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Me, I can admit that Mom and Dad’s breakup made me overcompensate. I developed the most colossal hero complex. Which isn’tthe worstthing, I guess.
In any case, the messiness of my parents’s split was my main motivation for keeping my own divorce as uncomplicated as possible.
I signed over the house to Alana. She transferred the savings account to me. We called it even. Simple as that.
When we signed those papers, Alana and I were in enough pain as it was. There was no need to make things worse with swinging egos and immature spitefulness. On nights like tonight, I’m glad my ex and I decided to take the high road.
The guys all drag mismatched wooden chairs over to the girls’ corner booth. I feel someone push me down onto a chair.
I’m careful to not sit too close to Alana. I’m sure she couldn’t care less where I sit. But being close enough to catch her trademark candy-scented hair and the hints of her lemon-lavender perfume triggers more memories than I can handle.
Everyone drinks and laughs, while we make our way through each of the bachelorette games. None of these games actually make a lick of sense. The girls seem to be making up the rules as we go, modifying them to fit their own motives.
During some weird version ofNever or Ever, the topic lands on car sex. Alana’s eyes dart to mine from behind her wispy blonde bangs and her cheeks turn red.
Her reaction ignites a spark beneath my skin and in the wink of an eye, a chain of lewd thoughts is streaming like a PornHub playlist in my mind. Shit.
Toomany memories of my ex-wife and I.Toomany times. Intoomany vehicles to count. Making each other feeltoogood to describe.
Age sixteen, slipping my fingers under the hem of her cut-off jeans in the backseat of Cash’s old Volkswagen Quantum.
On the drive home from a weekend road trip at age twenty-one, pulling over to the side of the road so she could wrap her lips around my cock.
Parked in our dark garage with her riding me hard in the front seat of my new Jeep the first night I brought it home from the dealership.
Oh, I havemore than enoughcar sex memories to torture me for a lifetime.
My cock revs to life in my jeans. So,nowhe wants to get all revved up? After lying around like a dead fish in my pants the whole time I was at the strip club? I’m a pathetic case.
I don’t even realize that I’m staring at Alana until she steals another discreet glance in my direction. When she catches me ogling her, I watch the blush spread down her chest and across her cleavage. I’m acutely aware that I knowexactlywhat that blush tastes like, what her flushed skin feels like under my tongue, what her—
Stop that shit, asshole.
Alana’s pouty bottom lip twitches. She reaches into her purse and uncaps her lipgloss, discreetly dotting the pale pink color across that luscious mouth. It’s a cute thing she absentmindedly does when she’s feeling self-conscious.
Translation: I’m making her uncomfortable with all my staring.
Turning my gaze away from her, I keep my lips sealed about all the kinky things my ex-wife and I used to get up to back in the day. But it’s almost painful, listening to our friends, bragging about their own adventures.
“We did the dirty at Jasper’s mechanic shop,” Emma bursts out on a giggle. “On the hood of a silver Dodge Charger.”
My brother clasps a hand over his wife’s mouth, laughing too. “Shhh, woman. That was a customer’s car. Are you trying to put me out of business? We have a mortgage to pay at the end of the month.” He picks up one of the questionnaires and quickly changes the subject, moving the game right along. “Next question—when was the very first time you realized you had a thing for your partner?”
All eyes turn to the soon-to-be bride and groom.
Meghan loops her arm through Cash’s, responding with a blush. “You remember that night we were coming home from the beach? Our senior year of high school?” she asks him.
“The night in front of the gas station?” Cash chuckles, shooting me a knowing look.
I instantly remember the night they’re talking about.
I remember walking down the crowded boardwalk, Alana’s sweaty hand clasped in mine. I remember her sun-bleached hair flowing carelessly in the balmy afternoon breeze and the freckles bejeweling her button nose. I remember her giggles filling the backseat of Cash’s car later that night when I traced the length of her slender neck with my tongue.
I remember how easy falling in love with her was that summer.
Meghan laughs. “I totally had the hots for you then,” she admits to Cash. “I think we were both trying to play it cool. But Davis and Alana were in the backseat behind us, making out like horny lunatics.”
“Shit, I could have sworn they were having sex back there.” Cash throws me a snarl. “It was so fucking awkward.”
