Sweet Revenge_A curvy girl romance Page 5

  “So? Am I picking you up tonight, or am I picking you up tonight?”

  I have to laugh. He’s just too damn much. “You’re picking me up tonight.”

  His mouth curves up at the corners in a slow smile. “You’ve made the right choice.”

  “I’ve also made a very time-consuming choice.” I glance over at the clock across the room. “I have to get going so I can prepare myself.”

  He looks me up and down, eyes narrowing dangerously and sexily, but then everything he does is sexy. I’m fairly sure he’s not even human. “You look pretty good to me right now, just the way you are.”

  What woman wouldn’t melt at the sound of those words coming out of his mouth? I have to control myself, or I might end up flat on my back again and take up even more of my day. “Thanks, but I don’t know that your friends or whoever will be at this party will agree with you. Unless the party is here, in this bed.”

  “That’s the after party,” he murmurs with another sexy grin.

  And now I wonder why we have to go to an actual party at all.

  Chapter 11

  Dawn

  There’s only one thing to do when I get home. The one thing I’ve been wanting to do since, oh, the minute Ace approached me at the gym. She’s been in the back of my mind since last night, but the very back, of course. Ace obviously took center stage.

  But a girl’s best friend is generally the first person you need in moments like this. I’ve basically lived out every woman’s fantasy and I have to share with her.

  And maybe gloat a little. I mean, who wouldn’t?

  It’s not as if I’ve had a lot to gloat over in the last few years. I remember James self-satisfied smirk, and he is like something that happened in another lifetime. What was I thinking? Just one night with a man like Ace is enough to show me the difference between what I thought I was worth—which was nothing much—and what was possible all along. I can’t believe I ever sold myself short like that.

  And if nothing comes of this fling with Ace, if that’s what it is, I’ll have that much. A man like him wanted me and treated me the way he did.

  Not to mention he wants to take me out tonight, New Year’s Eve.

  Gena answers on the first ring. “What’s wrong?”

  It takes a second for me to recover from this greeting. “Say what?”

  “What’s wrong? You never call me in the morning unless something’s wrong.”

  I laugh softly. How well she knows me. If I hadn’t gone to the gym last night, she would have been dead right. I would’ve been calling with much different news and in a much different mood. I’d probably be surrounded by empty wine bottles and the tear soaked tissues. Even if I got really pissed last night, the anger would’ve worn off and other emotions would’ve taken over. Like regret for wasting two years of my life.

  “Actually, nothing’s wrong at all. Everything’s right.” I catch my reflection in the mirror. There is a very smug, cat-got-all-the-cream grin on my face. If I met me on the street, I’d probably make me want to puke.

  She snorts disbelieving. “Oh. Don’t tell me James actually did something right for once.”

  That would ordinarily make me roll my eyes, even though my heart would be sinking a little. Not anymore. No, sir. I flop down on the bed. “You know what? He actually did. For once he did something right.”

  “What’s that?”

  “He broke up with me.”

  “What?” she shrieks.

  “It was the best thing he could’ve done,” I say dreamily.

  But Gena is off on a different tangent. She always hated James with a passion. “That douchebag really thought he should be the one to break up with you? What freaking planet does he live on?”

  “It’s okay. It really is. I would never have done it myself. I needed the push.”

  She goes quiet. “You mean that?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “So, he’s gone? For good? This isn’t one of those he’s-gone-but-just-for-today-because-I’m-gonna-take-him-back-the-minute-he-realizes-he-can’t-find-anything-better kind of thing?”

  “That sounds a little too specific,” I mutter.

  She whoops with joy. “I mean it. He’s gone for good? You’re not just saying it because you think it’s what I want to hear? How much alcohol have you consumed? Did you even stop drinking yet?”

  “Do I sound wasted?”

  “No,” she admits, “but you do sound a little… gooey. Like over-happy. Which doesn’t work with the news you just dropped on me.”

  I have to bite down on the side of my fist to keep from laughing outright, and it’s a fight to keep my voice steady. “Oh, right. I forgot to tell you what else happened.”

  She lets out a familiar, frustrated growl. “What? Come on. Stop dragging it out!”

  A deep breath. “I might have met somebody new last night.”

  Silence.

  “Hello?” I ask, checking the phone to be sure we’re still connected.

  “Yeah. Still here,” she replies. “Just who did you meet between breaking up with James and now? I mean, it can’t have been more than, what, a few hours?”

  Jeez. When she puts it that way, all negative and questioning and whatnot, it sort of takes the wind out of my sails. I was proud of myself until just a minute ago. Now, all the old insecurities are beginning to creep back in and I’m starting to feel just a little ashamed.

  “I met somebody really nice, actually. At the gym.”

  “At the gym,” she echoes.

  “Could you try to stop sounding like my mother for, like, five minutes? I called you because I had a great time and wanted to tell you all about it.”

  She sighs. “Okay, I’m sorry. I’m not trying to shame you in any way. I mean that. I’m just concerned because you made it sound like you went out and picked up some random guy. You do realize that seems very extreme, right? And definitely unlike you.”

  “You’re right about that. It’s very unlike me. But he’s the one who picked me up, so…”

  “Tell me all about him, then.”

  So I do—what he looks like and what his apartment is like and how absolutely incredible he was in bed. All four times.

  When I finish, more silence.

  “Did you hang up on me?”

  She giggles. “No. I’m trying to cool myself off after what you just told me. He seriously smeared ice cream on your body?”

  “Mm-hmm.” Did he ever. My cheeks flush at the memory, along with other parts of my body, which were sore, but are now pretty tingly going over those heated memories.

  “It’s official, and this is one thing I never thought I’d say: I hate you.”

  “I’ll wear that like a badge of honor.” I hug that warm glow radiating through me. This morning, I’m just like any other girl, telling her best friend about being picked up a gorgeous man and having a wild night with him.

  “Nah. You know I don’t mean it. You deserve this, and a lot more. You’ve been selling yourself short for too long.”

  I roll over onto my back with a sigh, staring up at the ceiling. “You know, it’s funny. You’ve told me that how many times before? That I was selling myself short?”

  “Around a hundred billion times. And you always yes’d me to death, like all you wanted was for me to leave you alone.”

  “Honestly, that was what I wanted then.”

  “I know you did. I understand.”

  “But now, I get it,” I continue. “I mean, after last night… I don’t know, it’s like if nothing ever comes from this—and I don’t expect it to, I just want to enjoy what’s happening—I’ll at least know now for sure that I shouldn’t sell myself short. The difference between James and Ace? I mean, it’s staggering. I can’t even begin to explain.”

  “You already told me more than once how unsatisfying he was in bed,” she reminds, as if I need the reminder.

  “I didn’t tell you a quarter of the truth,” I admit, “but it’s more than that, t
oo. He was nice to me. Doesn’t that sound pathetic? I just said it out loud and it sets my teeth on edge.”

  “It’s all right. You know that of all people, I understand.”

  And she does, which is why I can trust her to listen to the mess going on in my head. “He wanted me. He actively pursued me and took me home with him. And when I saw he wanted me I really mean wanted me. He cared whether I was having a good time. He took the time to make sure I was satisfied. When I tried to leave this morning, he pulled me back into bed! I mean, come on! He even invited me out with him tonight.”

  “He what?”

  “Oh yeah, didn’t I mention,” I gush happily. “He invited me to a party tonight! Medium-fancy.” I giggle, heat rushing into my cheeks. “This is like something out of a dream, Gena. Things like this just don’t happen to me.”

  “But oh, my dear,” she quips, and I can hear the smile in her voice, “they do. Because it’s happening right now.”

  “I don’t know what the heck I’m going to wear.” I turn my head in the direction of my half-open closet door. I was so merry I left it open last night before going to the gym. It’s chock-full of clothes, most of them dark and sort of … unflattering.

  “You have that nice green dress, don’t you? You always look good in that.”

  “Yeah, but that’s going-out-with-the-girls good. Not medium-fancy-party good,” I fret as I get up from the bed to go to the closet.

  “The way you make this guy sound, Dawn, it won’t matter what you wear. For Christ’s sake, he picked you up at the gym while you were in workout clothes.”

  “I know, I know, but he made a big deal about telling me how lucky he’ll be to walk in with me on his arm. I don’t want to let him down.”

  “He did?” she sighs in a voice around an octave higher than normal.

  I grin. “Swooning yet?”

  “Yeah, I just full-on swooned, girl. Good thing I’m sitting down.”

  “I should’ve warned you in advance, I guess,” I say with a laugh, as I begin sliding dresses back and forth over the rod—but that laugh dies in my throat when I reach the half of the closet that isn’t mine. “Oh, crap.”

  “What?”

  “James. All his things are still here. You know what that means.”

  “It means you get the joy of throwing every last bit of it out of the window, that’s what it means. And while you’re at it, you need to get the locks changed so he can’t come slinking back like the slimy little creep he is.”

  “Yeah. You’re right about that. Though I don’t know if that approach would go do too well with my neighbors. I don’t want to piss them off.”

  “True. Just get rid of every trace of him. Make sure you don’t owe him a damn thing.”

  I run my fingertips over one of his shirts. “Girl, we are on the same page. Don’t you worry.”

  “Meanwhile, in all seriousness, I hope things work out with Ace.”

  I wish my heart didn’t go and skip a beat when she just said that. “I told you, I’m not looking for anything to come of this.”

  “I know, I know, but don’t pretend it wouldn’t be nice if it all worked out. You deserve something really good in your life, Dawn. You’re the best person I know, and you’ve lucked out on happiness for a long time now.”

  “Thank you,” I murmur.

  “This Ace sounds like a good one. I hope he is.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I insist, shaking my head. “Because here’s the thing: it really doesn’t matter if it doesn’t work out.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you need to see this guy.” I say, trying not to let my voice change. “Sure, I’m fun for a night or two. It’s flattering, and we both know I needed the boost to my self-esteem. But I’m nothing like him. We’re too different. He’s a fitness buff, and I’m…not. Most definitely not.”

  “What difference does that make?”

  “Oh, come on. Be real with me for a minute. Stop speaking as my supportive best friend and give it to me straight. I’m not the sort of girl a gym owner could be serious about for the long-term. He’s going to get tired of not being with a girl who looks more like he does.”

  “You don’t give him a lot of credit, do you?”

  “Maybe I’ve been burned too many times.”

  “Maybe you were messing around with the wrong guys. Ever think about that?”

  I picture her in my head: tall, statuesque, with a body that makes men turn their heads wherever she goes. I once watched a guy almost fall into a mall fountain because he couldn’t stop looking at her as he walked by. It was funny as hell, yeah, but a reminder of who she is and who I’ll never be.

  She could never understand what it feels like to be me.

  Isn’t it funny how girls like me, who’ve witnessed the shitty side of men more times than we can count, know more about the way men really think than girls like her do? You’d think it would be the other way around, since she’s supposed to be the one with all the experience.

  “Either way, I don’t want to fall into anything right now. You’re the one who thought it was a little soon to be hooking up with somebody hours after I broke up with James. Now, you’re telling me you hope things work out with us.”

  “What’s wrong with wanting you to be happy?”

  “I just want to have fun. That’s all. Okay?” The more she talks about how I deserve happiness and how she wants things to work out for me and Ace, the more my heart wants it, too. The more realistic it sounds. The more dangerous it becomes.

  “Okay, okay. Whatever you want. But if you end up having his babies, that’s all right, too.”

  “Shut up,” I laugh. “You’re not helping things.”

  Chapter 12

  Dawn

  “I know this is last-minute, and I realize it’s New Year’s Eve, but do you think somebody could come around today? As soon as possible?” I close my eyes and cross my fingers.

  The locksmith’s gruff voice at the other end of the phone lets out a heavy sigh as if I’m putting him out more than anybody’s ever put anybody out in the entire history of the world. It isn’t as if I’m asking him to come out on Christmas morning, or something.

  “Please,” I beg. I need to get him here, today. Before James decides he’s going to come back and worm his way into my life. Every time I so much as hear the door to the street open and close, my heart clenches with fear that it’s him.

  I don’t even know what I would do. I can’t see him again, I just can’t. Not that I’m afraid I’d fall for him again or anything like that. Oh, no, that ship has sailed so far I can’t even see it in the distance anymore. I just don’t want to see him. As a matter of fact, I don’t want to ever see his face again. I’ll remember all the times I gave in to him, all the times I settled for him. God, I was so stupid.

  It’s bad enough, remembering the past. I don’t need the sight of his face to bring it all into clearer focus.

  I’m not getting an answer from Mister Locksmith, so it’s time to up the ante a little. “I’ll give you an extra fifty dollars. Please, Mr. Johnson. You don’t know how important it is to me that I get the locks on my apartment door changed as quickly as possible.” The little bit of anxiety I inject into my voice can’t hurt things, either.

  He sighs again, softer this time. “It’s that sort of situation, huh?”

  “Yes, it is.” Sure. Whatever he needs to think.

  “All right. I can be there in an hour.”

  “Thank you so much!” And he’ll get an extra sixty dollars, instead.

  Now that things are set on that end, it’s time to bag up the garbage and leave it outside. That’s where garbage goes, after all.

  I thought this would hurt. I really did. Whenever I got the feeling James was on his way out the door—and that was, oh, once every few months or so—my stomach would twist with fear and I’d get cold sweats as if I was actually sick.

  But I was sick, all right. Sick in the head for ever thinkin
g I needed him.

  Crummy old sports jerseys he likes to wear even though he’s never played a sport in his life? Bagged.

  Holey underwear he refuses to replace? Bagged.

  Worn-out shoes? See ya.

  Bobblehead figures I’ve hated with a flaming passion ever since I first laid eyes on them? Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.

  Everything I toss into a bag, or a box leaves me feeling just a little lighter. Freer. Happier. It’s like I’m shedding all this excess weight and excess sadness, and now there’s room for so many other things. There’s so much more to life. I never would’ve imagined it otherwise.

  I guess I owe James a lot. We owe a lot to the people who teach us what we do not want from life. It’s like he took a flashlight and shone it on all the uncomfortable bits in my life. He showed me what’s important and what’s not. So I’m a little more gentle with the bobbleheads than I would like to be. I owe him that much.

  It’s amazing, what Ace has already done for me. I’m actually humming by the time the locksmith knocks on the door. I fix coffee for both of us as he works. He’s a nice man, if a little brusque. His eyebrows fly into his cap when he sees the row of overstuffed garbage bags and boxes.

  “Yes. That’s his stuff,” I confirm. “In case you were wondering.”

  “I wasn’t,” he lies—then gruffly, “Do you want somebody to be here with you while he comes to pick it up?”

  What a sweet man. “I don’t think so. As long as the door is locked between us, it’ll be fine. But I really appreciate the offer.”

  By the time my coffee cup is empty, he’s finished. And he refuses the extra money. He’s the second really nice man I’ve met in the last twenty-four hours. It’s enough to give a girl hope.

  Hope is what I need, too, because I need to make a phone call now. I’ve been putting it off all this time. I have no reason to do it anymore—besides, I have other things to do. Like making myself gorgeous for tonight.

  James answers on the first ring. Like he’s been waiting for me to call all along. Expecting me to. “What took you so long?” he asks.