AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I quickly rattled off a name I hadn’t said in nearly ten years, but one I’d thought about every hour of every day. I still had her birthday memorized, along with so many other things about her. She was as much a part of me as my music was, living in my very soul. There wasn’t a single thing about her I would ever forget.
“So you want to call me back once you’ve tracked her down?”
“No need. I can tell you where she is right now.”
My chin jerked back in shock. “Look, man. I get that you’re good and all, but you aren’t psychic. You couldn’t have possibly already figured out her address in the past thirty seconds.”
He chuckled good-naturedly. “Don’t need to be psychic when your girl’s not only living in my town, but part of my wife’s crew. Though, if you’re female and in the tri-county area, you’re part of my wife’s crew, so I don’t know if it’s so much a coincidence than an inevitability.”
“Wait.” I squeezed my eyes closed and pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to wrap my head around what he’d told me. “You’re telling me she lives in Hope Valley?”
“Sure does. Alma Rossi’s a bit of a celebrity around these parts. So you want her address? Hell, I won’t even charge you.”
“Hell yeah, I do. And I want you to tell me everything you know about her.”
I was going to need every single advantage possible if I had any chance of winning back the love of my life.
2
ALMA
As I stood in a line surrounded with some of my closest friends, all of them misty-eyed and sniffling, watching our friend Asher say her vows to her soon-to-be husband, all I could think was I hoped like hell the open bar was stocked with my favorite brand of vodka.
There was no mistiness for this girl, no happy sniffles or tears for my friend as she pledged herself to one man—or more specifically, one dick—for the rest of her life. All I really felt as I watched Owen Shields slide that glittery diamond band onto Asher’s finger was hungry. The bride and groom had splurged on the catering for this shindig, keeping the guest list reasonable so they could go all out with beef tenderloin. I was so excited I had skipped breakfast and lunch in preparation.
This marked the fourth wedding I’d attended in less than three years, and the second one where I’d had to don a questionable bridesmaid dress. And there was still another one coming as soon as my friend Sloane’s man popped the question, which I assumed would be any day now. For someone who was as averse to all things holy matrimony as I was, it was ironic how quickly all my friends were suddenly shacking up and getting hitched.
Don’t get me wrong, I was happy for them, and I would certainly never try to discourage any of them from taking that walk down the aisle if their men were good to them and it was what they truly wanted, but commitment and monogamy simply weren’t for me.
At least not anymore.
I’d attempted to go down that road myself in what felt like another lifetime, and the scars from that journey were the kinds that would never heal. I’d shut that part of myself off for good, and I wouldnevertake that kind of risk again. At least not in this lifetime.
In my little ragtag group of friends, I was the one willing to try anything crazy at least once, the one who had a bedpost covered in my fair share of notches. I figured if men could go through life having meaningless sex with whoever caught their attention without judgement, I damn well could too, and no way in hell I would let anyone make me feel ashamed for it.
I didn’t do relationships, but I was ahugefan of the casual hookup. If the man was good enough between the sheets and didn’t bore the life out of me, I was even willing for a few repeats, at least until the attraction fizzled out, which was an inevitability. Just as long as we both went into it with complete honesty and the knowledge that it would never go any further.
Funnily enough, that stereotype of women falling for the man they’re supposed to be having no-strings sex with also applied to the opposite gender in more cases than not, at least in my experience. If I had a dollar for every awkward conversation I had to have after a dude caught feelings, I’d be even closer to those sexy woven leather Gucci boots I had my eye on.
I was pulled out of my daydream of those shoes when everyone in the ballroom shot to their feet and started to clap and whistle for the happy couple as Owen dipped Asher over his arm and devoured her mouth in a kiss that would have been totally inappropriate had we been in a church.
I let out a laugh at the display and brought my pinkies to my lips to whistle them on, happy for my friend as she laughed, pure joy on her face when Owen finally broke the kiss and righted her.
The Wedding March rang through the ballroom and Asher and Owen took off back up the aisle. Moments later, the rest of us followed after them, and, as the ceremony came to a close, my stomach let out a happy rumble at what was to come.
* * *
I fidgeted in my tall, pencil-thin heels, antsy as I held my plate in a white-knuckled grip and willed the line to move faster. I could smell the food from thirty people back, my mouth watering.
Stupid wedding photos, making me late to the buffet when the DJ announced it was finally open. If I didn’t love Asher and the rest of my friends so damn much, I would have clotheslined every one of them and made a run so I’d have been first in line. When it came to food, I didn’t mess around.
My friend and fellow bridesmaid, Marin, teased from behind me. “Jeez, think you could relax for five minutes? With how you’re acting, you’d think you were about to starve to death.”
I shot her a glare over my shoulder. “I very well might,” I snapped indignantly. “I’ve been waiting for this all damn day. I haven’t eaten anything since dinner last night.”
She shot me a look that told me she knew I was full of shit. My friends knew me too well. They knew I couldn’t go that long without eating unless I was unconscious. I had a serious love of food that bordered on co-dependency. What could I say? Eating made me happy. Not as happy as sex, mind you, but I’d had a bit of a dry spell lately.
I wasn’t sure what was going on. Usually, when the mood struck, it was no problem to hit up a bar or something to find a guy to spend some time with. A quick roll in the hay and I was set. But lately, the urge just wasn’t there. It had been months, and nothing. No tingle. No itch. Not so much as a teensy spark.
