A half hour ago she'd gone by one of her regular haunts and picked up not just one guy, but two. She was just so fucking bored.
Of course she was thrilled with the success of her clothing line, J Style. She loved spending time with her sister, Lily, and Lily's kids. And between her girlfriends and the guys she dated, Janica almost never sat home alone in front of the TV on a Saturday night.
Still, even great sex with a hot guy got old after a while. Particularly if it was sex with the wrong hot guy.
The problem was, so far they'd all been the wrong guy. She'd been dating since she was fourteen but she'd never been in love with any of her boyfriends. Not even close.
Maybe, she'd started to think, some people were hardwired to fall in love – like Lily who had fallen head-over-heels in love with Travis as kids - and some people weren't.
In any case, even if Janica was missing the love gene, she still needed to figure out what to do about tonight.
Lately she'd read a bunch of books with ménages. They seemed pretty kinky. Exciting. And for a second, when she'd let the guys know what she was up for, and they'd accepted, it had been a rush. But before they'd even made it out of the bar, the thrill had fizzled away.
Right now she didn't feel any more excited about what she was about to do with two hunks than she had about any of her previous lovers for the past year.
Sure, they'd probably make her come in some sort of really inventive three-way position. But so what? She could come just fine on her own.
Good thinking, Janica, she said to herself in a sarcastic voice. How in hell are you planning to get them to leave now?
“Hey, I know I suggested this three-way, but guess what? I was just kidding.”
Not only were the odds of them laughing damn low, any woman with half a brain could easily guess they weren't going to be too gung ho about leaving either.
Lately, she'd been grading her impulsive actions more and more, having these annoyed, silent conversations. Thankfully, she still felt great about her business, but on every other front—whether she was a good enough sister, a good enough friend, a good enough person, period—she wasn't at all sure.
For the first twenty-nine years of her life, she hadn't given a second thought to any of those things. She'd simply decided what she wanted and gone after it.
She hadn't wasted time on worry or regret, on trying to "act her age." She'd focused on squeezing every last ounce of joy out of life, on racking up exhilarating life experiences.
But something had changed this past year, as she'd rounded the corner toward thirty. No, not something.
Her.
She had changed. Out of the blue, she suddenly found herself lying in bed thinking about all the things she'd never wanted before. Real love. Someone to come home to at night. Someone to laugh with. Someone to plan with. Someone to share new things with.
Luke.
Damn it. Why couldn't she control her thoughts about him?
Twenty-five years ago it had started as a secret crush, a little girl spying on a big boy with a heart-melting smile. And it had turned into an obsession. A stupid, pathetic obsession that only got worse with every family event she went to.
Five years after Lily had married Luke's twin brother, Travis, Janica was still a little bit shocked by it all. She loved Lily more than anyone else on the planet and, yet, who would have thought that her shy, insecure older sister would have found true love first? Janica had always been the popular one, with all the friends, all the style, and all the confidence. But now Lily had a gorgeous husband who adored her while Janica was so cynical about men and ever falling in love that she'd actually invited two of them into her bed.
Beyond pissed at herself, she walked out from the kitchen with the beers. “Here.”
Instead of taking the bottles, the guys shot each other a look and started pulling their shirts out from their pants. Okay, so having a threesome probably wasn't going to suck, but no matter how she tried to spin it in her head, “not sucking” just wasn't a good enough reason for doing it.
Maybe if she were the heroine in a romance novel it would be okay. But this wasn't fantasy. This was real life.
Her life.
“You know what boys,” she began, “I don't think—”
She was cut off by the doorbell.
What the hell? Who could possibly be coming to see her at 1:30 in the morning?
Oh God, she immediately thought, something has happened to Lily or the kids.