21. Lorelei

21

LORELEI

I lie on a sun lounger, sipping on fresh orange juice as my best friend flushes from head to toe at whatever her husband is saying to her on the other end of the phone.

My nose wrinkles as I study her. She's wearing a red bikini that makes her pregnant body look incredible. It's really no wonder her husband is clearly whispering all kinds of freaky things in her ear right now.

"Is that a promise?" she purrs back.

The jealousy rushing around my veins only increases.

After giggling like a schoolgirl, she finally hangs up.

"What?" she asks when I groan loudly.

"I need to get laid," I complain, making her laugh.I might have meant what I said the other night about not wanting a hook-up but I still have needs.

"It hasn't been that long. I'm sure you've had longer dry spells," she points out, quirking a brow.

"Oh, that's rich, T. I remember all too well you complaining if more than a week had passed since you saw some action."

Her smile turns wicked. "Don't have that problem anymore.'

"So I just heard."

Her eyes widen. "You heard that?"

"Well, no. But I got the gist. And I already know your husband is as freaky as you are. Oh, wipe that satisfied smile from your face, Tatum Callahan," I tease.

"So, go and get laid. It's not like you don't have options," she says, taking me right back to our conversation Thursday night.

"I know, I just…"

"Do not tell me that you're still yearning for Matt."

"Oh hell no. I am not going there again. We're done. Over. Finished."

Sensing that I've got more to say on the subject, Tatum turns in my direction and studies me closely.

"What happened?" she asks, a deep frown appearing, twisting up her beautiful face.

"What? How…How do you know something happened?"

"I can read you, Lor. I noticed something was off with you from the second you climbed into the car earlier. I was just hoping that you'd spit it out before I had to drag it out of you."

I blow out a long breath.

"He turned up at the apartment last night."

"What?" Tate gasps. "What did he say?"

"Tried apologizing again. Told me that he missed me."

"Ugh, what a fucking asshole. I hope you slammed the door in his assholey face."

I bite down on my tongue to stop any more of last night's events from erupting.

Once I'm confident I'm not going to say more than I'd like, I force out a simple, "Yep. Deadlocked it too. Hopefully, that'll be the end of it."

"You really believe that?" Tate asks with a raised brow.

"No, not really," I mutter under my breath.

"Stick to your guns, Lor. Do not let that lying prick back into your life. You are worth so much more than him."

"I know." And I do know. No matter how hard he tries, I'm not going backward.

Look to the future, always.

Leave mistakes in the past, where they belong.

The hardness of her glare increases.

"I mean it. We're finished. He is nothing to me."

Pain slices through my chest as I say the words. I mean them, I do, but it still hurts. For a while there, I really thought he was the one I'd been looking for.

"You'll find him, Lor," Tate says, reaching out to squeeze my hand in support.

"I know," I whisper, although I feel more doubtful than I think I ever have.

Maybe he isn't out there.

"I do agree with one thing, though. You need to get laid, and you just need the right opportunity to fall in your lap."

Ignoring the suspicious look in her eyes I mutter, "We'll see. What time are our next treatments?"

"Massages in thirty minutes."

"Perfect," I sigh, stretching myself out on my lounger.

One benefit of my best friend being married to Kingston Callahan? Easy access to one of the best spas in the city.

" I needed that," Tate sighs happily as we emerge from the spa a few hours later, and I can't help but agree.

I have fresh nails, a newly waxed…well, everything, my muscles are loose, my face is glowing, and my troubles are far away. Okay, that last one might be wishful thinking.

"Cocktails, then we can go," she instructs before hooking her arm through mine and dragging me toward the bar. "One porn star martini," she says, ordering my favorite without bothering to ask. "And a virgin mojito, please."

We find ourselves at a seat by the window and continue our previous conversation, although it's cut short a few minutes later.

"Lorelei?" a deep voice asks a beat before a shadow falls over me.

Looking over my shoulder, I have to do a double take.

"Holy shit, Ryder," I say, hopping to my feet so I can hug him.

But the second his familiar scent hits my nose, so does reality.

The moment he releases me, I turn toward my best friend and narrow my eyes.

She smiles innocently at me. But I know. I know exactly what she's done.

"Tate, it's good to see you," Ryder says.

"You too. Long time, no see."

"What are you doing here?" I ask as he drags a chair over.

"I've just come from meeting a client," he explains, although it doesn't actually answer my question.

"Excuse me, I'm just going to the bathroom. Babies and bladders don't mix," Tate says, just in case Ryder didn't notice her belly.

"Oh, shit. I heard you were expecting. Congratulations."

"Thank you," she says before walking away.

"So, how have you been? I was actually thinking about messaging you the other week."

So, he's single again then.

"Yeah, I'm good. Just started a new job so things are a little crazy."

"It's congratulations all around then. So where are you working now?"

Tate and I met Ryder at college. We all hit it off easily. He was easygoing, fun-loving, everything we were.

The two of us have had some very, very good times together. And sitting here looking at him now, I know why. He's hot. A total player who's never going to settle down—a little like someone else who shall not be named—but he's…easy. He doesn't take life too seriously, and despite the fact he's hot as hell, he doesn't flaunt it. He just…loves life. And quite honestly, Tatum might just be onto something, because this is a little bit of what I need right about now.

"I'm working at Callahan Enterprises," I say honestly, knowing that Ryder isn't going to judge like many will.

Instead, he just grins. "That's awesome. That's what you always wanted, right?"

"Yeah," I muse, impressed that he remembers. Hell knows most men wouldn't.

"Shit," he curses as he glances at his watch. "I've gotta head out. But I'll message you, yeah? We should hang out. It's been too long."

A genuine smile pulls at the corners of my lips.

"Yeah," I muse. "We should."

Familiar tingles spread through my body as I think about the kind of hanging out that Ryder and I usually do. The kinky kind that never fails to scratch an itch.

"Sweet. Speak soon, yeah?"

After pressing a quick, chaste kiss to my cheek, he's gone almost as fast as he arrived, leaving me with nothing but the image of his hard ass in his tight suit pants as a parting gift.

"Where's Ryder gone?" Tatum asks when she finally returns from the bathroom.

"Oh, you've finished hiding?" I tease.

"What? I needed to pee."

"Did you?" I snark, raising a brow in question.

"I did. So…how was he? Been a while, huh?"

"You are so fucking transparent."

She stares at me, her lips twitching with amusement.

She can't lie for shit. Especially not to me. I know her too well.

"Fine. Fine. He popped up on my Facebook feed and…well…I thought he might be of some use to you."

"You think he's going to fuck all my problems away, like they don't exist."

"Fucking hell, if he's that magical, I might have a go myself," she teases.

"Oh yeah, like you'd ever stray from King's magic dick," I deadpan.

She gets this far-off dreamy look in her eye.

"Please, stop thinking about his dick. We're in public."

She laughs before her expression turns serious.

"I swear, Lor, since I've been pregnant, it's actually got better."

"Fucking hell."

"I mean it. Sex before was amazing. But now, the extra hormones or something...Fuck. It's beyond incredible. I really do recommend it."

"Umm…hard pass for me, but thanks for the advice."

I might be interested in finding my Mr. Right, but kids…that's a whole other issue for me. A therapist might say it has something to do with my own childhood, and do you know what? They'd probably be right.

"Oh, you say that now. One day, everything will change."

"We'll see," I mutter, lifting my drink to my lips as Tatum checks her cell.

"Mr. Perfect Dick want to know where his baby mamma is?"

"Yep," she agrees happily. "I should probably take you home so I can go enjoy him. It's been a few hours."

"Whore," I cough.

"Loud and proud, baby. Loud and proud."

I t's Saturday night and I'm…staring at a spreadsheet.

Is this really what my life has become?

I should put work and Kian freaking Callahan behind me for the weekend. It's bad enough that he took my Friday night.

But I can't. And anyway, it's not like I've got anything better to do.

My head is spinning with numbers and formulae when my watch buzzes.

I glance down and immediately burst out laughing.

Ryde my dick: It was good to see you today.

Reaching for my cell, I open our conversation, noting just how long has passed since his stupid contact name has popped up on my screen.

I remember the morning he did it. I was hungover as hell, and every inch of my body hurt. Most of it courtesy of him and the lack of sleep we'd had the night before.

I'd never had sex like it. It was wild, and I couldn't help but gaze at him in wonder that next morning. The things the man could do with my body.

Shit. It had happened to me, and yet I still struggled to understand it.

Before he left that next morning, he found my cell on the floor in the middle of my small dorm room and put his number into it.

I had no idea what he'd called himself until later that day when he messaged me to let me know how much fun he'd had.

Ryde my dick.

What a fucking idiot.

But just like a few moments ago, that name has made me laugh every time it's popped up on my screen over the years. And despite how it might sound, they haven't always been booty call messages. We have hung out with clothes on as well. Once or twice…

I stare at the screen, trying to come up with a reply that sets the right tone.

Despite Tate's meddling, do I really want to fall back into old habits with Ryder?

Of course, my body screams yes. Yes, we fucking do.

But my head…that's a little more reluctant.

Lori: It was good to see you too.

I hit send before I ask a question that could be misconstrued.

Ryde my dick: Any good plans for the evening?

Well, there goes my good intentions.

Lori: Quiet night in. Been a long week.

Ryde my dick: That's boring. I'm heading out with the boys later. You should join.

I can't lie, there is a part of me that wants to. I want to put on one of my dresses, do my hair and makeup, and dance the night away.

But also…

Lori: Maybe another time. I hope you have a good night. Don't do anything I wouldn't do…

Ryde my dick: That sounds like a challenge.

Lori: Maybe it is. You can tell me all about it tomorrow.

Ryde my dick: Maybe I'll be too busy wishing I was spending the night with you. You know, for old times' sake.

Lori: Who says I'm single?

Ryde my dick: Tatum.

"Of fucking course she did."

Lori: She's meddling. Ignore her.

Ryde my dick: I quite like her meddling, if I'm being honest.

Lori: Of course you do. You always were looking for trouble.

Ryde my dick: Takes one to know one.

Ryde my dick: So, what are you really doing tonight that's more important than meeting me?

Lori: Netflix and spreadsheets.

Ryde my dick: Wow, I'm really getting blown off for the good stuff here…

And just like that, I find myself sucked back in by arguably the best ride of my life.

I mean, what's the harm? My only other option right now is my ex, and there is no fucking way I'm going back there.