I mean, what’s the worst that could happen if we hook up again? It’s not like either of us is trying to be in a relationship anytime soon, that’s for sure. And Crew isn’t a fall-for-the-girl type. Soo, maybe we could…
No, nope, negatory. What am I thinking?
The last time I thought a guy and I could swing casual sex ended with him showing up at the salon. Without an appointment. While I was waxing some dude’s ass.
The poor client was literally head down, ass up, and that psychopath busted in to show me a portrait of my fucking face that he got tattooed on his chest.
Guys get addicted when the girl is down to keep things simple. You suddenly start becoming the one. And no matter how easy breezy Crew comes off, I do not need another portrait of me out in the fucking wild.
I look up at Crew as we take the steps, but my eyes narrow because I just thought to myself—maybe he’s different. Gross.
Talk about famous last words. Why can’t there be a test? A way to know he won’t turn into a walking museum of me.
Ooo, hold up. Have I just solved my own problem with a genius thought?
Yes—if I take my hand away and he tightens trying to keep it, I stick to my guns. But if he lets it go easily, then it’s cock-a-doodle-me time. I feel like this could work…
The real question is: Have I lost my mind to horniness? Maybe… do I care? Not really.
But before I can test my theory, Crew’s lawyer interrupts my plan.
“It’s about time you got here. Fuck, Crew. It’s not a good look to make a judge wait.” Law and Order looks at me, adding, “Excuse my French. Hi, I’m Joshua Maroney, your lawyer for the day.”
I grin. “I don’t speak French, Stabler, so you’re good. Just make sure your fee is covered by the other guy.”
I think I’m funny, and apparently, he does too because the Gabriel Macht look-alike huffs a laugh as he starts up the stairs, glancing over his shoulder to throw out, “Technically, Elliot Stabler’s a detective. I’m a lawyer. But don’t worry, I do pro bono work.” He holds the door open for us to walk inside the building, offering his words to Crew this time. “You sure you don’t want to stay hitched? She’s funny.”
No, thanks blasts from our mouths simultaneously before we look at each other and smile.
“Come on, then, lovebirds. Let’s hope we didn’t piss off the judge.”
crew
I like the way her hand fits in mine.
And I’m tempted to keep holding it, but I can’t because that’s the kind of shit that makes the day go from legendary to restraining order. Thank fuck Josh interrupted because my dick was robbing me of blood flow to my fucking brain.
I was dangerously close to doing something stupid because I know how girls are.
Even with as cool as Eleanor is and as much as she talks a good game about hooking up, even she has a thing…something that’ll make her think we’re a possibility. That there’s untapped potential here, and eventually, four little irrational words will make all the sense in the world to her: I can change him.
It won’t matter that I’ve been completely straightforward with my intentions. I’ll be a guy who broke her heart. No way am I setting myself up for that shit.
I need to let her hand go before I look like boyfriend material. As I’m thinking it, Eleanor slips her hand from mine, so I let it go without hesitation because I’d be a fool to pass up divine intervention.
Still, the irony isn’t lost on me. I chuckle to myself, realizing how crazy it is that I’m worried my wife might fall for me.
As if I beckoned her with my thoughts, she looks up, our smiles meeting.
Begrudgingly, I look away because Josh has stopped in front of a door with a gold nameplate affixed to the front before turning to address us in the vacant hallway.
“Listen up, kids. Although it’s uncommon for the judge to ask us to chambers, I figure he understands the need for privacy because of who Crew is. Honestly, I’ve never had a client stupid enough to do something like this, so I’m not sure what to expect.” Josh smiles apologetically at Eleanor. “Sorry, no offense.”
The way she shrugs makes me grin because Eleanor defines nonchalant.
“None taken. It was super dumb…honestly, it makes me regret saying yes. I’d always hoped my first husband would be smarter.”
Josh laughs as I nudge her. But his eyes linger. The fuck? It’s enough to make me clear my throat and make him grin, and he looks at me, saying, “Sorry,” before he switches back to professional mode.
“Listen, when we walk in there, just smile and nod. And whatever you do, lie about remembering last night… You two were blackout drunk. Understand? I figured an annulment was best, and that defense is our only hope. God willing, in the next ten minutes, it’ll be like last night never happened.”
Eleanor tilts her head toward me, so I lean down for her to whisper in my ear as Josh knocks on the door.
“Nice lawyer. Do you have to pay extra when he encourages you to lie?”
There she goes, pulling another smile out of me. I capture my bottom lip between my teeth and let it drag out slowly before I launch more playful sarcasm in her direction. I can’t help it. This girl brings out the devil in me.
“You’re right. We should tell the truth. Do you want to tell the judge about when your mouth was around my cock while your pussy was getting double-fed? Or should I?”
I don’t miss how her eyes turn into saucers as she chuckles quietly, breathing, “I hate you.”
I wink. “So we are lying, then?”
My hand drops to the small of her back, ushering her through the door and feeling her pinch my side before she follows Josh, and I hold back a laugh.
A portly, half-balding, older man in a black robe sits behind a massive oak desk, smiling tightly as we walk in, and Josh greets him.
“Judge Reynolds. Thank you so much for doing this on such short notice. We understand how important your time is. We’ll be as quick as possible so we’re out of your hair.”
Josh motions to two chairs in front of the desk for Eleanor and me as he continues, placing a thick packet of paperwork on the judge’s desk.
“I’ve prepared the paperwork. It’s very straightforward. Both parties agree to no exchange of any personal assets, and there is no community property. They’re also requesting an annulment. Neither party was capable of agreeing to the marriage due to the level of alcohol in their respective systems. To be frank, Judge, my clients got blackout drunk and then married. Both parties would appreciate a swift no-fault wrap-up.”
Jesus, way to cut to the fucking chase. I look at Josh, shaking my head, but he shrugs.
The judge nods as I stand beside Eleanor’s chair until she sits before taking my own.
Everyone is silent. The only sound is the crinkling of the paperwork as the judge flips through it.
Josh has stepped behind us, standing between our chairs, but I don’t get the sense he’s nervous about anything. I figure it’s a good idea to treat this like the rules on a plane.
If the flight attendant panics, then we’re going down.
I’m midway through my thought when the cell in my hand vibrates, catching my attention. A smile burgeons on my face. Sneaky, sneaky.