just one night. And Carly’s the first woman I’ve met that I feel like it could be her.”
“Wow. Never thought I’d hear this from you.”
“I know. What’s happening to me?”
“You’re getting old.”
I don’t take offense, because it’s true.
“Growing up, maybe,” he adds. “I know Brielle did a number on you, but that was a long time ago.”
“It wasn’t just Brielle,” I mutter. “There’ve been a lot of women who I thought were interested in me. Turned out they were interested in hockey players. Parading me around to expensive places. Posing for pictures or taking selfies. Ugh.”
“When you’re young, you don’t even care that they’re interested in you because you play hockey. You’re just happy to get to tap that.”
“That’s how I got involved with Brielle,” I agree ruefully. I rub my chin. “Not doing that again.”
“So you think this girl…what’s her name?”
“Carly. Carly Corrigan.”
“So you think she’s not like that?”
I consider that. “I don’t think she is. She seems pretty genuine.”
“That’s cool, then.”
Quinn rushes in and jumps at me. “Daddy! We slept in sleeping bags last night! And had popcorn. And root beer floats! Do you know what a float is? It’s called a float because the ice cream floats in the root beer. It was vanilla, but that was okay, it was delicious.”
I grin at her. “Sounds great.”
“Did you have fun with Carly last night?”
“We had a good time. We went on a boat.”
“Ohhhh! I want to go on a boat!”
“We can do that sometime. The boat went right by the Statue of Liberty.”
“Let’s go do that now.”
“Not today, pop tart. We have important things to do.”
“Like what?” She frowns suspiciously.
And she’s right. “Laundry! So exciting.”
“Ugh.”
“Go get your things,” I tell her.
She huffs and trudges out of the kitchen.
“She knows about Carly?” Mandy asks in a low voice.
“Yeah, I told her we were going on a date.”
“It seems…early in the relationship for that?”
“I know. I don’t usually talk about my dates with her, because she’ll likely never meet them. But she knows and likes Carly.” I pause. “Also, it feels…different with Carly.”
“He’s catching feelings,” Bergie says to his wife with a smirk.
I roll my eyes, but I don’t deny it, because I definitely have some kind of feelings for her.
“Oooh. This sounds promising.” Mandy’s practically rubbing her hands together. “We need to meet her.”
“Maybe some time, yeah. That’d be great.”
“Wow.” Mandy looks at Bergie.
“I know, right?”
I shake my head.
“How’s your knee?” Mandy asks. “I heard you tried some new procedure.”
“Yeah.” I tell her about it briefly. “I have another appointment with the specialist next week.” I screw up my face. “I don’t feel like things are much different. So I’m kind of pessimistic about it.”
“Oh, darn. That’s too bad.” She gives me a sympathetic look. “Does that mean surgery?”
“Probably.”
“It’ll be fine. The team only uses the best doctors.”
“I know. This guy’s really cutting edge.” I pause. “Ha. Good pun.”
They both laugh.
“What about Quinn?” Mandy shoots a quick glance down the hall. “Don’t you have her all summer?”
“Yeah.” I rub my mouth. “I’ve been thinking about that.” Actually, I know the perfect solution to that problem, but I don’t want to say anything. Maybe it’s a cocoa bananas idea, but it’s been floating around my head. “I’ll definitely need help. I’ll figure it out.”
Quinn bounces into the room with her backpack and I finish my coffee. “Okay. I guess we should get going. Thanks for having Quinn last night. I really appreciate it.”
“Any time,” Mandy says. “She’s a sweetheart.”
I guess that means Quinn didn’t tell anyone to fuck off last night. Whew.
8
CARLY
Over the next few days, Nate and I text back and forth. Then I don’t hear from him for a whole day. Or the next day.
Damn. Is he ghosting me? That’s disappointing. And depressing. I’ll send him one more text; there’s no reason I have to wait for him.
CARLY: Hey, haven’t heard from you for a few days, everything okay?
I wait a few minutes for reply, then give up. I finished my pitch email for the “Bitch Please” website yesterday, so I go over it to polish it before sending it off to distract me from Nate. I feel good about the article about why “politically correct” is the wrong name for that concept.
After I hit “send,” I sit back, then reach for my phone.
NATE: Sure everything’s great, killer, kickass
I purse my lips and reread the message. I’m not sure what to make of this. I don’t know the guy that well. I think I’ll take this as a sign to back off. Again—disappointing. But I don’t need drama in my life; I have enough problems.
CARLY: Sorry to bother you! Take care.
I drop my phone and shake my head. I’ll go for a run in the park. It’s cool and overcast today, so I should take advantage of that. I change into my running gear, pop in my earbuds and find my favorite playlist, then set out toward Central Park West and the nearest entrance to the park. I shouldn’t think about Nate, but it’s hard not to. I mean, I can sleep with a guy and not get all romantically involved. That’s not the problem. Really. It’s just…disappointing.
Okay, okay, you’re disappointed. We got that. Get over it, Carly. There are lots of guys in New York City.
I let the upbeat music fill my head, lift my mood, and fuel my run, my feet pounding the pavement into the park where big trees stretch their branches above me. Every time, I’ve been running a little further. I’m really getting into this. I did a lot of walking in Paris taking the kids out and lost weight while I lived there, and I don’t want to gain it back. I pat my belly.
