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What Jaxon didn’t seem to understand is that I’m not just telling people to sleep with one person for the rest of their lives. It’s about self-healing and loving yourself before you love another. It may not be about statistics, like Jaxon uses, but it’s fromexperience and wanting to pass the baton to other people. Those who get wrapped up in an emotional mess after having flings or one-night stands.
Chapter Twenty-Three
JAXON
I can’t remember what made me decide on checking out Abigail’s book signing, but I admit it was a good decision. There was some spare time before my own book signing would start, so I found the room she’s in.
Now, standing outside the door, peeking through the side, I watch her stand in front of everyone, excited in her demeanor and oozing confidence. Outspoken, pouring her heart and soul into her work. The way she speaksseems like waves of motivation flow from her, captivating the audience.
All this time, I saw Abigail’s beauty and sex-appeal, as well as quirky personality, but it seems there was more to her than I thought. I realize that the whole time we spent together, annoying each other and then sexually, we never truly opened up to one another. We didn’t cover our work in depth, so in hindsight, it was more of a superficial, ‘I think this way, and you think that way’ relationship, or whatever it was. There was nothing else. There was a lot of emptiness which now makes me feel… dejected.
Would we have gotten on more if we actually spoke about other interests, or opened up a little? There was always time to add other things to our conversations.
But how much would you really say? If you can’t talk about it to anyone, why would you open Pandora’s box for Abigail?
I note how the audience is taking snapshots, holding her books and their expressions full of admiration. No doubt, because she is more than what I expected her to be. In some way, she is a motivational speaker, not just expressing her unpleasant experiences and projecting them in a negative way on others. It’s more than that.
Watching this makes me wonder what I deliver to my audience? I set out to reassure people that their choices are fine, but after seeing what Abigail does and says, I am starting to re-evaluate what I offer.
I’ve said all that I wanted to in this current book. The rest of my passion lies with data analytics and statistics. I can go on about it as much as I want, but what if the image I’ve made of myself will make everyone doubt my knowledge? At the end of the day, I am a stereotypical man that likes to fuck women. If I want to change my image, it’s going to take time to come out of the pigeonhole that I’ve made for myself.
I shove my hands into my pockets as I turn and may my way over to the function room with my name on the door.
Although midway, I’m stopped in my tracks as I see a guy leaning against the door, coffee in hand, looking around as if he’s waiting for someone. I continue walking and glance at him again, wondering if he’s here for my talk. As I get closer, his expression lights up and he strides over to me, his left arm stretched out, ready for a shake.
“Hi Jaxon, I know it’s not yet time to meet, but I thought I could catch you before others come over.”
I force a smile because, for once, I’m not deep in thinking about Abigail but my future. Noticing his grin, I push away the thoughts for now and refocus on the man in front of me.
“No problem. How can I help a fellow,” I want to say, ‘playboy’ but then I remember that my focus is on making him feel comfortable with his choices. It makes me feel shit because it reminds me of the disgusted expression Abigail wore when she found out about my book. I feel uneasy as I imagine how she would feel seeing this guy come to me wagging his tail because I sleep around with ladies and don’t care what others think.
Do I still feel like that?
Has Abigail, in such a short time, shown me the fun part of getting to know a woman and then falling into bed with her? Rather than just one night of chit-chat followed by pleasure. I had to put effort with her and enjoyed it in the end.
I decide to finish on a friendly and neutral stance, but he finishes for me.
“Playboy, aye?” He chuckles and raises his eyebrows up and down.
Fuck, exactly what I didn’t want to say.
“We will not use that title.” I remind him with a playful tsk. “So, what did you want to ask?”
The guy nods and says, “Well, I really want to tell you that your book is awesome and reassured my actions. I’ve actually come from Sydney to see you specifically!” Then he shuffles a little and adds, “I also wanted to ask, how did you find out you didn’t want to be monogamous anymore? Like, no one wakes up thinking this way, surely. I enjoy myself, don’t get me wrong, but did you ever want to settle down or tire of being alone? I’m feeling like that, but admire how you go on, especially since you’re so much older than me.”
What the fuck?
My mind jumps straight at the age comment, and I chuckle, though I really want to snap at this douche. I’m only thirty-four! And his question about promiscuity having an expiry date? What sort of question is that?
Images of my flirting with Abigail, trying to woo her… even the unexpected time when she left me naked and alone in bed, flash through my mind.
Ihad to chase Abigail, which was entertaining. Annoying her and breaking through that barrier of hers was a fun and refreshing change for me. I had to put effort into getting Abigail to… well, like me. Everything that happened amounted to great foreplay and sex. It was a roller coaster of sensations, but so worth it.
I think I miss her. Fuck.
“I asked too much, sorry,” he says instantly, his previous expression now dim, as if he’s worried that questioning upset me.
I clear my throat and respond. “Truth be told, I don’t think there is an expiry date, but likely when you feel you want more. That ‘more’ is from only one person. Look, all I can say is that you should be safe and think about your choices, not jump into bed because I did.” He nods and smiles, thanking me for answering him. I assume he would follow me into the room, but he doesn’t. Instead, he rushes to meet a group of guys huddling around the foyer. A chuckle leaves my throat as I shout over his direction, “And I’m not old!”
