Scandalous Scotsman - M.J. Fields Page 0,5
It was a professional football player-sized hit to my self-esteem. My boyfriend, turned husband, cheated on me with my then best friend, so that attention become addicting.
As Tonya has pointed out, I’m not alone. Honest hearts often believe everyone else’s hearts beat the same truths. Tender hearts beat to shit sometimes seek a soft place to rest.
A hello beautiful to a cracked ego is like aloe to the soul. A goodnight, sexy replaces the peck on the cheek by a lover, or the body that warmed your bed begins snoring so loud you legit have to nearly smother yourself with a pillow just to fall asleep. It gives you the false sense of not being alone and less lonely in the uncharted territory of singles-ville. An afternoon I can’t wait to meet you causes a smile to brighten your face. A you have the most beautiful eyes brings back the sparkle you have long missed.
I had no idea what the hell I was doing, but I learned quickly … well, sort of.
“Residual effects,” I say, peering in the rearview mirror.
“How are we going to keep you busy and off that app for the rest of the summer?”
Like most psychologists, Tonya thinks once an addict, always an addict. However, I was never really addicted. The swiping was more a boredom buster. Then the conversation, and yeah, well, the pics and the videos caught my curiosity until they didn’t.
I tell her the entire story, suspicions and all, about the fine doctor, and she bursts out laughing at my embarrassment.
“You’re an asshole.” I try to be stern, but I can’t help laughing, too.
And laughter truly is the best medicine.
Tuesday
“Is it this guy?” Tonya asks, holding up my phone, app open.
After placing the last of the rolled-up poster in the cardboard container, I look over my shoulder as she sits in my desk chair, feet on my desk, showing me approximately the one hundredth picture from the account she reopened to “research” the possibility of Dr. Dirty being one of the dick pic peddlers.
The picture is of a man, whose towel is strategically placed to showcase his abs and V.
“I think you have an addiction.” I roll my eyes and turn back to tackle the task at hand.
She laughs. “Me? There are ninety-nine plus likes—”
“Don’t touch those, or it’ll charge my account, and I will”— I turn and point a magic wand at her— “turn you into an even crazier cat lady.”
“Hey.” She feigns hurt then smiles. “I resemble that remark.”
“How about you resemble my best friend, set down the phone, and help me finish this up?”
Wednesday
After two days, we are finally finished.
Standing outside my classroom door, number 234, the unwelcome feeling of loss comes over me.
Sensing my anxiety, Tonya puts her hand on mine. “It’ll all be back together soon.”
I force a smile and nod.
“Now, you have an appointment—”
I laugh. “Oh, no, I don’t.”
“You have to—”
“I cancelled it. It’s a fracture that will heal. A bruised butt that will feel better soon. I don’t need a boot.”
Closing the door behind me, I exhale slowly. In a world full of worries and a million reasons to be anxious, I have found respite in the moments spent inside of room 234, a place where magic truly happens.
Still sensing my anxiety, and with good cause, since she’s seen it at its worst, causes her further worry. “You could come spend the night with me. Let me make you dinner.”
Next week will be busy getting everything back together. Until then, I already know what I will busy myself with.
“I have plans.” I wag my eyebrows.
She rolls her eyes. “Jamie?”
“Do you even have to ask?”
“If you ever raise a hand to me again, Jamie Fraser, I will cut your heart out and have it for breakfast. Do you understand me?” I repeat the words from my second favorite sexy scene in the entire Outlander series as I flick on my adult magic wand and hold it against the thin material of my sleep shorts.
“Holy shit,” I gasp, quickly pulling it away.
In my defense, it’s been months since I’ve felt the need to release. I blame Dr. Nail-It-or-Screw-It for reminding me that I’ve spent that long without a Jamie fix.
I blindly hit the button, turning the speed down so I can ease into it, while simultaneously rewinding the scene.
A knock on the door has me jumping off the couch, popcorn, magic wand, and the tumbler— aka, adult sippy cup, full of wine— goes flying.
Don’t judge. It’s my kind of