Texting Box Set: The Complete Series, page 62
Ready for whatever life throws her way.
And she needs that right now.
Because tonight? Tonight is going to be the last time I see Monty for a long damn time.
I just don’t know how to tell her that.
“I did something really fucking stupid.”
“Color me surprised,” my best friend says with a lopsided grin.
When I don’t laugh or even smile at his remark, he sobers up, sitting straighter in the chair and turning all his focus on me.
It’s Monday morning and I’m sitting on the other side of Zach’s desk at Embody Positivity.
Considering we spent the better part of the last several years running his business from his basement, it’s weird to see him behind a desk again.
But here we are.
And here I am asking for his help…again.
“What happened?”
“Monty is Xavie’s teacher.”
Zach’s right bushy brow rises, but just the right one. “How long have you known?”
“Long enough—almost a week.”
“And you’re just now telling me why?”
“Because it’s fucking complicated, you ass. The fewer people who know about it, the better.”
“But I’m your best friend.”
“Play that butthurt bestie card later. Right now I need help.”
He sits back, pretending to slide something off his desk and tuck it away in a drawer. “Butthurt bestie card has been stowed for later. Tell me what’s up.”
I roll my eyes at his joke and sigh. “We went out Sunday night. I took her to TacoWay and—”
“She totally orgasmed from those amazing tacos, didn’t she?”
“Yes, but stop interrupting. Anyway,” I continue, “I’m pretty sure I told her I loved her, we danced, and then I’m pretty sure I told her again.”
When Zach doesn’t say anything like I expect him to, I keep going.
“Then we kinda sorta…um, fooled around in a photo booth.”
Both brows lift this time and a smile curves across his lips, but he still doesn’t say anything.
“Then I’m pretty sure she told me she loved me, which is still kind of blowing my mind, but I digress.” I scrub a hand through my already messy hair. “We ran into her coworker when we came out of the booth, both of us looking guilty as fuck.”
Zach steeples his hands together, resting his chin on the tips of his fingers. “So? It’s not like he knows who you are.”
“Remember when I said Monty is Xavie’s teacher?” Zach nods. “Well, that means Monty works at the same school he went to last year.”
“And?”
“And I know her coworker. Actually, in a way, you do too.”
A crinkle forms between his brows. “You’re gonna have to start elaborating.”
“Remember how I was having issues with Xavie’s teacher last year? The one who kept sending him to the principal’s office for really stupid things?”
“Mr… Oh, shit—what was his name? Mr. Dipshit? Douchebag? Dickweed?”
“Donahue, Brandon Donahue, and that’s who we ran into Sunday night.”
Zach’s eyes light up at this revelation. “Oh fuck. He knows you. He really knows you, and he absolutely hates you.”
“I know.”
“You’re fucked.”
“I know,” I say again. “And it’s not even in the fun way.”
“I mean, from what I hear happened in that photo booth, it was.”
He barely dodges the stapler I throw at him.
“Hey! That was heavy, you ass!”
“Deserved too, you dick.”
“Fair enough.” He scoots around in his chair, too lazy to even get up, and grabs the stapler, putting it back in place. “What are you going to do?”
“Well…” I draw out.
“Okay, what stupid-as-fuck thing did you already do?”
“I haven’t…yet, but I’m going to. I have to. I can’t see her again, not after last night, after almost getting caught—not when that douchebag knows about us.”
“You can always keep it on the DL.”
“That was our plan, but now that means not even going out for fucking tacos.” I let out a frustrated groan. “It means being holed up in our apartments for fear someone will see us together and take this to the extreme.”
“You’re not doing anything wrong, you know,” he tries to reason. “It’s not illegal, and it’s not even entirely unethical, just…frowned upon.”
“Frowned upon is enough for Monty to freak out. Frowned upon is also enough to cause problems, especially for a first-year teacher.”
He winces. “I didn’t realize this was her first year.”
“Yeah, and I don’t want to be the reason things get fucked up for her, or the reason she gets a bad rap, or for this to cause any drama. I’m not worth it.”
“I think Monty would say differently, but that’s your call, Robbie.” He taps his fingers to his chin a few times before huffing out a loud breath. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’ll be wrong whatever you decide to do. This is a really tough situation, and I won’t judge you if you break up with the best broad that’s ever happened to you or if you continue to bang your kid’s teacher. Up to you, man.”
“You’re so eloquent.”
He spins himself around in a circle, grinning like an idiot. “I’ve been told that a time or two.”
Zach continues to spin as I mull his words over.
Monty is worth the fight—there’s no denying that—but when that fight isn’t just something that’s tough to handle but something that could affect her career? It becomes a battle I don’t know if we should fight.
“What are you gonna do?” he asks, still spinning.
“I don’t know.”
“Well, I don’t either. You gotta figure that shit out on your own.”
I push up to stand and stare down at him. He is still spinning. “I hope you puke.”
“Think I could get my boss to give me the day off if I do?”
I shake my head at him and head for the door as I call out, “You’re exhausting.”
“You love it!”
24
Robbie
Monty: Hey. I haven’t heard from you today, which is kind of unusual because you’re always super annoying.
Monty: I was kidding. I like it when you’re super annoying.
Monty: Robbie?
Monty: Huh. Guess you’re busy or sleeping. I’ll leave you be. Just text me when you get the chance. *kisses*
Monty: Good morning. 😊
Monty: Okay, it’s now after lunch on Tuesday, and I’m starting to get worried. I haven’t heard from you since Sunday night. Are you okay? Please, just answer me.
Monty: Maybe your phone isn’t getting texts? I’ll try calling.
Monty: I tried calling. Nothing. So that means you’re ignoring me. Noted.
Monty: Your son came in today wearing an “X Gon’ Give It to Ya” t-shirt. That is SO not appropriate. Funny, but not appropriate. He was sent to the principal’s office.
Monty: Obviously, it wasn’t by me. It was by one of the administrative assistants.
Monty: Just thought you should know though.
Monty: Okay, fine, it was an obvious attempt to get you to talk to me, but I guess that’s not going to work seeing as you’re still silent. It’s been almost a week, Robbie. Please, just tell me what I did wrong.
Monty: More silence. I’m just going to assume your phone is broken. That’s going to help me sleep at night.
Monty: I went by your place tonight. At first I was really mad because you wouldn’t answer the door. Then your neighbor kindly informed me you were out with a “very sexy brunette”.
Monty: So…yeah. Enjoy your night out. I’ll leave you be now.
Monty: DOWNLOAD ATTACHMENT
Monty: CALL ME ASAP
Me: Oh fuck.
Me: Listen, I’m in the middle of an important meeting. Can I call you afterward?
Monty: You had better.
Monty: There is A LOT of explaining you need to do.
Me: I know. I’m sorry.
Monty: Don’t you dare apologize to me right now, and definitely not via text.
Me: You’re right.
Me: Give me thirty minutes.
Monty: You have ten.
Me: I’ll make it work.
25
Monty
Nine minutes later, my phone lights up in my hand.
I debate not answering it.
Anger is flowing through my veins. It used to all be directed at Robbie. Now it’s directed at Brandon too.
That traitorous, inconsiderate, moronic…jerk!
“Explain.”
“Well, that’s one hell of a greeting, Monts.”
“Nope. No. You don’t get to ‘Monts’ me, especially when it makes my insides do these stupid flips. You need to explain yourself—now, Robbie.”
“I really don’t want to do this over the phone.” He gives a dry laugh. “Actually, I don’t want to do this at all. I never wanted to do this, which is why I’ve sort of—”
“Ignored me? Abandoned me?”
“It sounds really bad when you say it like that.”
I scoff at his words. “It is really bad, Robbie. You took me back to your house, made love to me, and then sent me on my merry way only to ignore me for nearly a week.”
“Monty…there was so much more to it than that. I didn’t want to have to do this, so I hid from it like a little bitch. I should have pulled my goddamn big boy pants up and hit this head on, but I couldn’t. We were so happy, and I wanted to hold on to that for a while longer.”
“You think dodging my texts and just disappearing from my life is holding on to happiness?”
“That sounds really bad too.” He laughs dryly. “I’m an idiot and clearly really fucking bad at relationships.”
“I think that is putting things mildly.”
He laughs again, and I hear how disappointed he is in himself.
I’m disappointed in him too, yet I can understand why he did what he did. I didn’t face my problems in Montana; I ran. So, get it.
Which makes me feel like an idiot too.
“Was it Brandon?” I ask him.
“That…yeah.” He clears his throat. “Yes. He was Xavie’s teacher last year. I know him. He recognized me Sunday night, and I knew he wouldn’t keep his mouth shut. I thought if we separated and took time apart, he wouldn’t have any ammo against us.”
“But the pictures.”
“The pictures.”
When Brandon walked into my office this morning and slid a white, bookmark-sized slip of paper my way, I was confused.
“Thought you might want these, and just a note: what you’re doing with him? It needs to end. This kind of…indiscretion is not tolerated at our school. End it, or you’ll be answering to Principal Gladden Monday afternoon.”
That was all he said, staring down at me victoriously as my hands shook, flipping the paper over and gasping.
There were four pictures of me and Robbie in the photo booth.
My top was clearly off, his face was buried in my chest, and my head was thrown back mid-orgasm.
I glanced back up at the traitor, and his grin grew. Then he slipped from my classroom like he hadn’t just wrecked my entire world.
“How did this happen, Robbie? How do those even exist?”
“I…fuck. Remember when I put money in? I didn’t even think about it. The booth must have been on a timer and it went off.”
“The fireworks,” I whisper into the phone.
Those weren’t fireworks I saw when I came. It was the camera flash.
I am an idiot.
“What?”
“I…I…” Even though he can’t see me, humiliation washes over me. “Nothing, it’s nothing.”
“I didn’t even think about it once you climbed onto my lap.”
“I didn’t either.”
“The photos must have printed out and that fucking douchenozzle grabbed them.” He lets out a string of curse words. “God, Monty, I want to rip his goddamn head off. Just knowing he’s seen you like that…it has my fucking blood boiling.”
“Trust me, it doesn’t make me happy either. I just…I can’t believe he’d do that. I can’t believe he’d be so…mean.”
“I think mean is going easy on him.”
“Probably.”
I hear him moving around and want to ask him what he’s doing, but I almost feel as if I don’t have that right anymore, not when I haven’t spoken to him in nearly a week.
Him ignoring me hurt. It hurt bad, especially since I practically confessed that I was in love with him on Sunday.
“I’m sorry this happened, Monty.”
“Me too. It stinks.”
“No,” he says, and I hear it in his voice before he even speaks the words.
This is it.
This is goodbye.
“I’m sorry we let this keep going on. We shouldn’t have. We should have kept it light and fluffy and parted ways when we found out you’re Xavie’s teacher. What we’re doing…it’s not right. You can’t put your career on the line for good sex, Monty. I won’t let you.”
I’ve been fighting back tears this entire phone call, and I’m not surprised when they finally begin to fall at his words.
He’s saying goodbye, and it hurts just as bad as I thought it would.
The worst part? He’s wrong. He is so wrong.
What we have isn’t just good sex. It’s more—so much more—and I thought he knew that.
Maybe I was wrong though.
Maybe Robbie isn’t the guy I thought he was, isn’t my new adventure.
Maybe he’s just a stepping stone.
If that’s the case, why does this hurt so much?
I do everything I can to muffle my cries, but I think he hears them anyway.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
Gathering myself as best I can, I wipe away the tears making their way down my face. “Y-Yes. I’m good. I’m fine.”
“Good. That’s good. This is for the best,” he says, trying to convince us both.
Another unsteady sigh from him.
Another strangled cry from me.
“Goodbye, Monty.”
There’s a click on the other end of the call, and I break.
26
Robbie
Missing someone you aren’t sure you ever really had is strange.
At first, you can’t eat. Nothing is appealing, not even the slice of gooey, greasy pizza you know you shouldn’t be eating anyway.
Then, sleep slides through your fingers like a slippery bar of soap.
And finally, the cold sets in.
There’s a void—a hole—and you’re not so sure it will ever be filled.
It’s only been a little over thirty-six hours since I said goodbye to Monty, but it feels like a fucking lifetime. It’s as if seconds and minutes never existed and all that’s there are decades and centuries.
I miss her laugh, her smile, her silky red locks…her ridiculous sense of humor and her inability to say even the tamest of dirty words, the way she looks when she comes, and that blush that steals up her cheeks.
I miss her.
It’s as simple as that.
I steer my car into Holly’s driveway and throw it into park.
I’m here to pick up Xavie and I need to get my shit together. I can’t wallow in front of him, especially when I can’t explain the why to him.
Time to pull up my fucking big boy pants and move on.
Move on.
Like it’s so simple.
I drag my hand over my face, scratching at the beard I’ve managed to grow in the last few days, another sign of my wallowing.
Shit. I should have shaved.
The front door opens and out runs my son, a big grin on his little face, his arms stretched wide.
“Dad! You’re here!”
Showtime.
I climb from the car and he crashes into me. “What’s up, dude? You miss me?”
“A little bit. Can we go see Thumbelina?”
“Ah, I see what this is: you only want to hang with your old man because he has a bunny.”
“And crabs. Don’t forget you have crabs too.”
I try to hold back my laugh. “Yes. How could I forget about those? Did you bring yours?”
“Mom has ’em.” He sidesteps me and pops open the door to the back seat. “I’ll be in here. Hurry up. Thumbelina’s missing her brother.”
I shake my head at the impatient little shit and head toward the open front door, where his mom stands.
It doesn’t escape me how different she and Monty are from one another. From their looks to their personalities, they’re complete opposites.
Monty is reserved, and that word doesn’t exist in Holly’s world.
Where Monty is all legs, Holly barely stands five-four.
I’m fairly certain thanks to Holly’s naturally bronzed skin, courtesy of her Latina heritage, Monty would disappear standing next to her. That’s how different their complexions are.
Xavie must have gotten most of her genes, because save for his eyes, that kid looks nothing like me.
“Hey, Hol,” I say as I walk up onto the porch. “Heard you have crabs too. What a shame.”
She laughs and holds the portable tank out to me. “Here. You can have them back. Creepy little things. I can’t believe you let him get those.”
“Hey, he’s your kid. He got his weird taste in animals from you.”
“For the billionth time, liking hairless cats does not make me weird.”
“Save the speech for someone else,” I tease. “How you been?”
