along with the dirty talk. Since I can’t stay up late, I head to bed before midnight. As I’m about to set my phone on the cradle so it can charge, I text Beacon.
G: Happy New Year, Beac!
Beac: Same, G.
I stare at the phone, waiting for more. He usually sends me a picture, a gif, or an emoji. This time nothing follows. He might be the other reason why I’m lost. Not having him around since last June has been strange. We don’t go more than a week or two without seeing each other. It’s been almost eight months of sporadic encounters.
Usually, he finds a way to visit me wherever I’m at, or I’m the one following the band like a groupie. It hasn’t been easy to find time to visit him in Baker’s Creek. His father screwed my father’s company in many ways. Dad and his partners had to rework the entire plan to infiltrate a human trafficking cell in Europe because my team is grounded.
Also, I had to work undercover for Seth. It took a lot of self-control not to kill the people who work at Bryant, LLP. Selfish pricks. They take children away from their parents so they can fulfill the dreams of wealthy couples who’ll pay a lot of money to have a family. Denver wasn’t a great place to try to date, either.
Sighing, I open the notes app on my phone and start making a list.
New Year, New Guy, Better Sex, Zero Inhibitions—New Grace.
Hmm…that’s a terrible name. Okay, I’ll work on that later.
Learn to flirt.
Learn to kiss well.
Learn to talk dirty.
Push away your inhibitions and stop being an introvert.
Find your G-spot (I mean, how can I expect a guy to know where it is if I don’t even know it myself.)
Find good sex toys. According to Today’s Beauty magazine, I should masturbate at least four times a week.
Take fish oil. It helps the small vessels in the clit.
Read erotica.
Figure out what you want in a man.
When I get to number nine, it becomes clear that I need help. I hate to accept it, but Beacon was right. He’s the best candidate to walk me through at least the first eight points. Once I know more about myself and who I’d like to date, I can make a new list.
Finding the guy.
Since Beacon is taking the day off from life, I just send him a text. Hopefully, once he’s back in the living world, we can discuss my plan.
Am I irrational?
No, this is the best way to deal with my problem. If I don’t do it now, then when?
Now or never, right?
Chapter Eleven
Beacon
Well, here it is. The new year.
We’re supposed to celebrate new beginnings. People around the world party, make resolutions, and feel like their lives are going to get better.
Personally, January is the crappiest month of the year. I am drowning in fucking sorrow. I usually don’t drink. When I do, I don’t go overboard. Except on New Year’s Day.
That’s when I take the day off from being responsible and, as Grace puts it, drink myself stupid.
At the beginning of each year, instead of feeling inspired, I feel raw. Everything inside of me hurts. My soul bleeds.
My grandfather died on New Year’s Day when I was nineteen. A year and ten days later, my grandmother joined him. Many people see that as romantic. There are a few articles about one following the other right behind. One article read, “Mrs. Fitzpatrick couldn’t live without her soul mate and joined him in the afterlife.”
It’s not fucking romantic. My grandfather had fucking cancer. Grandma didn’t join him because they’re soul mates. She died of heart failure. Media outlets and the entertainment industry romanticize the pain of others in order to sell.
Every year, the reminder that I’m alone constricts my lungs and I’m unable to breathe.
This year is no different, or maybe it is worse. I’m surrounded by my brothers. The ones who ignored me for years. None of them cared to come to my grandfather’s funeral.
Those are the same ones who next November will send me packing back to Seattle and won’t speak to me until one of us dies—if I’m lucky.
They can say all the shit they want, but I know the end result. Each one has their own life. I’m not a part of theirs, and I’ll never be.
“Kid.” Pierce, one of my older brothers, leans against the door frame and stares at me. “What’s happening?”
I glare at him because no one is allowed to enter