The first thing I do is to change the sheets because it's a laundry day, but once I step into the bedroom, I instantly change my mind—the scent of Justin and our… lovemaking? Fucking? Is still in the air. I don't know if it will ever happen again, so I quickly fix the sheets and pull the throw on top of my comforter. My little guilty pleasure, I want to bask in his smell one more night. Just one more. And screw everyone who thinks it’s gross.
Then I dust, mop the floors, and collect laundry in the baskets to take to the laundromat later. We have one not far from the diner, so I can throw it in tomorrow morning and run to take it out a couple of hours later. That's why I like small towns—everything is within walking distance.
I take a shower and get ready. I blow dry my hair (blow dry my hair on my day off, mind you), put light makeup on (again, on a day off, because I do it every time, I promise), and get dressed. I don't know why I decide to dress sexy today.Yep, I totally don’t know why. I pull on my flowy, red, sleeveless sundress that goes down to my knees and accentuates my tattoos. Others might find them weird, but Justin seems to find them intriguing, seeing as he licked almost every single one of them yesterday, so I feel encouraged to show them off and possibly even get more of them. Yeah, I'm just looking for an excuse to get a new tattoo; I still have a lot of space left.
I’m about to go to change into another outfit because I feel insecure dressing for him when the sound of the engine drifts through my trailer. I peek outside—Justin's truck is there. I grab a sweater (you never know in Maine) and run outside. I guess that's my ride to town, so I climb into the passenger side.
"Hi," I say in a neutral voice once I plant my ass on the seat—I don't know where we stand and how should I act for two reasons: one, I don't know what Justin thinks, and two, I have no idea what I think.
“Hey, baby.” He says as he leans toward me and pulls me closer to him by my shoulders. My eyes widen, and my mouth opens in surprise. Justin uses this moment to slam his lips on mine. The kiss is fast, without tongue, but it’s hot and wet. Then he leans back on his seat, looking no less surprised than I am, and grabs the wheel. “Where to?”
“I—” I clear my throat, “I need to go to the diner.”
He throws me a confused look. "Why? I thought it was your day off."
"I need to, hmm, meet with Archie," I answer, dreading his reaction.
Justin squeezes the wheel until his knuckles turn white, and I'm sure there is not a drop of blood left in them. "The fuck do you need to meet him for?"
"Because I have things to discuss with him." I try to remain calm, but it's hard. Boy, is it hard.
“You don’t have anything to discuss with him.” He grunts through gritted teeth, squeezing the wheel even harder, and I fear he will break the poor thing and leave us stranded here with no means to get out.Would that be so bad, though?
“And who are you to tell me with who and what I can discuss?" He's quiet, so I add: "Hmm?"
“I told you, you are mine.” He growls.
“Your what?” He doesn’t respond. “Your what, Justin?” The only sound in the car is his clenching jaw. “That’s what I thought. Can you drive me to the diner, please?”
The whole way to the diner, a thick silence looms over us. Justin's simmering, and I'm pissed. I didn't wait twenty-five years for my V card to be given away to a barbaric asshole with no boundaries.Didn't we, though?The submissive part of me whispers tenderly into my ear while the demoness on my shoulder sharpens a knife with an evil smirk. The latter still remembers how he handled figuring out I was a virgin, when he plunged into my fortress, and that part may or may not want to chop his balls off. But the other part is very happy with the actions that happened after. Both parts are, to be honest. And his kisses after. And all his “baby’s." But when I actually asked him the question, nothing happened, as I expected. A tiger doesn't change its stripes.
And besides that, it's not like I'd run head-first into forgiving him for treating me like shit. I understand his motive, I do, but it doesn't change the fact that he and his brother made my life miserable. I can't imagine forgetting him calling me "trailer trash" every time he touches me, not remembering him looking at me like I'm the dirt under his Timberlands, or causing me pain with that fucking hot coffee on purpose.
I wonder if Alicia knows about what went down that night.
Justin parks the truck in front of the diner and gets out.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Getting lunch. What does it look like?”
“Justin.” I walk around the car and stand in front of him. “Stop. You are being unreasonable. And quite frankly, I have no idea what you’re even doing. What do you want, honestly?”
He watches my face, his jaw set. “I just want lunch. Is that something I can do in this fine establishment?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose in annoyance. "Fine. But don't come to me complaining if Marina poisons you." I turn and walk inside, where Archie is already waiting for me at the best seat in the house, the booth in the corner. And also the most private. I briefly glance back and see that Justin takes the bar seat and grabs the menu. He hasn't been here for years besides grabbing that coffee and picking Freya up once, so he doesn't know our funny menu that I put together myself.
I take a deep breath, erasing Justin from my memory just for the next few minutes, and walk to Archie, who's smiling like a cat who just ate the canary. He looks just like a bad-boy pirate with his tats, dark eyes, and tossed hair that I can't help but smile in return.
JUSTIN
I sit at the bar and try to focus on the menu, but my eyes drift to Kayla and that sleazy fucker. I guess our morning chat didn’t bring any results. No worries, I’ll repeat it later. It’s not like I came off like an asshole, asking him nicely not to see her again. I was very reasonable.
Is he wearing eyeliner? Yes, the fucker is wearing eyeliner. I think? Who does that? He has a piercing in his ear, tattoos all over the body; he fuckin' matches her.
Kayla says something, leaning closer to him. He smiles and gives her a kiss on the cheek. If it had been on the lips, his hands would be broken by now.
I think I accidentally growl, because Marina, a woman I genuinely fear (she was one of the reasons I never tormented Kayla here), laughs and walks toward me. "What do you need?"
