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She’s everything I never knew I wanted.
And now I’m going to lose her forever.
I found Roxy in the rain.
She had just gotten kicked out of a club.
She was cold. Wet. Hungry.
I invited her to a diner.
Then to my place.
You see…she had nowhere to go.
I needed a fake fiancé.
It was all for show. For my promotion.
I wasn’t supposed to love her.
She’d already been hurt so much. I didn’t want to be someone that hurt her again.
But I did love her. And I did hurt her.
I was selfish.
Focused on work. For the glory of the title.
The prestige was my poison.
Roxy paid the price.
I broke her heart.
Even if it was all Even if it started out a lie.
The pain was real.
Only one question remains.
How do I win back the woman I never had?
This is a standalone lesbian romance novel with steamy scenes. It does have a happy ending.
One
Helen
Sitting at my desk with beautiful, glossy pictures under my hands, all I can think about is how boring it all is.
When I first got this job five years ago, it all seemed very exciting. I wanted to be in publishing, but I found out early on I simply didn’t have the talent to write. Editing though, that I excelled at. I could take a journalism article or short story to the next level.
I also had a talent for working with both publishers and writers. Writers can be a prickly bunch, assuming editors are out to attack their artistic flair. Publishers don’t really care about their feelings and this just causes more friction.
From the very beginning, I had friends and family sniggering behind their hands that anything as boring as copy editing would certainly suit tame dame Helen, known for leaving parties early, dressing like a grandmother and preferring tea over beer.
I frown at the pages in front of me, letting them blur into swirls of color. Just two years ago my boss, Lisa, told me she wanted me to edit the photos as well as the articles, working on their design in the magazine overall. That didn’t seem boring at all. When I first started doing it, I was almost breathless with anticipation every day.
Even though we had graphic designers and digital artists, I was the one who had the final say on the overall piece, deciding how the layout would work across the entire magazine.
It was, honestly, above and beyond anything I had ever imagined when I got out of college.
So, where did it all go wrong?
I push the papers away from me and try not to look at my computer screen. I always like to use a combination of hard copy and digital files because it helps me pick out small mistakes, but today I don’t want to face either one. Both mediums seem to be judging me on my lack of ability to make them interesting.
I reach out for my flat white coffee and take a sip, suddenly frustrated not just with my work, but with my image of myself.
Boring coffee. Beige skirt. White sweater. My shoes are brown, simple pumps. I had never really thought about it before, but maybe, I’m boring and that’s starting to leak out into other areas of my life. I never thought of myself as boring.
Dependable. Reliable. Honest. Not boring.
I actually felt kind of wild when I came out to my parents. I did it at the same time I got the job. I couldn’t say I was copy editor for ‘Girl on Girl Glamour’ without also admitting to my preferences in a life partner.
I feel my lips pressing together as my jaw tightens. Yeah, I told them, and they were cool. But I didn’t tell them everything.
I’m not boring. Not in some ways. I’ve felt like some kind of freak for most of my life… Until my first visit to the Cozy Nook.
I don’t know why Rachel invited me to the downstairs events. In my shades of brown and pastel, browsing sections on page layout for the most popular publications, how could she have guessed? Maybe, she can just see it from a distance. I’m glad she did, because I wasn’t even sure myself… Until I got down there.
I don’t know what I was expecting that night. One thing was for sure, the second I saw all the BDSM gear and sexy costumes, I expected to be shocked, confronted, scared. I waited for my feet to bolt me right back out again.
But I stayed. I couldn’t leave. I was home. I just knew it. After that I wore my ‘boring’ mask with pride, knowing that on the inside I was a horny, kinky little devil.
I couldn’t tell anyone. Not my family or friends. I couldn’t stand the judgement. Something that I found so natural and beautiful would be seen as ugly and strange to them and I didn’t want to drag that part of myself out into the light only to have it degraded by those who don’t understand.
