Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 114058 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114058 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
But he was already gone.
I listened to his truck pull away from the drive and knew I never wanted to hear that sound again.
Not the sound of him leaving us.
I wanted him back home for good.
I spent Monday morning throwing up, thanking the hangover for the fact I had a legitimate reason to avoid ladies who lunch.
Tonya called on me afterwards. She said hello to Nanna who was engrossed in Antiques Hunt, then ushered me into the kitchen and informed me with glee that both Debbie Gibson and Mandy Taylor were still in the queue.
“I’m telling you now, Jo,” she said. “He’s not fucking them. I don’t think he’s got any intention of fucking them.”
“Who knows,” I said, “he might just be booked up.”
“Yeah, right. Like fuck he is.” She rolled her eyes. “You two are hopeless. Why don’t you just ask him? No, tell him. Tell him to ditch this shit for good.”
I avoided the question, because in truth I’d been avoiding it myself for long enough. The fear of rejection was always there, festering under the surface, the memory of losing him the first time around embedded so heavily in my heart that I wasn’t sure I could go through that again. That was the truth of it. And it scared me.
The whole thing scared me. Icarus sailing way too close to Darren Trent’s sun for comfort.
I told her he’d nearly stayed last night and she clapped her hands. “I knew it!” she said. “It’s just a matter of time. Tell him to come home, tell him to ditch this stupid Bang Gang nonsense and bring his stuff back round.”
“And what if he won’t…”
“Why wouldn’t he?” she said. “It’s not like he’s busy fucking around every bloody night, you’re seeing too much of him for that.”
And that was another thing that was niggling me. We’d made no plans this week and I was still holding off on it. I was due any day, and although Darren really didn’t give a shit whether I was on my monthlies or not, I did. The thought of the washing alone was exhausting, and what if this was just sex? What if he turned his nose up when he found it wasn’t going to be rough and tumble all night long?
But he’d held me, last night, just held me.
“Lorraine collared me earlier,” she said. “Told me she’s having a party on Wednesday night. Some Halloween bash, women’s interests.”
The thought of Lorraine made me feel sicker than I was already. “Women’s interests?”
She nodded. “Sex toys and that kind of shit, I guess.” She grinned. “Better get that savings card of yours out, I’m sure there are plenty of experiences of a lifetime a couple of sex toys and Darren Trent could indulge you in.”
“I think I’ll give it a miss…” I said.
She pulled a face. “No way! We’re totally going! I’d love to see what dodgy shit Lorraine gets up to behind that Miss Prissy facade. I bet she’s pure filth.”
“Lorraine?” I laughed. “She was married for a million years, told me her ex-husband was a terrible lay.”
“Yeah, well, she’s been unmarried for a million years, too. That woman’s no stranger to a bit of bump and grind, I’m telling you.”
“Guess we’ll find out.”
She smiled. “You’ll come?”
I nodded. “Why not. I could do with building some bridges with Lorraine, things have been… tense…”
She raised an eyebrow. “Darren?”
“She doesn’t think I should be going anywhere near him, made it clear she thinks I’m being an absolute fucking idiot.”
She shrugged. “Gah, whatever. She’ll get over it.”
I hoped so. I really hoped so.
Tonya was waffling away about potential purchases when the hangover struck again. I raced to the kitchen sink and struggled to hold it back, retching up nothing and waving her to stay away.
“Shit,” I said. “I really can’t drink anymore. Seriously, that wine fucked me up. Pathetic, I know.”
Her face was unreadable, and that’s rarely the case with Tonya. “You hardly fucking drank any, Jo, not really. I polished off way more than you did, and I’m not throwing my guts up all over the place.”
I shrugged. “I guess I’m not so used to it.”
She was quiet for too long. “You and Trent have been careful, right?”
My cheeks burned, and my stomach did a horrible lurch that helped my queasiness none at all. “We… I have a period planner… I’ve been…”
“Jesus, Jodie! Condoms, yes or no?”
“Well, no… but I’m sure…”
“Christ All-fucking-mighty.” She held out her hand. “Where’s that pissing period planner, Jo. Have you looked at it?”
Oh the shame. No, no I hadn’t. Not for a week or so, but I was sure. I definitely remembered the dates.
I wasn’t such a reckless stupid idiot.
Except I was. I was and I knew it. Had no excuse for it. Nothing but a crazy hedonistic desire to have Darren come inside me.