Maybe if I focus on the pain, I can use it to distract myself from the lust overcoming my loins.
That’s right: Loren Piper is hella-horny.
Are we still saying hella?
Either way, it’s facts.
I may have a boyfriend, but right now, I can’t even picture Josh’s face.
All I can see is Elliot claiming that woman’s mouth. The way his big hands slid around her waist. How his biceps flexed when he lifted her up so her legs could wrap around his slim hips.
Elliott Grant wins New Year’s hands-down.
All I got were sloppy seconds.
Should I tell Josh I kissed someone to celebrate?
The thought makes me chuckle. Then again, he’d have to answer his phone for me to share the big news.
Elliott glances over at me, his brow furrowing. “What’s so funny?”
“Just wondering if I should tell Josh that I kissed someone else tonight.”
For some reason, the confession doesn’t make him smile. He’s looking at me, so he must’ve heard what I said, but he doesn’t respond.
I guess that’s the end of our conversation.
Oh, well.
With nothing better to do, I take out my phone to check for a message from Josh.
Nothing.
He could’ve at least responded to my last text considering he read it almost as soon as the thing went through.
Whoever invented read receipts must be some sort of masochist.
Pain. Focus on the foot pain to distract yourself from the ache in your chest.
We’re not even to the top of the hill when the balls of my feet start to cramp, and I’m pretty sure my heels are more blister than skin at this stage. Elliott keeps walking, but I stop so I can covertly slip out of my shoes and let the cold pavement soothe my feet.
It’s only meant to be a temporary fix, but after I see the blood gluing my hose to my poor heels, there is no way I’ll be putting these devil shoes back on.
I turn around to find Elliott’s hands planted on his hips and a scowl on his face.
“I fucking knew it.”
“Knew what?” I swallow my grimace as I hobble forward, shoes hooked in one hand and my purse looped in the other.
“That those shoes were going to hurt your feet.”
Surprise, surprise. Another man saying, “I told you so.” Exactly what the world needs since we don’t hear the phrase nearly enough. “I’m in pain. I need sympathy, not judgment.”
Elliot drags a hand down the back of his neck and curses again before turning around and squatting down. “Come on.”
I stare, not sure what he wants me to do. Am I supposed to squat too?
“Get on my back, Loren.”
