Guess who I dreamed about last night?
Ridge. I won’t go into detail about what I dreamed, but let’s just say it was good, and I assume this is the only reason I find myself in the office in the morning.
I hand my cell number to Charlotte across the counter with shaking hands. “Have Mr. Lucas”—I can’t believe how incredibly sexy his name sounds rolling off my tongue—“call me if he has any issues with Cash.”
Guess who also fills out a volunteer form? This girl.
I don’t know why I do this—just that I do—and I’m hoping my naughty little boy gets into some trouble today. I didn’t even tell him to behave today before dropping him off at the doors to the school.
How awful is that? It’s like I’m provoking him. Hey, son, be bad so I can talk to your teacher again.
Ugh, I’m such a bad mom. Remember last night when I said I was good mom?
Clearly lying. I also blame this on the dream. It made me realize, or maybe hope, he could do the same for me in real life that he did in the dream. See, I think, though don’t put my weight on this theory, Tori was right last night after three glasses of wine.
I needed to move on. I needed to. . . live and have sex. I mean, I basically had a wet dream last night that woke me up sweating, with a pillow between my legs and my clit throbbing. I needed to get some and Ridge, he’s a good prospect because I doubt he wants anything from me but inside my panties.
I leave the school and meet Tori for lunch. She’s only working part-time at a tasting room downtown until Ada goes to preschool. We have lunch a couple times a week and most of the time I think she’s been drinking on the job again.
When I sit down at the table, her eyes are overly wide. “When were you going to tell me Ridge is their teacher?”
See what I mean? She looks a little flushed, doesn’t she? More than likely it’s something like: “Here, sample this 2013 Private Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon this while I take a little sip when you turn your head.”
What was she saying again? Right. Ridge. Teacher. I guess I didn’t mention it last night when I saw her. She knew he was back, but I failed to mention the teacher part.
I sigh, but do you notice the way my heart jumps in my chest, and I blow the breath out like I’m daydreaming about him fucking me on this very table? Goddamn that dream. “Yes. He’s the boy’s teacher and football coach.”
Tori is laughing. Look at her. She’s entertained by this. Of course she is. She knows the history. She knows Ridge stalked me like I was his prey when we were younger, and I fucking lived for that shit.
“Why are you laughing?”
“Because it’s just your luck these days. Husband leaves and then Ridge Lucas comes rolling back in town. Doesn’t seem strange to you?”
“He didn’t plan it,” I point out. “His dad died.”
“Still, you don’t see the irony in all this?”
She’s lost me. I have no idea what she’s talking about. “No, I guess I don’t.”
“The only reason you eventually started dating Austin was because Ridge left town.” She pauses and repeats, “The only reason.” Tori flips her menu open, her eyes scanning the menu. “And nothing is going to piss Austin off more than for him to know you’re fucking Ridge now.”
I flip the thought around in my head. I want to make Austin mad, don’t I? Maybe don’t answer that because it’s not about revenge, it’s not. The dream flashes in my head, so detailed, so entrancing I shift in my chair, crossing my legs.
Tori notices, dropping her menu. “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?”
“About what?” I ask innocently, trying my best to actually look innocent.
She points at me. “Fucking Ridge.”
I shrug and then instinctively, I lean in, prying for details like I’ve always done with her. Tori lost her V card to Ridge when she was fourteen. Fucking fourteen! I was jealous, I was, but then again that was at the time when I rarely gave Ridge the time of day, so I can’t blame either one of them. “Was he good?”
“No. Not really. He had no fucking clue what he was doing, and neither did I. I literally kept my eyes shut the entire time, and he came within like a minute.”
The two of us laugh as the waiter approaches. And then my thoughts go directly back to Ridge as I assume they’re going to stay until he leaves. I can pinpoint when my logic left me. I really can. It happened sometime after the cocky grin he flashed when he said he’d fuck me behind the bleachers, and the dream. It makes me think revenge might be just what I need.