Cocky Bastard(81)

My ears felt like they were burning. “Really…”

“Yeah.”

I couldn’t remember what I said to Philomena after that. I didn’t even have a recollection of the ride back to the motel. I would have expected to feel angry or confused, but everything was just numb.

Holding my phone in my hands as I sat on the bed, I wanted to text her, but the more I thought about it, the less it seemed like a good idea. If she really were moving to Boston, she didn’t even bother to tell me that she’d made her decision. Was she there already? Was she even going to call me this weekend like she’d promised? Suddenly, the numbness was wearing off, replaced by pure rage.

Grabbing my wallet, I walked across the way to the bar. I didn’t want to feel the emotions of losing her. I didn’t want to feel anything tonight.

The words rolled off my tongue bitterly. “Hit me up, Carla Babes.”

Carla looked absolutely shocked to see me sitting in my usual spot. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, Aussie.”

“Well, I came to say goodbye. I’m leaving to head home tomorrow, and I’m not coming back.”

She poured my drink faster than ever, sensing I needed it badly. “What happened?”

I took a swig and slammed the glass down on the bar. “It’s over.”

“That’s it? Over? Aubrey stayed with Dick?”

It pleased me that she’d also adopted my nickname for him.

“Yes. I went to her house today, and everything was cleaned out. There was a sign out front advertising the place for rent. The dickhead told the neighbor Aubrey was going to Boston with him.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“End of story.”

“So, she didn’t even have the decency to tell you herself?”

“The decency or the guts, not sure which.”

“How did you leave things with her?”

“I’d gone back to Hermosa Beach for a while. She thinks I’m still there. She was supposed to call me this weekend. I decided to come back anyway and check on things. Now, I know what she was planning to tell me when she called.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Not your fault.”

“I was really hoping things would work out for you. You deserved to have a happy ending.”

“Can we not talk about this anymore? About her?” I swallowed as if it were painful.

“Okay. Whatever you want.”

Carla quietly placed drink after drink in front of me. She knew that I was in no mood to talk, so she let me be. At one point, she cut me off, refusing to serve me anymore. I lay my head on the counter as she wiped down the tables. The bar was getting ready to close. I had no concept of what time it even was. The sound of the television and a few patrons talking was muffled.

She tapped me on the shoulder. “Come on, big guy. I’ll drive you across the street.”

I got into Carla’s red Prius and rested my head back on the seat with my eyes closed. I was still a little drunk but starting to sober up. I would have probably had to drink myself to death to get to the level of inebriation necessary to forget this day. So, in a sense, I was pissed at Carla for refusing to serve me more alcohol but grateful to her for looking out for me.

She walked me to my room and quietly followed me inside. Lying back on my bed, I crossed my arms and closed my eyes. When I opened them, Carla had disappeared. The water was running, and I realized she was in the bathroom.

I closed my eyes again. This time, when I opened them, Carla was standing by my bed. She’d taken down her hair, which was usually up in a retro style. She’d washed off the heavy red lipstick she wore. Most notable was the fact that she’d taken off all of her clothes except for her red lace bra and matching underwear. Her breasts were spilling out of the material, and the panties barely covered her curvy bottom.

My voice sounded sleepy. “What are you doing?”

“Remember what we talked about? The offer still stands. Let me make you forget everything. No strings, Chance. Just you and me and a really good fuck.”

My dick twitched, my body unable to control the natural reaction to that proposition.

“Carla Babes, you don’t have to.”

“I want to. God, Chance, I want to so badly. You have no idea what you do to me.”

Shit.

Before I could form words, she began to straddle me over my jeans, grinding against my half-stiff cock. “I think you’re ready for me,” she muttered over my lips.

She kissed me, and I reluctantly returned it, unsure of whether to accept her offer or push her off of me.

“Do you have a condom?” she whispered.

“No.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to worry. I’m on the pill, and I’m clean.”