Page 77 of Hammered (Dad Bod Contracting 1)
Jesse: Can we talk? Even on the phone?
Jesse: Imogen? I don’t like how we left things, and I want to say a few things.
Jesse: I don’t like trusting important things to text messages. There’s too much chance of things getting misunderstood. Call me. Or tell me you’re home and I’ll come over.
Jesse: Screw it. It’s been two days and you’re not answering your phone. So if you don’t answer this message, I’m coming over, and I’ll wait until you’re home to say what I have to say.
Jesse: You’re not home. I waited twelve hours and you never showed up. And since you know how I am, you know I didn’t spend those twelve hours idle. So…your welcome.
Jesse: *you’re*, because when your mother is a retired English teacher, you’re required to have proper grammar even via text.
Jesse: Still not saying everything, but I’ll say at least this much, in case you ever read these. Or maybe you’re reading them and ignoring me, I’m not sure. Whatever. Here it is. I told you I had something like a serious relationship once, and that’s true. There’s a lot more to the story, and it’s a very, very hard thing for me to talk about. But it’s made me approach relationships hesitantly, to say the least. I tend to clam up when I’m overwhelmed or feeling emotions I’m not comfortable with, and all I’ll say is that I definitely felt things with you that made me clam up, because of that long and hard to talk about story. I’ve always been bad about that, and I’m sorry. Call me if you want.
The voicemails are just him saying “Call me” in a gruff, terse tone.
I click the phone back to sleep and look at Audra. “I fucked up.”
“Yeah, babe, you did.”
“What do I do?”
“I mean, if it was me, I’d show up where he worked, tell him I was sorry, and then blow him. And maybe bring food with me, because men think with their stomachs as much as their dicks.” Audra shrugs. “But that’s just me.”
I consider.
And actually, she may be on to something.
She sees the speculative look in my eye. “Imogen, I was joking.”
I frown at her. “No, you weren’t.”
“Okay, no, I wasn’t. But that’s not the kind of thing you do.”
“No, but you also told me this is a chance in my life to become someone I’ve never been. Reinvent myself. And god knows after the way Jesse treated me the other night, I probably owe him a little something.”
Audra leans closer to me and, on cue, we both grab our wine. “Is it finally time for details?” she asks, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.
And so, I give her details. Every last little one.
When I’m done, Audra sinks against the couch, dramatically fanning her face. “Whooooo boy! And he has three friends, you say? Each sexier than the last?”
I shrug. “I mean, I personally think Jesse is the sexiest, but something tells me you’d find Franco pretty damn jaw-dropping.”
She quirks an eyebrow. “Franco? Is that first name or last?”
I laugh, frowning. “Actually, I don’t know. It’s the only name I’ve heard for him.”
She eyes me speculatively. “I have an idea, if you’re serious about doing what I said.”
“And what’s your idea?” I ask, wary.
She just grins lasciviously. “Let’s just say it’ll let you make your move, Jesse’s girl, and give me a chance to check out this allegedly jaw-dropping Mr. Franco.”
I cackle when I hear her plan. “You know what? Let’s do it,” I say.
Chapter 15
“This was stupid,” I hiss to Audra, as we approach the Waverley job site. “I’m not doing this.”
Audra grabs my arm and keeps me walking. “It’s very stupid, which is why you’re doing it. You never do anything dumb and reckless. And this is calculated recklessness.” She speaks casually, not whispering. “It’s to a purpose.”
“Remind me what that purpose is, again?”
“Apologize for running from him, not giving him a chance to say anything, and then avoiding him, and not answering his calls or messages. And to then communicate that you’re still into him. And, as a side bonus, you try something new, even if it’s a little scary at first. Because trust me, it is. But it’s exhilarating and fun and a hell of a rush. And he’ll love it. Which means, if he’s half the lover you say he is, he’ll repay you a million times over, because to him, giving you multiple orgasms during sex is what he’s supposed to do, and to him, you don’t owe him anything because he doesn’t keep score. Or if he does, it’s one for him for every three for you. Either way, you win.”
“What if someone sees?”
“It’ll be his buddies, and they won’t care.”
“I’ll care if they see me doing that. I know them. I’ve drunk beer with them.”
“Then don’t get caught.” She grins, tosses her hair, sucks in a deep breath, and tugs her top down a little bit. “Showtime. Do I look okay?”
