Page 64 of Seven Year Itch
I place a hand on her back to offer her some comfort. I grew up with only brothers, so I’m not great at the soothing thing... but watching my mom grieve my dad has taught me that sometimes physical touch is all someone needs.
“I’m sorry he did that to you,” I offer, and she looks back at me, forcing a big toothy smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
“It was the kick in the ass I needed to make a change. The same day I found out I wasn’t pregnant, I boxed up a bunch of his shit and set it out on my front lawn. I even peed on a stick, those digital ones that say Pregnant or Not Pregnant and put the negative test result on top of his box. I said I was filing for a divorce and would send him the name of my attorney as soon as I hired one.”
The corner of my mouth lifts into a proud smirk. “Very savage and very you.”
She takes a moment to collect herself, fluffing out her hair and gripping her coat around her abdomen. “So that’s my divorce sob story. Not even a very good one.”
“No, it’s good,” I reply, unable to take my eyes off her. She looks like a fucking goddess in this lighting after just opening herself up like that, revealing her darkest truths and holding her chin up high despite everything.
“How is it good? Were you even listening?”
“I heard every word,” I reply firmly. “And it’s good because you got the fuck out of there. You cut your losses, and that takes guts.”
“I wasted so much time with him, though.” Her chin trembles, and her eyes are glassy as she sniffs. “I’m thirty-three and starting over.”
I have to hold back a laugh. “Yeah, you better call the nursing homes and save a room.”
“Shut up, you know what I mean.”
“What I do know is that you have a lot of life still to live and that spark you had the day I met you is still burning strong. Maybe even stronger now that you’ve dumped the deadweight.”
An errant tear slides down her cheek, so I reach out to wipe it off with the back of my finger. Her breath stutters with the contact, but she doesn’t pull away. She shoots me a wobbly smile that hits me right in my gut. Dakota might be the strongest woman I know—and that’s saying something, because my mom and Trista both rank pretty high up there on my list of badass women.
I step closer to her and grab her by the arms, dipping my head so we’re eye level and she can really focus on what I’m about to say. Milkshake’s extended feet press against her chest and Dakota pets her behind the ear before looking up at me.
“Just please promise me you’re doing this sex club thing foryouand not for him.”
“I am,” she replies a bit too quickly, her head jerking away from me.
“Cuz that fucker doesn’t deserve any more space in your head.”
“I know.” She nods solemnly before peering up at me, her brows knitting together as she searches my face for something. “Do you have history with Randal that I don’t know about? Because every time his name is brought up... your nostrils seem to permanently flare.”
I release my grip on her and step back to resume my hold on my cat. “I don’t have history with Randal. I just hate to see you doing anything for a guy like him.”
“See? A guy like him.” She points at me. “That makes me think you have a beef with him.”
“I don’t give a fuck about your ex-husband, Dakota,” I snap a bit too viscerally.
“Fine,” she snaps back.
“Let’s just stop talking about him.”
“Great idea.”
Silence descends over both of us as we turn and resume our cat walk in a brooding mood that’s much more familiar than the gushing heart-to-heart stuff we were exchanging a moment ago.
We ventured way off topic because the reason she’s here is that she wants me to take her to a sex club.
I hate the idea. I hate everything about it. But I hate the thought of her going back there alone even more. She’s right: they’re not really designed well for single women. But does she really know what she’s asking?
“Going back to your proposition.” I take a long breath, mustering my strength for the next question. “What if I take you to Lexon and we meet a couple who wants to swing with us, because people are going to assume we’re together?”
“That sounds great,” she exclaims, her sour mood quickly replaced with excitement. “We’ve already seen each other naked so it’s not really that big a deal, right?”
“Riiight,” I murmur, my eyes moving to the ground. My mind kicks into overdrive as I picture Dakota naked and fucking some guy right beside me. It’ll be some other man touching her flesh, some other man making her moan. Not me.
