Something So Right(6)

I whip my head around so fast I may have given myself whiplash. “What the fuck is your problem?” I stare at him.

Meghan’s mouth hangs open. “Okay, how many cups of coffee have you had?” She turns her head to look at Cooper. “She is usually the social butterfly. She is probably having a bad day, excuse her.” She gets up, ushering me away from him before I say something else, shoving me into the booth.

“What the fuck was that?” she whispers.

I shake my head, proceeding to tell her about my morning run-in with jerk face. Rolling my eyes, I know it’s childish, but I don’t care.

She smiles at me like she’s a cat that caught a canary. “You like him.”

My mouth quickly shuts. “What did you just say to me?” My brows draw together in shock that she would jump to that conclusion. I’ve just basically told him to go fuck himself. Surely she knows the difference between flirting and hatred!

“You like him. You haven’t been that into someone since douchebag fucked you over.”

I stare at her, thinking I’m in some parallel universe. I’m watching the world go crazy. “Are you out of your mind? That wasn’t like, it was loathing. It was ‘I would rather cut my arm off and eat it before sharing a meal with him’.” Anger rises within me. I was supposed to be here with her drinking and making fun of him. Not discussing my lust for him! Wait a minute, I don’t lust for him. Jesus, I need to get laid.





Chapter Three





I pull up in my driveway just in time for Allison to get home. I look up at my beautiful cottage I fell in love with. It was the first thing that was ever just mine. It was my reward, my sanity. It’s nothing extravagant, but it’s mine. Four little steps lead up to my wraparound porch where a hammock hangs. Around the corner leads into the back where I spend many nights falling into the love stories on my Kindle. I also have two white wooden Klondike chairs that I put for the kids to hang out in. I have beautiful tulip beds that are placed just under the railing. I know they don’t last long, but they are my favorite flowers, and I have always loved them.

When I look up, I see one of my reasons for living, my princess, running up the driveway with her lopsided pigtails.

“Moooommmmyyy! Moooooommmmmmyyy, I missed you, and Matthew didn’t make me pancakes. He said I wasn’t awolled to make my own, but then I told him he’s not the boss of me. Is he the boss of me, Mommy?” she asks all in one breath, cocking her head sideways.

I stick my nose in her neck and inhale my happiness. “Well, he isn’t the boss of you when I’m here, but since I have to work in the morning, he will be the one in charge. How about we make pancakes for supper? We can call it brupper.”

She smiles like I just gave her the keys to a magic kingdom. “We call it brupper. We have pancakes. Momma, can I pour it in the mixing bowl?”

I’m just about to answer her when my phone signals a text message. I shift her to my hip, kissing her nose while I look down and see an unknown number. It doesn’t take me long to know who it’s from.



What time is your highness arriving tomorrow?



I’m sorry. You have the wrong number! Are you typing from your throne? And who gave you my number? It’s unlisted.



Calm down. I’m not stalking you, and your phone number is at the bottom of the emails you sent me. So are you still showing up at 2:59?



Okay, I’ll make an exception for you since you’re a princess and all. I’ll be there at 2:55. That is the earliest I will get there. If that isn’t good enough, dress at home!



Princess, trust me, there is nothing female about me.



What the fucking fuck is happening here? Is he fucking flirting with me after basically being the biggest asshole of all time?



Okay, so 2:55 it is. See you then, Stone.



I put away my phone, turning my focus back to one of the most important things. My girl.

“So did you want chocolate chips on those pancakes or are we doing Mickey Mouse ones?”

She giggles and squeals, and in that moment no matter how much I want James to suffer for breaking my heart, he gave me the best thing ever.

The rest of the week goes by without incident. Well, if you count me ignoring him when he talks and him still being condescending, then it’s just like before.

I really can’t wait for this weekend to come. The kids are leaving tonight for their week with their father and his concubine. I don’t think the bitterness will leave, ever. I also don’t think I will ever get used to sharing the kids. The house just dies when they aren’t here.

I skate off the ice and head to take off my skates, slipping my feet into flip flops. When I’m finally finished, I check my messages. One is from James. Gross. I wonder if he ever washes his hands after sex. One is from Meghan. Hmmm, which one to click first? Meghan it is!