AllFreeNovel
Share Us
This got, Auntie Coco?
To which, of course, I returned, Shut up.
And received, At your command. Thanks for a fantastic time, doll. Sleep well.
And yes, the Haze still influencing me, I’d returned, I agree. And I will. You too.
Not even getting out of my car, my thumbs went immediately to return something droll and meant to make him laugh that gorgeous laugh of his, or even just smile his warm, sweet smile, but I stopped myself, lifted the phone and tapped it against my forehead.
“What are you doing, Coco? What are you doing? What are you doing?”
Judge was not my type at all.
I went for artists and assholes (almost always one and the same, though assholes, in my experience, came in many varieties).
Judge was neither.
This wouldn’t seem, to some, an issue.
It was an issue to me.
I could control my emotions with an asshole. I could hold back parts of me.
I could walk away from them.
I was okay with it if they walked away from me.
However, as big of an issue as this was, it wasn’t the main one.
That top spot was occupied with Judge playing havoc on my peace of mind.
Because when I was with him, that was what I had.
Peace of mind.
When he was around, I was totally at one with the world, because that world centered around Judge, and I was totally at one with being with him.
Once I’d let my guard down, he was just…easy.
It was the first time I’d experienced this sense of calm since Mom and Dad sat us down and shared they were having problems, and those problems were serious.
An event that rocked my world. Matt’s. Sasha’s.
It was inconceivable.
And then it got worse.
It made no sense that Judge making me feel on solid ground again would, at the same time, unbalance me.
But it did.
And it did much more than that.
It terrified me.
We had spent one night and one day exploring what an us might be.
And still…
I needed to cool us off. Pull back. Reinforce my shields.
No.
Completely put a stop to it.
This just didn’t seem to be something I was capable of when he was around.
Or even when he wasn’t.
Or when he was just texting.
Doing this the moment he got home after he left me after we’d spent a day and a half together, and every moment of it was marvelous.
Then doing it more the next morning.
No playing games.
Connecting.
Making it clear he was looking forward to spending more time with me.
Making it clear I knew he’d enjoyed the time we had.
And when he was with me, making no bones about demonstrating he found me interesting, he found me amusing, he liked talking to me, he liked looking at me, he enjoyed touching me, even not intimately. Just affectionately.
I didn’t know if a man had ever held my hand, but if he had, I hadn’t remembered.
Maybe it had happened, and I didn’t remember because it didn’t matter.
And Judge mattered.
I sensed I would remember always the first time Judge took my hand.
Even when Judge wasn’t around (like last night after he left, and all morning that morning), I’d fall into thinking about him, remembering things he’d said or looks he’d given me or that kiss in my kitchen.
Our activities on the couch.
I was borderline obsessed with him.
(Okay, maybe not borderline.)
And that wouldn’t do.
It relinquished power.
And doing that made you vulnerable.
I couldn’t have either.
Instead of returning Judge’s texts, I opened another text string.
The one to Matt, who had yet to reply.
And since I was in a mood, but regardless, it was time, I didn’t pussyfoot around.
As you seem to be on a mission to alienate yourself from your family, allow me to congratulate you. When it comes to your elder sister, mission accomplished.
After I sent that, I sent:
I said some things because I love you and worry about you, and I love our father and worry about him. And you’re intent to make me suffer for that.
Suffer for love and worry.
I let that loose, then I lowered the hammer.
Well, fuck you too, Matt.
Don’t bother with replying to this either. Even if you finally realize you’re acting like an ass, I don’t want to hear from you, because you’ll need to give me some time to get over being pissed at you.
I sent that last, shoved my phone in my purse, pulled myself out of the car, and headed into the shop, not feeling like a woman who spent the weekend with a great guy. A great guy who she knew could mean great things to her, because he’d already become that.
Feeling like a woman who could start screaming, but she didn’t because she wouldn’t stop.
Or start crying, but she didn’t do that either.
Because she was terrified she couldn’t stop.
The good news was, I could be in a bitchy mood all by myself.
Mi-Young had Mondays off. On Mondays, I opened and took care of the store until one of the part-timers came in in the afternoon. Weekdays were never a rush, especially during the day. One to two staffers were okay even if I had a relatively large store space.
