Page 74 of Hammered (Dad Bod Contracting 1)
The food comes and I pay for it and set it out while Audra pours wine, and we curl up side by side on her couch, devouring food and wine before we get into the conversation; it’s our way, for as long as I can remember—food and wine, and then talk.
“It was either really bad, or really good,” Audra guesses, after we’re both full.
“Really good,” I answer.
“Too good?”
I nod. “Way too good.”
“So take me through you running away to Florida, and not answering your best friend of almost thirty years.”
“Stop making me feel old. I’m having a hard enough time as it is.”
“Fine. Not even twenty-five years, then.”
I grimace. “That’s not much better.”
Audra whacks me on the arm. “Quit being a crybaby. Age happens, get over it. You know what’s nice about hitting forty? I can get away with not giving a shit in a way I couldn’t in my twenties or thirties.”
“My age is not the issue.”
“Then what is the issue?”
“The sex was mind-blowing,” I say. “Best sex of my life.”
Audra raises her eyebrow. “And…?”
“And when it was over it was just…over. I rolled into him, you know? Out of instinct or something. And he actually did hold me like that for a minute, but then he clearly was trying to figure out how to get me out of his bed and out of his house without pissing me off.”
Audra winces. “Ouch.”
“I tried to go into it without expectations, Audra. I really did. I knew going in that he didn’t—as he put it in so many words—‘do heartbreak,’” I use air quotes around his phrase. “He made it clear that he doesn’t do relationships, or long-term, or any of that. I knew it. And I’m not even looking for it myself. I’m not even two months divorced yet. I went into it with him knowing it wasn’t anything but casual sex.”
“And you still latched on?” she conjectures.
I nod. “I haven’t really processed it yet. I ran.”
“He kicked you out?”
I shake my head. “No. I acted like I didn’t care. Like I had to go. He drove me to my car at Billy Bar, and I left. He tried to explain, but I just—I didn’t want to hear his excuses.”
Audra is quiet for a while. “So, let me get this straight. You and Jesse have mind-blowing, best-ever sex, you go to cuddle, he freezes, and you bolt.”
I shrug. “More or less. He wouldn’t say anything. He always has something to say, Audra, always. But he just looked at me like—like he didn’t know what to do with me now that we’d had sex. Like, this chick is in my bed and I can’t figure out how to get her out of it. He said he never brings anyone to his house—or rather, that he never had, until me. So his usual method of escape was out of the question. Like, usually he just leaves, you know? So I made it easy on him—I acted like it was all totally fine, and told him I had to go.”
“How many times did you go?”
I shrug. “Only once, but it was…a lot.”
Audra is silent again. “What did he actually say to you?”
“I didn’t really give him much of a chance to say anything, actually. He tried to make excuses, you know—” I turn my voice as deep and growly and gruff as possible, mimicking him, “Imogen, listen, it’s just that I, you know…” I trail off and resume in my normal voice. “That kind of thing.”
Audra pours us each another glass of wine, and takes time thinking in silence, drinking her wine and staring hard at me over the rim.
After a long time, she sets her wine on the coffee table and takes my hand in hers. “Imogen, honey, I think you fucked up.”
I’m taken aback. “What?” That’s not what I was expecting her to say.
“I don’t want you to be like me—you’re you, and I’m me. You know what I went through, why I’m like I am about guys and sex. You don’t have to be that way. You went through a shitty situation, and I get that. He was never good enough for you, and I was never shy about saying that. And listen, I’m your best friend, right? So I won’t be shy about saying I fucking told you so. I’ve never said it, but I’ll say it now.”
I rear back, stung. “Are you serious?”
She just lifts her eyebrow. “Oh, I’m not done, babe, so hold your offense until the end.” She stabs my chest. “I told you Nicholas was a douchebag, and that I didn’t trust him. When you slept with him the first time, you said it wasn’t amazing, and I told you to dump his ass then. I told you he’d hurt you. I told you you deserved better. You insisted you knew what you were doing, and I let it go. I stood up for you at your wedding even though you knew I disagreed with you marrying him. I told you I had a car waiting so you could run at the last second, and I wasn’t kidding. I had a cab and a getaway driver ready and waiting. I even had an overnight bag packed for you. But you married him anyway.”
