Pain pierces my skull much too early as the loud clanging of my phone wakes me.
Apparently, I forgot to turn off the alarm I keep set during the school year. After I arrived home last night, I downed a bottle of wine and whined to Jill that I should’ve kissed him, and then I went to bed alone.
Alone with my thoughts. Alone with images of Brian Fox as he sat across the dinner table from me. Alone with my memories of an unforgettable night.
My relationship with Brian presents an interesting dynamic. While I’ve worked hard to convince myself that I’m not ready to move on, this morning I wake full of regret—and not just because I drank too much wine last night.
When Brian went in for the kiss, I should’ve let him. I was stupid not to. Who knows if I’ll get another chance? I don’t know him well enough to know if he’s persistent, if he’s interested, or if he’s got twenty women waiting in the wings.
I try to fall back asleep after silencing my alarm, but it’s futile. I’m awake with my regrets.
I force myself out of bed and find Jill in the kitchen. She’s chugging coffee at our kitchen table much like I chugged wine last night as she scrolls the news on her tablet.
She looks as bad as I feel, but she has to go to work today. I, however, am officially on summer break. That means days by the pool, catching up on all the romance novels that have released over the past year since I’ve been reading student essays instead, and day drinking.
Responsible Teacher Reese is officially off duty for a few glorious weeks, and right now I’m officially declaring this Reese’s Summer of Sin in Sin City. Wholesome Reese is packed away with my lesson plans and it’s time for me to tap into my inner naughty girl. I know there’s one in there. There has to be—good, wholesome girls don’t do one-night stands. So I’ll dig deep and get her to come out and play in an effort to move forward from that one night.
“Morning,” she mutters.
“Hey,” I mutter back as I head straight for the ibuprofen and a tall glass of water.
“Why are you up so early?”
“I forgot to turn off my alarm.”
“Dork.”
I’d laugh if I wasn’t desperate for coffee. I pour cream into my cup first then drown it with coffee. “Anything exciting on tap today?”
She nods. “I’m reviewing a show that has a preview night tonight before this weekend’s opening.”
“That sounds fun. Your job is pretty cool.”
“Hey, you’re the lucky bitch with summers off.”
I shrug. “I’m smart. I picked the right profession.”
“It’s all about perspective.”
“True. You got us backstage passes to Vail. That’s pretty dope.”
She laughs. “And it led you to Mark Ashton’s bed. Tell me again how that happened?”
I sigh dreamily as I rest my chin on my hand. “I have no idea.”
“What was the ride to the Mandarin like?”
I pause at her question. She’s my best friend in the entire world. I tell her everything. Everything. But for some reason, our ride to his place seems sacred. I’m not ready to share it yet—maybe not ever. So I lie. “We basically made out the entire way.”
I’ve never lied to Jill before—not like this. The occasional white lie, sure—your hair looks cute with all those tiny braids sticking out everywhere like a rat’s nest, or that lip gloss is the perfect shade of yellow on you, or that dumpy white t-shirt looks adorable with those leggings. White lies to make her feel good, but I’ve never intentionally told her something big that wasn’t true.
* * *
Morning turns swiftly into noon as I read half of my first romance novel of the summer. I lean back against my headboard and text Tess.
Me: You have plans Friday?
Tess: Nothing I can’t cancel. Why?
Me: I went out with this guy last night. He’s new to town and has friends and wants to go out Friday.
My phone rings seconds later. “Before you even ask,” I say without a greeting, “I didn’t sleep with him.”
She laughs. “Amateur.”
“You would’ve?”
“I don’t even have to know the details to know I would’ve. It’s practically payment for a nice meal.”
“God, I hope that’s not true.”
“Are his friends hot?”
“I don’t know. All I know is that he is. But hands off, Tess,” I warn.
“Fine, fine,” she says. “But the friends. I need to know more. And I need to know more about where you met this guy.”
“He’s one of the co-presidents of that company I had to beg for fundraiser money.”
“And I got stuck with fucking Beatrice from Dairy Queen?”
“His friends are the two other presidents.”
“Oh, good call. What was the company name again?”
“FDB Tech Corp. He said drinks are on him and money isn’t an object.”
“What is he, seventy-five? Who says that?”
I giggle. “I wonder how he even got all this money that’s not an object.”
“If you’d have slept with him, you’d have found out a lot more.”
“You’re probably right about that.”
“You should’ve at least gone home with him to check out his pad. Where does he live?”
“I have no idea.”
“Amateur,” she repeats. We say our goodbyes, and as soon as we hang up, I text Brian.
Me: I’ve got two friends lined up for Friday.
His reply comes quickly.
Brian: Are they hot?
Me: Well it’s supposed to be ninety-one today, so I’d guess so.
Brian: Good one.
Brian: What are you wearing?
Me: That’s for me to know and you to dream about.
Brian: You got that right. After you left me hanging last night, all I have are my dreams.
Me: Awfully forward for someone who’s just my friend.
Brian: I may just be your friend, but I think you’re potentially more than that to me.
Me: I guess I can’t rule out potential. Shouldn’t you be working instead of having an entire conversation via text with me?
Brian: I’m multi-tasking.
Me: What are you doing?
Brian: Sitting in a boring meeting that someone else is running.
Me: You should probably pay attention.
Brian: Probably. But you’re far more interesting. Besides, I’m the boss.
Part of me wants to tell him I can’t wait to see him again, but I’m worried I’m already building him up bigger and better in my mind than he is...so I just leave it at that.