Danni
“What was I thinking?” Pulling my pillow over my head, I moan.
For the love of God, today is Thanksgiving and yesterday, I kissed Cole Abbot. What’s worse, I liked it. Cross that out. Like doesn’t even begin to describe the toe-curling, panty-melting experience.
To level set, I remind myself of senior year. During homeroom, he would turn and flirt with Sydney Mayweather, who sat behind me. Their dirty talk put the Kama Sutra to shame but our teacher was deaf and never heard a word. Those two delighted in embarrassing me while the rest of the class roared with laughter.
A few weeks later, during a study hall before winter break, Cole swiveled in his seat and stole my pencil. With his thick beard reaching the neck of his ancient Henley, he could’ve passed for twenty-five.
“Dick.” I took a number-two Ticonderoga out of my purse, focused on my calculus, and wished him to disappear, preferably forever.
My tormentor tucked my chin and his dark eyes held me captive. “I need help with my English report. Could you do it for me? I’ll pay you whatever you want.”
He seemed so desperate, I almost said yes but if caught, I’d ruin my chances at college. “If you want, I can tutor you but I can’t write it for you, Cole. I’m sorry.”
“Fucking bitch.” Muttering under his breath, he let me go, and we didn’t talk again until the end of summer.
He wasn’t being fair. He had no inkling of how hard I worked. No one did. They thought school came easy but I studied for hours. If I didn’t get a scholarship, I was never getting out of Mayberry, an entirely unacceptable outcome.
Back in the present, I sigh. For the b’zillionth time, I wonder how the hell I thought having sex with Cole Abbot was a good idea but if I’m truthful with myself, I know.
It was the final party of the summer and I was drinking but not all that much. To be honest, sleeping with him, started out as revenge. After years of him sitting in front of me, taunting me, and making fun of me, I finally had the upper hand. His look said he wanted me and I was going to pretend to go along, then leave him hot and bothered.
Payback was going to be a bitch.
He drove me to the lake and as we sat in the back of his truck bed, we told childhood stories. He lent me his crayons and shared his lunch the day someone stole my knapsack. In middle school, he made sure no one messed with my bike and later, he threatened the mean girls when he learned they were bullying me.
By the time we were done talking, revenge was out and sex was back on the table.
That night had the makings of a perfect storm.
History?
Check.
Alcohol?
Check.
Sexual attraction?
Check.
No lasting consequences?
Check.
However, we cannot hook up again. I have a comfortable life. I come and go as I please. If I see something I want, I buy it without asking for permission.
In many ways, the single life is awesome. I don’t need a chauvinist boyfriend telling me what to do. Glancing at the time, I grab my stuff, and go. I’m supposed to arrive at my sister’s house in an hour but the weather decided differently. Snow that wasn’t expected until afternoon is already coming down hard.
Cole: We need to talk.
Nuh-uh. Not happening.What we need is to stay clear of each other. I delete the text message, not one bit curious how he got my number. I’m sure a certain female member of my family thought she was doing me a favor. God save me from holiday dramas. I’ll be lucky to survive Vermont until Sunday.
While I drive north, my thoughts drift to my dating application. How would I handle someone like Cole? I wish I could ask him. I suppose I could have him meet his date for a drink and instead of a real bar, the couple would sit in their respective homes with their favorite poison. Wearing their headsets, they could talk and let their guard down long enough to get to know one another.
Someone as introverted as Cole will need extra-special help. If he says nothing for more than a minute, a menu should pop up. He either selects a question or a random one will be chosen for him. I can make up conversations based on the entry forms they filled out.
