Jenn and I went from room to room while Carlos tagged along in the background. When we got to the master bedroom and the arrangement of the closet, he finally interrupted us saying, “Hey, am I even going to have a say in all of this? I’m living here too.”
Jenn and I looked at each other and broke out in laugher. I was the first to speak. “I’m so sorry. I did get a little carried away in here, but this is such a great house.” I even felt myself blushing in embarrassment. The thing about this couple was, I really liked them. “The next thing you know Carlos, I’ll be moving into your spare bedroom!”
That got a chuckle out of him. We finished up in the house and I promised to call when everything was set for the closing. I decided I wanted to take them to dinner to celebrate.
Home Team was only a short ten minute ride away and I made it there right about the time Alana was pulling in the lot too. We walked in the door together and were immediately seated. A waitress hit us up for our drink order and we also gave her our lunch order...wings of course.
“So what’s bugging you? You don’t look right.”
I sighed. “Long story so I hope you don’t mind.”
“We’ve been friends for how long now? Five years?”
I nodded.
“Why would I mind? You were there for me when Randy cheated on me. So go.”
“Well, you know about Justin, right?”
“You mean Pearce’s brother Justin?”
“Yep.”
“What about him?”
I explained the whole story...well, maybe not the whole story. There were some details that were just too personal to share.
“So you think just because you asked him if you were his girl, you freaked him out or something?”
“Well, yeah. He acted really strange afterward.”
“Maybe you just surprised him. Like he wasn’t expecting it.”
I thought about that for a minute. Maybe that’s what happened. Maybe I caught him off guard and he didn’t know what to say.
“Terri, guys are like that. They sort of like to be in the driver’s seat and for the most part, the emotional thing freaks them out. He probably just said that as an offhanded remark and you commenting about it, took him by surprise.”
The burden was released. Alana may be right. My gut pains eased. My neck tension released.
“Those creases between your eyes look better. I must’ve made sense.”
“Yeah, I think you did,” I smiled.
“Good. Now, I’m going to ask you a question. I take it you two are sleeping together. Are you exclusive?”
Crap storm!
“Okay, I can tell by that expression on your face, that’s something you either don’t know or haven’t discussed. Do it Terri. At the first chance you get. If you’re sleeping with him routinely, you have every right to ask that. Don’t you agree?”
“Yes.” I said it without thinking. Why hadn’t I thought of that before? “Quite honestly, that hadn’t crossed my mind. I guess I’ve been so mesmerized by it all.”
Alana was quiet for a second and then said sedately, “Well it should have and now that it has, do it. If he’s been any kind of a player in the past, you absolutely have a right to do that.”
Now my freakin’ guts felt like not only were they all twisted up like marine knots on cleats tied to a dock, but someone had just doused them with kerosene and flicked a damn match on them.
We finished our lunch, but the best wings in town were barely touched by yours truly. I wrapped them up and took them back to the office. I’d eat them for dinner tonight...if I could swallow them then.
Thank God the afternoon was stacked with appointments and such, or I don’t know what I’d have done. That nagging thing about exclusivity had not only wormed its way through my gut, it had wedged its way into my brain and was destroying any semblance of sanity. If this was week one with Justin, by six months I would be an inpatient in the state mental health hospital up in Columbia, South Carolina. He was messing with my brain, my stomach and my heart. Was it possible to suffer from psycho-cardio-gastritis? I’m positive I had it. My body was inflamed for him. That didn’t even include my sex. I couldn’t go there right now because I was flat out of clean panties and didn’t have time to do laundry.
Dragging myself in the house after I hit the gym that night, I limped into the shower. That hot water never felt so good as it hit my neck and shoulders. I let it beat and massage out the tension for as long as the hot water lasted. Then I washed, shampooed and conditioned. When I was done, I twisted my hair up in towel and dried myself off. After I slathered on my lavender body butter, I threw on a t-shirt and dug around in my dresser drawer for some clean panties. I was out. The only thing I could come up with was an old stretched out pair of boy shorts that were two sizes too big. I bought them years ago as part of a costume and they actually had dry rot in the elastic. I could barely keep them up and when I put them on, they resembled granny panties. Oh well, it was either that or commando. I was way too tired to do laundry. I’d put in a load in the morning, because I didn’t have to meet a client until ten thirty. I could barely drag my butt into bed and was asleep before my head hit the pillow.