“Actually, she’snotgetting regular sex,” Taylor said. “Daniel is out of town.”
“Yes, he is,” Samiah hissed. “And I am extra pissed off that I’ve become so addicted to his dick that my vibrator doesn’t excite me anymore.”
“Ugh.” London shook her shoulders in an exaggerated shudder. “I never want to get to that point. Men come and go, but your vibrator is your forever friend. You gotta protect that relationship at all cost, girl.”
“My vibrator stopped working,” Taylor said, plucking a grape from the stem. “I think it broke from too much use.”
“I’ll buy you another one. Don’t fight me on this,” London said when she started to argue. “These days that shit is medicinal.”
“I don’t need you to buy me a vibrator because I have money again,” Taylor said. “Umm . . . I said that kinda loud, didn’t I?” She looked around to make sure no one had heard her singing about vibrators.
“I take it your new client came through with the funds?”
“Yes, he did. Thank God. Rent is paid and Nessie’s gas tank is full!”
“I figured as much when I saw the new braids,” Samiah said. “They look nice.”
“That’s what I was asking before the painting lady interrupted us,” London said. “How’s it going with the football guy? This makes a week, right?”
Had it only been a week?
Time had stretched like a rubber band since Jamar Dixon had showed up at her pop-up class last Saturday afternoon.
Taylor figured they would be here all night if she tried to recount everything that had happened to her since the three of them met for dinner last Friday, but she had to at least share this week’s most important highlight, if only for their reactions.
“I’d say it’s going well,” Taylor drawled in an exceedingly blasé tone. “I mean, now that we’re dating and all.”
“You’rewhat?”
Yep, that’s the reaction she’d anticipated. Their simultaneous screeches drew stares from neighboring tables.
“Oh my God, if you could see your faces right now.” Taylor laughed. She held up her hands. “Let me explain.”
She motioned for them to come in closer and dished out an abbreviated version of this past week’s events, starting with her first workout with Jamar and ending with the run-in with Alec Mooney during the Longhorns’ football practice, and their decision to move forward with the story that they’re a new couple.
“Do you really think you can pull off a fake relationship in this day and age with social media?” Samiah whispered.
“We can pull it off if we’re smart about it,” Taylor returned.
“You do realize this sounds like a romance novel, don’t you?” London asked. “I mean, it’s adorable, but it issucha romance novel. In the book, you two would end up getting married.” London lifted one shoulder. “I’m just saying.”
Taylor immediately dismissed London’s theory. There would be no ugly bridesmaid dresses, or sugary wedding cake in her future—at least not with Jamar Dixon. Oranyclient.
She’d learned that hard lesson two years ago, when she’d made the mistake of hooking up with Chad Lewis, an asshole of a client who’d decided that once they slept together it meant he no longer had to pay her to be his trainer. She’d discovered that the only reason his best friend hired her is because Chad had told him that she would probably sleep with him too.
They’dlaughedat her. Taylor could still hear their disgusting cackles as she confronted Chad about this idea of passing her around to his friends. No amount of positive self-talk could expunge those memories, and she hated that the experience still affected her so much.
That incident had been the catalyst behind her move to Austin. She had been so afraid that she would acquire a reputation of being open to sleeping with clients, or that Chad and his friend Brandon would put that lie out there. It had seemed like the smart thing to just get the hell out of North Carolina.
She’d also decided to put dating—and men in general—on the back burner for a while. She’d had a couple of coffee meetups and flirted online a bit, but that fateful date with Craig Walters back in August had been her firstrealdate in over a year.
Maybe she should just give up on men altogether. Her track record wasn’t worth shit.
“That’s not happening,” Taylor assured London. “Thisstory ends with Jamar making it onto an NFL team and telling all of his teammates how he owes his success to his amazing personal trainer.”
“Work that hustle,” Samiah said, holding her hand up for a high five.
“I don’t understand why you can’t do both, but whatever,” London said. She slid off her stool. “I need more wine.”
