“I could toss you over my shoulder, Cassandra.”
“And hurt your back in the process,” I jibe at myself. Humor is a defense mechanism I’ve come to rely on my whole life. It gives me power over the narrative of situations, and with power comes confidence. Both of which seem to be eluding me now. With a heavy sigh, I finally say, “I don’t want to be a convenience fuck.”
My voice cracks at the end, and Max’s face contorts with disbelief and another emotion I can’t quite put my finger on. Please, God, don’t let it be pity. I couldn’t stomach it. Tears well in my eyes as I fight to shake this ridiculous emotional reaction that’s overcoming me.
Why am I losing it right now? He’s just a guy!
A loud banging on the door rips me out of my own personal meltdown. “Cozy, are you in there? It’s Dakota. I just saw your text!”
I nearly sob with relief as my best friend comes through for me at just the right time. I scramble away from Max and shakily wrench open the door, nearly falling into my friend’s embrace.
“We’re leaving,” I rush out, not waiting for an answer as I grab my friend’s hand and drag her behind me.
Dakota hooks her thumb over her shoulder. “Am I drunk, or did Jeff get way hotter?”
It’s midnight, and I find myself pacing my bedroom and staring at Cassandra’s tiny cottage glowing down by the creek like the fucking creep I am. Every once in a while, I see her silhouette move through the pulled blinds, and that’s all it takes for my cock to stir in my jeans.
Goddammit, she’s completely unmanned me.
What the fuck am I doing? Did I really barge into the bar and expect her to come home with me?
Yes, yes, I did.
Especially when I sat in that bar for over an hour watching her tolerate that douchebag. She so clearly wasn’t into him. Her body language was obvious. And he just stared at her like a lost puppy begging for a morsel.
She’s too good for him. It’s why he got so drunk. He couldn’t handle being sober in her presence, and when I saw him make one wrong move, I was done watching.
After he was out of the way, I thought everything would click into place. I thought we’d talk out an arrangement that suited both of our needs, and we would be on our way to bone town. Like another business deal.
Jesus. Bone town? I really have been around Cozy too much.
Then she went and called herself a convenience fuck, and I don’t know what happened after that.
When is fucking ever convenient? It’s not. It’s actually a lot of work. And when you find someone you want to fuck, finding time for that isn’t exactly easy either. Especially when she’s your kid’s nanny and a forbidden fruit that you shouldn’t taste, but you just couldn’t help yourself.
Fuck.
And all that bullshit she spewed about not being the type I normally fuck? She doesn’t know me. And she clearly doesn’t know herself.
Does she not see how beautiful she is? How her quiet confidence in those ridiculous tie-dyed crop tops she’s always wearing is quite possibly the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen? Does she not see how the soft curves of her body make it impossible for me to make the right decision here? How can she not grasp what’s so fucking obvious?
The lights of her house shut off, and it’s like a hardwired switch on my patience.
With a low growl, I slide open the door to my deck and march my ass across the lawn to her tiny house. She’s not going to bed. Not until I put those fucked-up thoughts she has out of her mind for good.
I bang loudly on the door and back up to pace in the grass, my chest heaving with all the thoughts running through my body.
It takes her a moment, but finally, a light flicks on inside, and she opens the door with a dejected look.
I fucking hate that look.
“Max, I’m going to bed,” she groans, pulling her cotton robe tightly across her breasts as she steps outside and leans against the side of the house. “Let’s just forget this horrible evening ever happened.”
“I can’t forget,” I bark, pointing at my head like a lunatic as I continue to pace. “Because I have a daughter. And knowing that she could grow up someday and have fucked-up thoughts about her physical appearance will never be something I’m okay with.”
Cassandra’s brows knit together. “What?”
“What you said about me throwing you over my shoulder? First of all…I could do that. Feel free to challenge me on that. I love a challenge.” I turn on my heel to march the other way. “But second of all, who gives a fuck if I couldn’t? Do you think that makes you any less worthy of someone? It doesn’t. It’s a superficial fucking nothingburger of a comment. It tells nothing about the person you are or the beauty you possess.”