Nope. Don’t even go there.
It didn’t matter if I was just another notch in his bedpost. I’d had a good time, that was all that mattered. It was all that I was looking for. I’d stepped outside of my own comfort zone to enjoy a single night of wild fun and that was exactly what I got. I’d never see Butch again.
I left the apartment, using a rideshare app on my phone to order a car to pick me up. This was my first walk of shame, and I was glad that I didn’t run into anybody as I walked out into the early morning sunshine. I was keenly aware of the fact that I wasn’t wearing panties and continuously tugged at the hem of the dress.
When I got into the Uber, the driver shot me a knowing look that caused my cheeks to heat, but she didn’t say anything. I must have looked like a total mess. I had been so eager to get out of there that I hadn’t even looked in the mirror.
Self-consciously, I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to tame the rat’s nest before arriving at home.
“This your place?” the driver asked, looking up at the stately two-story home where I’d lived my entire life. I could hear the curiosity in her voice.
“Yep,” I replied unenthusiastically.
Looks could be deceiving. A home like this might be a dream for the woman in the driver’s seat, but it was just a house made of four walls. There was a coldness to it that I’d come to notice in recent years. It had always been there, but I’d had a childlike naivety that kept me from seeing it. I hadn’t realized that my family was different from others until I reached adulthood. By then I had already made promises and commitments to my family that I couldn’t walk away from, whether I liked it or not.
Getting out of the car, I hurried up the brick steps. It wouldn’t do to have the neighbors seeing me. My mother would have a fit if one of them mentioned it. She didn’t need more ammunition to express her unhappiness. I loved the woman, but she could be so temperamental.
No sooner had I walked through the door than I realized that her disapproval was unavoidable anyway.
I had plans to go straight up the stairs in the foyer, disappearing into my room and changing my clothes. But I had no such luck as my mom rounded the corner from the sitting room and caught sight of me.
“What in the world are you wearing?”
Her scandalized voice wiped out the high I’d been clinging to from the night before and replaced it with an inkling of shame. She always had a way of bringing that feeling out of me when I did something she didn’t approve of.
I stopped walking, knowing that I couldn’t avoid the conversation. She’d just follow me up the stairs. She was nothing if not determined.
“It’s a dress, Mom,” I said tiredly.
“Barely,” she said, shaking her head. “Where did you go last night dressed like that? I assume that girl you’re always running around with is to blame.”
“That girlis my best friend and her name is Lacey.”
Of course Mom knew her name. She was just being disdainful.
“I don’t know why you insist on spending time with her. She’s a terrible influence.”
Too bad I’m an adult and I make those decisions for myself.
“Maybe I like that about her,” I said, unable to hold back my smile. “Did you ever think that I might benefit from a littlebad influence?”
Mom furrowed her brow and shook her head.
“I have no idea how to respond to that,” she said. Lifting a perfectly manicured hand, she made a dismissive gesture. “Just go get changed, please. We need to go shopping.”
“Shopping?”
“For the dinner party,” she said impatiently. “Youdidsay you would help and that we could go dress shopping today.”
“Yes, I did,” I agreed. I was tired from last night’s activities, but I couldn’t tell her that without inviting a lot of questions that I didn’t want to answer. I needed to take a shower. “I’ll go get ready and be back down in a few minutes.”
Glad to get out of this conversation, I turned and marched up the stairs. It was surreal, coming home and being thrust back into my everyday life after last night. I was back inside the bubble I lived in, but I had a feeling I wouldn’t be able to forget Butch easily.
* * *
“This dress would look perfect on you,” Mom said, holding up a long-sleeved, high-collared dress that would fall to my knees. The wool fabric looked itchy and the peach color would make me look washed out.
“I don’t think so. Besides, it’s summer. I’ll have a heat stroke in that.”
