Kay glanced at her phone, then groaned. “Now I have to go back home to grab Amir’s glasses. I swear …” She tapped at her screen, then dropped the phone on the table. “Okay, you’ve stalled long enough, Albany.”
My dominant emotions teetered between dread and embarrassment.Dread, because since this morning, my sole focus was his infuriatingly handsome face, his hooded eyes—and his dick. And that was ameproblem.Embarrassment, because I’d vowed to not let him affect me.
The hits kept coming, too. I’d missed an important phone call with my divorce attorney, stubbed my toe on the way to the bathroom, and suffered through an acute allergic reaction to the tiny piece of pineapple that fell in my late-night smoothie. As if things couldn’t get worse, I couldn’t even make myself come—not even with the big rubber dildo I’d recently purchased from my favorite Black-owned naughty toy company.
The waitress returned with my coffee. I stared at the table, still torn about how much I was willing to divulge. Telling my homegirls everything that happened felt like an act of terrorism against myself. What would it accomplish exactly? Other than highlighting that I was a horny bitch. Correction, I was a clumsy-as-fuck, desperate-ass, horny-ass bitch. And that was the sad part.
Explaining to them that I felt the need to masturbate after one almost-kiss made me feel all kinds of things. Pitiful. Weak.And still horny.Then there was the act of admitting it out loud. I loved Bri and Kay, but there was so much they didn’t know about me, so much I’d kept hidden from them. Still, I felt the need to unburden myself.
Kay nibbled on her bottom lip. “I’m worried about you, Pookie. You’ve been so erratic, not like the Albany I know. Honestly, sometimes I wonder if you’ve fixated on Wes because you can’t deal with the end of your marriage to Darrell.”
Like a faucet, I slipped into anger mixed with overwhelming regret. And I decided to embrace it. “I have to face my choice to marry Darrell every single day when I look in the mirror,” I grumbled, trying to keep my voice even. “My bank account was on life support because of him. I had to sleep in Bri’s bedroom for months because of him. The only reason I’m not there right now is because Granny took pity on me after I wrote a sad, rambling, inappropriate email about how my life is a shit show.”
“Hey, I—”
I cut Bri off to continue my rant. “My credit is shit because of him. Trust me, I don’t need an excuse to think about Darrell and everything that he’s put me through. And, no, I don’t need to transfer that negative energy onto Wes. They both suck.”Except Wes doesn’t suck.
Kay raised her arms in surrender. “Okay, sis. I got it. I just want you to be okay.”
“Well, I’m getting better every day,” I confessed. “Sometimes, I’m not okay. Sometimes, I’m a mess. But I’m not defeated. Right now, I’m just embarrassed because I”—I leaned closer and lowered my voice—“broke my dildo trying to fuck imaginary Wes in the shower this morning.”
Still unable to meet their eyes, I fumbled with a napkin. When I didn’t receive a response, not even a snicker of laughter, I glanced up at them. Only to find both of them staring at me with wide eyes and mouths.
Kay blinked, then snapped her mouth closed. “How did—”
Shaking her head, Brianna blew out a slow breath. “I’m at a loss for words right now. And I’m wondering how … I’m sorry. I got nothing.”
My cheeks burned with embarrassment. “I know. It’s crazy, huh?”
“Very.” Kay grabbed Bri’s mimosa and finished it. “I’m going to assume you and Wes had an argument or something.”
Sighing, I confessed, “No. He’s still an asshole and everything, but he’s a nice asshole. Every time I see him, I’m hit with these warring emotions. I hate him, but I don’t hate him. He’s not my friend, but he kind of is. I don’t like him, but I do. He sucks, but not really. I told you I’m a hot-ass mess. I can’t control my emotions.”
Kay narrowed her eyes as if in deep thought. “When is the last time you saw him? I’m just trying to figure out what prompted this.”
“He bought me a Big Mac!” I snapped.
“How does that translate to masturbation?” Bri asked, confusion etched across her brow. “’Cause I’m still trying to wrap my brain around this.”
“Ugh.” I dropped my head against the table. “I haven’t had an orgasm from a real dick since the night before I filed for divorce.”
Kay fell back against the seat, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. “Really?”
“This is so much information,” Bri added. “Whew, chile. So why you don’t just get some?”
My gaze flashed to her. “Sure. Why don’t I just go out and ask some random guy to give it to me?”
“I don’t think she’s talking about a stranger, boo,” Kay suggested. “You live in the same building with the man you want to fuck. So just pin him against a wall and rub yourself on him.”
“Actually, I don’t even think she needs to do that. Wes looked like he wanted to devour her the last time I saw him.”
I let out a wistful sigh. “That was the night.”
“The night you what?” Bri asked. “Because I was there, and you were sitting on the other side of the table eating your pizza in silence.”
“Silence because you and Hendrix kept arguing about stupid shit,” I tossed back. “Seriously, you can’t talk about anything, sis.”
“We’re not talking about me and Hendrix, though,” Bri argued.
