Page 9 of His Good Girl

Alexis, the girl that has plagued my dreams for months, shifting in my seat as my cock perks up just hearing her name. I clear my throat, trying to diffuse the desire rising in me. “She got in here quick. I thought it just opened a few weeks ago.”

“It did, but Kyle was able to get reservations on Friday,” Marcee says before looking at the menu. “Oh, don’t let me forget to get a cannoli for her. She was in such a hurry to leave that she skipped dessert Friday, and you know Lexie, that girl is all about the sweets.”

Something twists in my gut. Picturing Alexis on a date, in such a hurry to get back to her place with said date, suddenly has me losing my appetite as mental images of her with another man flood my mind. I internally scold myself for being territorial over Alexis. She’s my daughter's best friend—I have no right to be jealous. Feeling like an idiot, I stare at the menu, not seeing anything as my vision blanks. Trying to act nonchalant but having to know if she's serious with someone, I finally ask, “So, has she been with her boyfriend for long?” The word tastes sour in my mouth.

“Oh, God no!” Marcee laughs as she peruses the menu. “It was a first date, and from the sound of it, the last one as well. He kept talking about his mom and asking her weird questions about having kids and marriage. Totally freaked her out. Tanner and I laughed for thirty minutes straight as she recounted the date. Oh, and apparently, the kiss goodnight was like kissing a Saint Bernard. She went straight to the shower saying she needed to wash him off her.”

The tension coiled in my stomach finally relaxes at Marcee’s words and the satisfaction coursing through me at her not being with someone else, is something I choose not to look too closely at. I’m also not going to examine the possessive feelings I felt hearing she kissed someone else, because that is none of my business, even if I know my kiss wouldn’t be something she needed to wash off after.

I pick my menu back up, suddenly famished and feeling excited about the future. In the end, we both ordered the risotto and capped it off with some cannolis, and a to-go order for Alexis.

14

ALEXIS

“Great class, everyone! Keep it up, and instead of getting a keg belly at college, you’ll leave with a six pack!” The class laughs and a few girls clap. I work at a gym not too far from campus teaching a Butts and Guts class. It’s one of the gym's most popular classes and I love leading it. The manager says if I keep up the good work I can move over to a personal trainer position next year, which is my ultimate goal.

As I gather my stuff to head to the showers, the classroom door flies open, slamming against the wall. “You stupid fucking bitch!” I freeze, recognizing that voice without even having to look at the speaker. Gasps ring out around the room. Footsteps approach, and I whip around to find Jax right in my face, with the necklace I threw away dangling from his hand. “Who the fuck do you think you are? You have some fucking nerve.” Spit catches in the corners of his mouth, making him look rabid.

“Someone get security, please,” I call over his shoulder. I can feel the heat spreading across my cheeks. I cannot believe he’s here making a scene. “Jax, you need to leave. We are done. I don’t want to see you, talk to you, or get presents from you.”

“Oh, you think that little boy scout you’re fucking can take care of your needs? That douche probably doesn’t even know what a clit is!”

Clenching my fist, I attempt to control my rage. “Well, he can’t be any worse at finding it than you were. If it weren’t for your dick piercing, I wouldn’t have even been able to feel you inside of me,” I retort, the initial embarrassment out the window, replaced with anger that burns through me. For too long, I’ve sat back and listened to people talk about me like I’m trash, like I’m worthless. I’m over it and over being a punching bag. Snickers come from the women that haven’t cleared out. Jax’s face turns bright red as he lunges for me, screaming.

“Fuck you! I can’t believe I fell for your fucking act!” Spittle peppers my cheeks as he rages with his face inches from mine.

“What act? You’re insane!”

“Oh, stop, Lexie. You’ve nailed the poor girl with daddy issues act. All the while, you’re on your back, spreading your legs for anyone that wants to fuck your pussy like a whore. Well, guess what, no one will ever want a washed-up skank like you!”

Security grabs Jax and drags him out of the room. Silence falls, and one by one, the participants that were still here finally leave, realizing the show is over. My boss comes in and asks if I’m okay. I assure him I am, but he tells me to take the weekend and sort out my shit because he doesn’t have time for my drama in his gym.

With shaking hands, I pack up my bag, skip the locker room to avoid hearing the inevitable gossip already spreading, and head to my car. I barely get the door closed before hot angry tears stream down my face. Jax’s words echo in my mind, so similar to what Vivian had screamed at me last year. Was that all anyone would ever see me as? Can no one actually see that it was all an act? That I only used sex to protect myself from being hurt again? My phone bings at that moment and I see a message from Kyle.

Kyle:

Hi Alexis. I had a great time last weekend. Sorry I haven’t called or texted. It was fun, and that kiss was WOW. But I'm looking for a good girl. One that has saved herself for me, and I’ve heard that you are not that kind of girl, they said your nickname was Sexy Lexie. So, I don’t think we should see each other again.

Welp, I guess that answers my questions. No one will ever see me as anything more than a piece of ass. Fuck, I can’t even escape that fucking nickname from high school. What’s the point of trying when that’s all anyone will ever see? Shame and resentment course through me, flooding my brain with too many emotions to process. Every hurtful comment, every time I was pushed aside and forgotten, replays in my mind.

On my way home, I stop at the store and grab a large tub of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. My weekend is now wide open, and Marcee is going to her dad’s. Maybe I’ll just spend it with my good friends vodka and Häagen-Dazs. Yeah, that’ll make it better, I think despondently.

15

ALEXIS

Marcee came out of her room with her bags packed to find me on the couch, crying while eating ice cream straight from the tub. Her original plan was to see Tanner for a bit, then get to her dad’s place around dinner time, but after seeing me looking so pathetic, she announced that she was leaving early and I was coming with her so we could work on our tans by the pool. At the mention of a pool, I give in and stuff my swimsuit and some comfy clothes into a bag. On a whim, I grab a vibrator from my nightstand, you know, just in case.

Thirty minutes later, we’re on the road as I try to remember if I packed any underwear. I shrug, not really caring if I go commando, letting my head fall back against the seat. Marcee drives since I’ve been drinking already, which is fine by me; I just want to zone out.

“You sure your dad won't mind?” I ask for the tenth time during the forty-minute drive to his new place.

“Don’t be stupid! He will love seeing you again. Plus, I saw him last week when he flew in, so it isn’t our first meet-up since he got back.”

Marcee pulls off the main road and enters a code at the gate. We wind down the driveway and my mouth drops open when I see his new place. It’s a gorgeous mediterranean style home that screams old world charm. The cream stucco walls glow in the amber sunlight. Terracotta roof tiles crown the villa, looking somehow both new and weathered. Vines spill down from the dark wood balconies with bright pink flowers fluttering in the breeze, making it look like something from Under the Tuscan Sun.

Stepping out of the car, the warm salty breeze hits me and I spot a small trail leading down to the water. I’ll definitely need to work in a morning run down there while I’m here. Turning back to the house, I take in the arched entryway that leads to a rustic wooden door with iron detailing and an honest to God iron door knocker. All the windows of the house sport the same arched shape. I’m in love. If I dreamt up a perfect home, this would be it. So warm and inviting, I shiver thinking of living in a place like this.