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“Oh, then I have the perfect spot to show you!” As she said the words giddily, she waved me toward where she headed. I felt slightly flattered at the thought of her taking interest in me at all. I was also extremely self-conscious and socially awkward.
“Do you like classic poetry?” She stood before a narrow bookshelf with dusty hardbacks. All the greats were there; Hawthorne, Tolstoi, Byron and Poe. I marvelled at the works before me, and Juniper seemed pleased with her recommendation.
“I mean, they’re expensive. Collector’s items. But I come sit with them sometimes and read my witchy books.” She laughed, a cute yet nervous laugh, and I instantly felt at ease with her.
“Their beautiful. In good shape, too.” I ran my fingers over the bindings and filigrees. I resisted the urge to pull one out and smell the pages.
“It’s always nice to meet another person who appreciates books.” She bit her lip and swayed a little, hands clasped.
“Thanks, Juniper.” I smiled down at her again, catching her eye.
“You’re welcome, I’ll leave you be.” She hurried off down the narrow aisle of bookshelves. Her long dreads swaying with her hips and bumping her ass. I stared at the tomes again, letting myself drift back to the nights my mother would read me poetry and I would fall asleep clutching my brown bunny.
Happy memories that only books could proffer.
I was dreading getting married again.I don’t know why I agreed to marry Kostas.
My favourite part of any relationship was the beginning. The newness and all the possibilities it held. The compliments, gifts and the vulnerable feeling of sharing yourself with someone new. But I knew what marriage was, and it never held much for me. It never worked out, and I know it was because of my insatiable appetite for sex.
Kostas had kept up with me so far. But I could already feel him resisting the things I liked. Call boring sex vanilla, but that’s exactly what it was; not very colourful. And I liked every single colour.
When I was young, and my parents tried to marry me off; I would do something extreme to make sure the guy would never come back. Each five-course dinner, each time my parents tried to set me up with a man, it failed. A tantrum, an argument, or simply insulting them would work, too. What do you expect from a twenty-one-year-old? Did anyone want to settle down at twenty-one?
Avery made me realise I didn’t want a traditional relationship. He lived in Malibu, and he was loud, arrogant and so fucking sexy. Tall and tan from his days spent next to his parents’ pool, he mostly spent his time developing prototypes and power points for the next big app.
Entrepreneur? Or a spoiled rich boy? It didn’t really make a difference to me.
He always had coke, drove fast cars and got off on breaking the rules. It was the rush I was always looking for. Wild abandon and zero rules, I suddenly realised— this was how I wanted to live, this was what made me feel alive. We had multiple people and genders in our bed each night, everyone exploring each other’s bodies with tongue, lips, teeth.
He hosted regular networking parties at his parent’s mansion, important connections, guaranteed. Aspiring actor? Avery could get you connected to all the right people. You just needed to finesse them. Or maybe flirt with them. It didn’t matter. I wasn’t afraid to do whatever it took to be noticed. That was the hardest part of art and photography. Being seen.
With my portfolio tucked under my arm, I entered his exclusive party, hoping to be discovered. Instead, I fell in love and never left.
Just when I thought I found my perfect place, the asshole had to go an OD on me.
I wokeup in the hotel next to my brother with a hard dick and a pounding hangover.
Leo and I drank the day away yesterday, and now I was paying the price. I remembered nothing that happened. I just remember lots of laughing. Why we were so excited? I rubbed my forehead and looked down over my sprawling, naked body. My arms, chest and back were covered in tattoos, something my father would only shake his head at me about each time I came home with a new piece.
He always tried to over-compensate for what our mother lacked in parenting but failed miserably. He would end up yelling and punching walls until he punched so many that my mom left him. She said it was her or alcohol. I heard their argument through my bedroom wall.He still drinks. I heard the toilet flush, and Leo made an appearance, messy hair and bedroom eyes. I yawned and stretched, my rigid-length peeking out from the thin sheet.
Leo’s eyes landed square on the mushroom top, and I smiled. “How did you sleep? Is that cot comfortable?” I laughed, laying back and pulling the sheet up to my chest.
“Shut up, asshole. You’re always so cheerful in the morning, it’s annoying.” Leo scratched at his belly and looked at the small cot. I tried to ignore the fact that his cock was half-hard under his basketball shorts. Jeno’s scratched voice interrupted the naughty thought. I grabbed a pillow and hit him over the head. It bounced off him and crumpled into a heap at the foot of the bed.
“Terrible. I can’t wait to sleep in my bed again.” Leo flopped belly down on the mattress and closed his eyes.
“I have to get to work. Gotta be a good boy.” I sat up and adjusted myself, wondering why I was naked and how I was going to get to the bathroom without looking like a prancing peacock.
Only for a second, though.
I was always in the gym, if I didn’t have a job or a relationship; that’s where you would find me. I’m not sure if it was a good way to channel my energy or if I was just trying to quiet my thoughts; but I preferred constant activity. I stood, the sheet falling and displaying all nine inches of me, still standing at full attention. I stretched again and gave Leo my widest smile, holding his eyes. They darted down, but he resisted and met my eyes again. He grinned, and I knew where he would look when I walked to the bathroom. I closed the door behind me, pleased with my act of indecency.
Playing with fire always made me feel alive. How do you tell your best friend that you might have feelings for them? Was I even sure of that? What was love anyway? I doubt I knew yet. Maybe I just wanted to fuck him. It was possible. I turned on the shower and felt the water heat, aching to climb back into bed, and invite Leo.
But grass needed to be cut and bushes needed to be trimmed, so I would take my powerful arms to the mansions and hope for a calm day.
Dad saidthe house would be ready to move into within a week.
