Page 13 of Yours Truly

And I’m left to adjust my dick behind her.

FIVE

Is my thing being a masochist?

Ivy

“Seems like a dumb reason to celebrate,” I say, stuffing my socked feet into my boots. Dolly nudges me with her elbow from her spot next to me. We’re sitting on my bed, catching up before dinner.

“One month is a milestone!” she says, watching me feed the laces around the hooks before tugging them tight and tying them in a bowed knot. “You know… it’s my house you’re coming to. You didn’t need to put your boots back on.”

Now that Dolly is married to Hudson, the neighbor’s house is now my sister’s house. The age gap and quick onset relationship would make some families nervous. Not me. I had years to process that the older man next door would definitely be related to me by marriage one day. I knew it from the first time she snuck into his house to taste his leftover coffee.

When my sisters or myself set our sights on something, we achieve. Even if that achievement is making someone ours.

“It’s not that I’m not comfortable,” I explain, pulling my hair out of the braids I’d worn them in today. “It’s just… I don’t know. I don’t feel like going out at all. And if I have my boots on, I’ll come home quicker so I can take them off again.”

Dolly wraps her arm around me, the smell of Hudson’s cologne so overwhelming I think my pores are clogged. “You smell like you just took a bath in Hudson’s cologne.”

A wicked grin sweeps her pink lips. “We just made love.”

I push against her shoulder, sending her careering into the mattress as she giggles. “I don’t want to know about it.” Now that Hudson is our brother-in-law, the specifics have slowed and I’m grateful. Something about watching your sister’s husband and baby daddy cut the Christmas turkey when you know where his other hand has been is… surreal.

She sits up, smoothing her hands through her hair, her blonde waves tangling on that massive ring on her finger.

“Okay, food’s gonna be ready in forty-five minutes. I’m gonna waddle down to the creek and let the guys know. See you in a few?” She rises and moves to the doorway, where she spins on her bare feet to face me, waiting for my confirmation.

Sighing, I smile. “See you in a few.”

As soon as I hear the front door open and close, I flop back on my bed and let loose a wild sigh. One I’ve been holding in since yesterday when that jerk let me know just how unimportant this job is when he no-showed. It’s only the second time since the first day, but still.

Obviously as Dolly’s stalking enabler for the last few years, I knew as soon as Hudson was officially hers, they’d be worse than bunnies in spring. They’re already on their second pregnancy together. But having to hear about all the good, hot, wicked sex she’s having with the man of her dreams? While I had to hunt down Trace to get him to come to work? I’m a little grouchy. And I will be happy to celebrate Dolly taking backshots from Hudson all day long.

I’m just not there yet.

I wish I was. It’s not about being grossed out—I realize Dolly is a woman with needs. Just because she’s my flesh and blood doesn’t mean that urges aren’t there. I’ve been next door to her rubbing one out plenty of times.

It’s their happiness that made me put my boots back on.

I love it for Dolly so much, and I’m stoked that she got what she wants for her life. I am. Truly. I am not an asshole that can’t be happy for someone else, or who feels threatened by other people’s wins. I’m not.

But right now, maybe it’s starting this gig, I don’t know, but whatever it is, I’m not strong enough to pretend it doesn’t affect me.

I long for a partner to leave his scent on my clothes, for his touch to linger on my skin all day, to slip my hand into my pocket only to find a random love note, to find my car with a full tank and a playlist just for me. I’m at the point where I want more than Juni to come home to, I want to plan vacations with more than just my feet in the sand - I want someone to take them with.

Someone to rub against me and ask me how sore I am after he fucked me ruthlessly the night before.

Trace comes into my mind, and I slap my palm over my forehead to knock him free. Only, he of course defies me even in a fantasy; standing casually at the reception desk at Ink Time, one elbow bearing his weight as he leans over, right leg stacked against the other. His hair is down and wavy, the vivid ink on his throat nearly glowing as he tosses his head back in raucous laughter.

Why does he have to be the one to pop in my head directly following the “fucked me ruthlessly” thought? Dolly’s thing is stalking. Is my thing being a masochist? Do I really want to embark on having the hots for a total turd of a human being?

I roll over onto my stomach, pulling my phone from my pocket. Google is open and my fingers are ready.

Do I want to do this?

I looked up Rhett after we met a few times. Learned everything there was to know. Every last detail. And what happened? He cheated on me, but before that, he never expended energy getting to know me. There was no chance in hell that Rhett was ever holed up in his room, googling me because he was so interested.

I’m not doing that anymore.

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