dancing naked at the end of the bed. “Perhaps if he were older and had a few kids with another woman, I would follow it up. But we are at different stages of life, and I’m not holding him or myself back by pursuing something that will never go anywhere. Trust me; this is shitty for me, too, but he isn’t someone I want to date long term.”
Marley exhales heavily. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Fair enough.”
I take her hand in mine and smile sadly. “One weekend was enough, and you know what? It did the trick. I feel like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders, and for the first time in a long time, I’m kind of looking forward to what the future may bring. Thank you so much for making me go. Honestly it was so needed.”
We sit in silence for a moment, and her eyes come to mine. “Put me out of my misery; was it good?”
“Ridiculously so.” I smile. “He has a body built to please a woman. I didn’t know that virile men like him existed in real life.”
Marley tips her head back to the ceiling. “God, he’s so hot . . . I can’t stand it,” she moans.
“I know.” I sigh. “He really is. And fun, so fun. Honestly I’ve never been with a man who is so fun. I was in an orgasm high the entire weekend.”
Marley sips her drink, deep in thought. “Maybe he could just fuck me for a while to take his mind off you.”
I throw my head back and laugh out loud.
“I’m not joking, Claire. I need some fucking fun in my life,” she mutters dryly. “I’m having a fun famine. It’s depressing, actually.”
“Tristan is off limits.” I clink my glass with hers.
She rolls her eyes. “You’re such a spoilsport. He was totally into me.”
“I don’t doubt it.” I giggle. “Tristan Miles is into everybody.”
The drive home from work is long, but for once, it doesn’t seem it.
Every day this week I have daydreamed about Tristan Miles the entire way home.
Thinking of the funny things he said, the places he took me in Paris, him speaking French, the way he touched me. The way I touched him . . . our laughter.
God, so much to think about where he is concerned.
Since I saw him on Monday, I’ve had trouble focusing. I’m just grateful that we had that week together.
I wonder what kind of woman he will end up with. I smile sadly. Lucky bitch, whoever she is.
I think about my life and how blessed I am now that Mom and Dad have moved to be closer to us and help me with the kids.
Wade and I relocated here when he started Anderson Media. Neither of us had family close. And now because of work I can’t move. We are effectively here alone for good. It took a long while for Mom and Dad to realize that I was staying put. I think they were secretly hoping I would pack up and move back to Florida, but when they realized I wasn’t, they sold their Florida home and bought a house not far from mine.
I pull into the driveway and stare at the house. I exhale heavily. It’s extra messy today. It looks like a junkyard. Bikes and skateboards and shoes everywhere.
Frigging kids. Ugh.
I grab all of my things and walk into the house, and Fletcher comes marching out from the kitchen. “What is this?” he cries as he holds his hand up in the air.
“Huh?” I glance over at Harry and Patrick. They both look scared for their lives.
What in the world?
“What are these?” Fletcher bellows. I can see he has something in his hand, but I have no idea what.
“What are you talking about, Fletcher?” I frown.
“Whose jocks are these that I found in your suitcase?” he yells as he spins Tristan’s briefs on his finger.
My eyes widen.
Oh shit.
“Yes, Mom. Who left their damn underwear in your suitcase, and what exactly were you doing in fucking France?”
My mouth falls open. “Do not use that language with me, young man. How dare you? What were you doing looking through my suitcase? You’re grounded.”
“You’re grounded, Mom,” he cries. “What the hell were you doing in France?”
I narrow my eyes and go to snatch the underwear from him, and he snatches it away.
“Did you even go to France, or was that a lie too?”
My mouth falls open. “You self-centered little . . .” I stop myself before I call