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“Oh,” I say. “That’s very interesting.”
“Yes, it’s a fascinating topic and, well, my opinion on the matter is that there had been several secret meetings between Mexican President Luis Echeverría and Richard Nixon, and possibly Gerald Ford, but I’m still trying to retrieve some public records that were only recently made available.”
I stared for a minute trying to decide if I wanted to use the butter knife on him or myself.
“That’s very exciting,” I deadpan. I begin to plot out an immediate exit strategy.
“Excuse me,” I say standing. “I need to use the ladies room. Mother?”
“Yes, dear,” she replies and stands with me.
As we walk to the restrooms, I can’t help but think of Ethan again. He’s also a brilliant guy, but he always kept the minutiae and mundane work factoids to a bare minimum, especially over dinner. I wonder what he’s doing at this very moment? I hate that he decided to go back to his ex-wife, but maybe it was for the best.
I guess he had to make the right decision for Caden.
I can respect that parenting comes first but that doesn’t stop the feeling of being betrayed and hoodwinked. But, thinking now of all the blind dates my mother’s undoubtedly calendared, I’m starting to wish I’d stayed in Hawaii.
“I just started," I tell my mom once we have privacy, "I’m having horrible cramps. I need to go home.”
“You’re being melodramatic,” my new task master says, not falling for the ruse one second. “You’ll freshen up and join us. Do not embarrass me, Rylie.”
“Shit, mom,” I say without thinking, “I wouldn’t mind if you’d set me up with some frat boys who just wanted to drink, but this is torturous.”
At that very moment, Mrs. Johnson walks into the ladies room. Her face turns beet and she pretends like she didn’t hear my complaining.
“Is everything okay?” she asks.
“Oh, yes dear,” my mother says matter-of-factly. “It’s just jetlag and all the time changes. She’ll be okay in a jiffy. Perhaps we’ll order a round of Irish coffee and she’ll perk right up, won’t you dear?”
I think of the last time I had that particular after-dessert dessert and a dreamy smile appears as I recall Ethan feeding me whipped cream.
“Now, there’s a trooper,” my mother says seeing my bliss and completely freaking mis-reading it.
If she only knew.
By the time the drinks are served, I’m depressed again. I try my best to appear attentive and friendly, but after fifteen more minutes listening to Wayne explain how the options market in Chicago caused a minor panic in Mexico City I was ready to scream or order a double shot of tequila. I faked interest for the rest of the evening and somehow managed to noncommit to a dinner engagement with Wayne Johnson at some further mutually agreeable time and date.
A time which for me, could never arrive in a billion eternities.
Finally safe at home, showered and PJ-ed, I slide into bed with a sigh of relief. I flip open my phone and scroll through my texts with Ethan, back at the time we were full of – no don’t think of that four-letter word. You do not love him. You Cannot. I go to swipe closed and – shit. I’m so exhausted I accidentally sent an old text to Ethan.
Good night
Okay that’s all – could have been worse.
A reply pings back instantly
Good night, baby. I miss you so much. We need to talk
Blooper. That was an accident. I don’t want to talk
He immediately sent me another reply but I ignored it.
Any chance of sleep vanishes. My mind returns to the day we hiked to the waterfall. I can almost feel his hands on my body and his mouth on my lips. I scroll through our encounter again, the way he kissed my pussy, they way he fucked me. Pure alpha male. I imagine him grabbing my waist and turning me around against the tree. Driving his throbbing cock into my soft wetness from behind. I picture taking his shaft into my mouth and cupping his balls in my hand.
I toss around, trying to fall asleep by concentrating on nothing at all, but my pussy is aching.
Ethan’s voice echoes in my mind. “Touch yourself. I want to watch you come.”
Damn him all to hell.
He made his decision and now I’m here in Boston, with my mother. I will stop thinking about Ethan, or any other man, and work on passing the bar exam. Then I’ll become a proper attorney and work sixty hours a week and forget about gorgeous pecs, firm asses, strong biceps, and massive, well-veined, bulging cocks. I don’t need to be fucked silly by an alpha male with all the right attachments. I have a friendly bunny, after all, and they never leave you to go back to their exes.
