And that’s the rub. How could the sex make me levitate in pleasure if it was just a wham, bam, thank you, ma’am?
Seeing as how he didn’t call me, I guess we’ll never know.
But the nail in the coffin came yesterday afternoon when I saw him and Vanessa seated in the corner of the Rise ’N’ Grind Coffee House, looking as cozy as could be. Chitchatting and smiling. Blissfully unaware that I was plotting to slash their tires.
I didn’t, of course—I’m not a psycho—and I only let myself fantasize about that for a few hours before I went to the gym and worked out until I could barely move.
If there’s an upshot to being incensed, it’s how much energy it’s given me to work out and repair my house. I’m trying to get as much done as I can before my new internship starts. I’m not sure how I’ll juggle everything, but at least being busy might keep my mind off that douchebag.
The weather has gotten cold again, so I’ve given up on my plan to weed my yard. Hopefully I won’t get another notice from the city about it. Apparently, some of my neighbors are less than pleased with the state of my property. But seeing how the yard is covered in frost, there’s nothing I can do about it now.
And since I can’t afford to prime and paint the exterior of the house, which is dependent on the porch I don’t have the funds to repair, I have to settle for fixing what I can.
Thus the floors.
In the weeks following the wedding, I don’t hear from Michael, but you know who does call? Greg.
17
OLLY
Three weeks, fifty-seven texts, and a dozen calls later, I’m over it. Magnolia obviously has a bug up her ass and no amount of groveling will change that.
By the time I got back from the spring break I spent cleaning up my grandfather’s vomit, I had second thoughts about standing under Maggie’s window and shouting apologies.
Because what could she really be pissed about? I told her shit with Vanessa was over, and I meant it. Instead of having dinner with her father, I went to talk to him during his office hours.
I ran into Vanessa when I got back from Heartland and explained, again, that we were only friends. She said she understood, but still wanted to hang out. Which… Now I’m wondering, why not? Since Maggie has all but told me to fuck off.
Was Maggie mad I didn’t tell Sebastian I’d had her on all fours and railed her over the side of the bed? Upset I didn’t run over and bang on her door moments after having my world fall out from under me with news about Coach Nicholson?
I don’t pretend to understand women on a good day, and Magnolia Morales has me at a total loss. Considering what we did that night, couldn’t she do me the courtesy of returning one of my calls?
After wondering if Sebastian had tried to sabotage me and deliberately give me the wrong number, I reconsidered. He’s been super-chill. When he gets upset about his siblings, his composure is the first thing to go. At the end of the day, I don’t think he’d be underhanded like that.
I’m not sure how I’ll handle running into Maggie. I keep expecting to see her at Ben and Sienna’s, but Sienna told me Maggie got an internship and can’t babysit anymore. I wonder if that’s her way to further avoid me.
Damn, I’ve never been ghosted before. Can’t say it’s a pleasant feeling.
“Chill, dude,” Johnny says from the chin-up bar next to me. “You go any harder on those weights, you’re gonna hurt something.”
With a grunt, I drop the dumbbells.
“What am I missing?” I ask myself. “What could she possibly be that upset about?”
“Jesus H. Christ. Are you still hung up on Magnolia? Bro, grow a pair. She’s not interested. She got what she wanted.” He waves at my crotch, which makes me want to punch him in the face. Because that’s not like Maggie at all. “And she moved on. In my own way, I admire her ability to not get attached.” Pointing at his phone, he smirks. “Would it be okay if I called her?”
I clench my fist. “Over my dead body.”
The asshole chuckles. “Just kidding. I’d never do you dirty like that.”
An hour later, I’m on my way home when I can’t fucking stand it any longer. I haven’t a clue what I’ll say to Magnolia if she picks up, but I want to try one last time.
I pull over to the side of the road and, with my heart in my throat, dial her name.
Four rings later, someone picks up.
“Maggie, don’t hang up. Please hear me out.”
