Page 26 of One Hotlanta Night
Her eyes scrunch up and her nose wrinkles and for a moment I’m worried she might be about to cry… until she gives me a big sniff.
“You stink,” she declares solemnly. “You need bath!”
I can’t help but laugh and agree with her as I turn her little shoulders around and point to the door. “You’re right, princess,” I say, adopting the nickname that Derrick gave her. As I raise my arms, I can tell that I definitely do stink, like stale sweat and tequila. But there’s an underlying note too, a faint citrus scent that’s dried on my chest. I reach down to pick up the halter top from last night and give a quick whiff—not too much, because club smells mingled together will only make the hangover worse. But yeah, right at the top of the shirt are the lingering notes of Michael’s cologne. And I sigh.
I press the shirt to my nose just enough to catch one more hint ofhimas my cheeks heat thinking of how close our bodies were pressed together. How much I resented the clothes that separated our skin. How our sweat combined and I wanted nothing more than to climb him like a koala and stay in his arms forever.
The memory of our sensual dancing makes me press my thighs together as I recall how he grasped my hips so possessively as he whispered, “I’m really likingyou.” How he looked me straight in the eyes as he told me to give him my number. He wasn’t asking. The same way he told me he’d be seeing me soon. Like it wasn’t up for debate. And I shiver thinking ofthat kiss. The one that about made me lose my mind. I can still feel the way his lips claimed mine.
“Why you smell stinky clothes?” Raelynn inquires, raising her eyebrows and looking at me like I have two heads. “That gross.” She shakes her head at me. “Dirty.” She points to my overflowing laundry basket. For a four-year-old, she sure can be bossy.
“You’re right, sweetie.” I shake my head. “Tell your mommy I’ll be down soon.”
She nods and heads toward the door. “Mommy! Aunt Viv smell stinky stuff!” she announces as she goes downstairs. I huffout a laugh. She’s not wrong. And I did not expect that visceral reaction to the reminder of how good Michael had smelled. Hell, I’d probably sleep in his gym T-shirt if given the chance.
After a badly needed shower, I join the two at the kitchen table. Raelynn is watchingSesame Street,and Claire already has a cup of coffee waiting for me. “Girl, you are an absolute lifesaver.” I groan as I take my first sip. “I don’t know how you make this so good, but I will name my firstborn after you.”
Claire winks at me over her own mug. “It’s got my patented morning-after blend in it. Figured you could use it since you apparently shut the club down last night,” she teases.
“I did not!” I pause, glaring at her. But then I remember that she made the special cinnamon and honey concoction just for me and grin. “Okay, maybe I did.”
“So who was he?” she asks innocently, her eyes anything but. Damn her.
“Wh–what?” I splutter, almost spitting out the precious drink.
“Oh, come on, Viv. I know you better than that.” She gives me an exaggerated side eye, and I stick my tongue out at her. Very mature, I know. Sue me. “Seriously, you’re way too chipper to not bite Raelynn’s head off when I let her barge into your room this morning.”
“Youdid that? I take back everything nice I ever said about you.”
“Girl, please, it was time for you to wake up anyway. You’re closing tonight, remember?”
“Ugh, don’t remind me,” I groan as I slump back in my chair. “Whyyy did I ever agree to cover for Sheila?”
“Because you’re a good person who cares as much about my restaurant as I do?”
“Nah, that can’t be it.” I peel one eye open to look at her. “And I’m not that good.” She laughs and throws a sugar cube at me.She’s the only person I know who still keeps sugar cubes in her kitchen. Says tea just isn’t the same with anything else. And her sweet tea at the restaurant is known for miles, so I guess she knows what she’s talking about.
The fact that we can use the cubes as a quick and fun pick-me-up for Raelynn’s low blood sugars doesn’t hurt either.
“All right, chica.” Time for full transparency if she’s using my pet name. “Spill, before I waste this entire sugar bowl on you.”
I take a sip of my coffee, pulling my leg up underneath me. How do I even begin to describe someone who affected me the way Michael did last night?
Especially when I’m not supposed to be looking for anything?
“Okay, don’t judge…”
“I would never,” she says softly. Her eyes are so warm on mine, and I reflect once again how lucky I am to have a best friend like her. She’s been through so much shit with me. Trent, the days I was in tears from fibro, dealing with my mother…
Moving in was intended to help her out, but she’s done more for me than I can ever repay.
The day I met Claire was one of the lowest points of my life. I haven’t been to church in years, but it must’ve been divine providence that led me into her restaurant that day, barely holding back the tears as I asked for a table for one. Instead of seating me, she placed me at the bar and just listened. Listened while I poured my guts out over how my life wasn’t turning out like anything I’d planned or hoped.
My mom and I were so at odds with each other that I was considering moving to another state just to get out from under her roof. I love my mom. I really do, but too many arguments and rebellion and close quarters had come to a head. I needed to get away from the criticisms and long sighs.
Yes, her worrying about how I would survive on my own with fibromyalgia were probably justified, but that only served tomotivate me even more. To prove that I could handle it. I just needed space to breathe, to think, and figure out where to go from there.
That gap year—the one where I was going to figure out what to do with my life—had stretched into two. After a tumultuous year of unrelenting pain that left me hobbling like a hunchback and barely able to sleep, I’d scraped by, working odd jobs. Once I got an official diagnosis and a mostly successful pain management plan, I’d finally gotten to a place where I could handle full-time hours, and I was ready to make some changes in my life. I just didn’t know what that was going to look like yet. My high school friends had either gone on to college or the military, except for the ones who married their school sweethearts and started spitting out babies. Neither appealed to me.
