Page 7 of Falling for Fury

“Throwing myself at a stranger is not going to help me right now.” I release a sigh and look into my glass.

“Look, I know I am probably nose-diving into another spiral, and I appreciate you both trying so hard to help me, but can you trust me to look after myself and know what is best for me?” They both look at me with sincerity and seriousness that gives me the courage to push on.

“I will give dating another go, I promise,” I continue before Rosie has a chance to get too excited and to wipe the look of success off her face. “I am not, however, going to just throw myself at hot strangers who look like Greek gods. I will do it the normal way, okay?”

Casey throws her head into her hands, muffling what I am assuming is a laugh, and I realize Rosie is going to ignore ninety percent of what I just said.

“Soo… Greek god, huh?” Rosie teases. Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Noah

Monday morning comes quicker than I hoped. Using an early gym session to burn off steam and shake this buzzing under my skin I haven’t been able to shake since Saturday. Sunday was unproductive, to say the least. I spent half the day trying to locate Addison on social media, the other half thinking about her to the point of impairment. I went to Target to get Mia that present I promised; I really didn’t think that through. Honestly, how many toy selections does a five-year-old need?

I roamed the shelves for all of five minutes before I gave up and decided to ask for help. I spent the next two minutes attempting small talk, which turned into flirting with the hot as fuck brunette retail assistant. Stephanie? Or maybe Tiffany? God, what was her name again?

This is where the impairment comes in, with perky tits, fuck-me eyes and legs for days, my dick had never been more limp. Not for a lack of trying. I even pictured fucking her against the storage shelves of the nearest supply closet—uniform and all—and still… nothing. Not even a twitch. It didn’t help that Satan’s helper took up all my available brain space. Now I was comparing every woman I would normally be interested in against her.

Stephanie/Tiffany’s hair was a deep brown, long enough to wrap my wrist in and tug, but it didn’t have the golden streaks through it that glowed in the sun like Addison’s did. Her eyes were almond and dark, lacking the feisty green fury that strikes you where you stand. The target employee’s scent assaulted my nostrils; something like a Walmart brand perfume. Addison’s aroma was of sweet strawberries with that addictive musky undertone, like when you find a delicious piece of candy and want another.

Who stole my balls and when can I get them back?

I scold myself for being so incredibly lame and remind myself that I could just as easily pull up a dating app and find any other short blonde—seeing as that is apparently now my type—to end the dry spell. Gave that a whirl Sunday night, then got bored with what was on offer and exited the app, sex-hiatus intact. Of course, I never went to Bozzelli’s with Caleb after the birthday party. My brain was riddled with thoughts of one particular woman with emerald eyes that so thoroughly burnt through me. It felt gross to try to hit up some other poor woman. It felt like I’d just be comparing the whole time.

“90s rom-com-frat-house-meet-cute,” Caleb repeated back to me. He all but cornered me about missing Saturday night and asked what I did instead. We somehow got onto my meeting Addison.

“That’s actually good. I might use that.”

“That’s what I said. She was barely impressed by it, though. Also, I think you need new tricks. The smolder and eye sparkling did not work.” I am still yet to meet his eye line as I stare out my office window. The office I secured for my company is decent, high enough that the view over Midtown East is enjoyable, low enough that the rent doesn’t kill me.

“I don’t think you’re doing it properly.”

“Mmhmm. Sure. I think she had it down, though.”

“What?”

“The eye sparkle. Addison, her eyes were like emeralds. Had a shine to them, like it was reflecting a light, or I guess... sparkling.” I hadn’t realized I was saying this all out loud, in my office, at my workplace.

“Noah Karvelas, I am going to need you to pull your brain out of your ass. This sex-hiatus has gone on too long and now it is a dire situation.” My eyes snapped to him then.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Sparkling emeralds? Since when do you use words like that to describe fucking eyeballs? Just get her number, hit her up, one and done, move on.” He relaxes into the chair opposite my desk, throwing the basketball stress ball in the air.

“I don’t think she is a one and done kind of woman.” No, Addison seemed like she was more the murder and bury the body type. But I’d guess that fury could translate into some serious bedroom-fun.

“I also would probably withhold this conversation from Matt. Can’t imagine he wants to hear about a booty call with his sister-in-law… or about her fucking eyeballs, you simping weirdo.” I scoff at Caleb’s sentence and genuinely question how he pulls when he talks about women this way.

“Moving on, have you closed the EcoX Tech deal yet?”

“Closing this afternoon. Their engineers are coming to give some of the specs they’re now able to release so we can drip feed some of the minor details into some of the later sales campaigns. I can’t wait to get ink on paper with this one.” He rubs his hands together, determination and confidence oozes from him. Caleb is a closer—his words, not mine—and there is a reason he manages my sales team of five—he is the best of the best.

“Perfect. Did they say who their engineer was?”

“They’ve outsourced to AIM Solutions; their lead tech is coming.”

“AIM… isn’t that De Luca’s firm?”

“OH! Matt will be there. They mentioned a Matt; I didn’t even put that together.” Okay, best of the best and sometimes missing a few brain cells. I roll my eyes and laugh him off.

---