Bad Ideas

24

Chapter 24

Cynthia

Somewhere between Angie and my cigarette laid the answer to all my life's problems. Shayla. Shayla was a life problem. It was like all my old feelings came back, smacking me in the chest like a runaway Mack truck on nos.

I couldn't speak after that. I managed to go through the routine of eating and working. I managed to go home and FaceTime Ivy. But it was in the shower when I started crying and hyperventilating. I wasn't okay with her coming back and acting like everything was normal. I wasn't okay with myself asking her out like nothing happened.

I slid my black frame glasses on my face, pulled my black hair into a bun on top of my head. What to wear? I didn't want to look desperate. I wanted to look homey. I grabbed my black Jamestown sweatshirt and pulled on some loose Walmart sweatpants that were gray. I pushed my feet into my tan Ugg's and looked at myself in the mirror.

I looked....positively unfuckable. Just like I wanted to look. Sweet. I grabbed my smokes and keys and headed out of my apartment. I actually lived in my dad's old place above the restaurant and bar. He was downstairs cleaning and whistled at me.

"Where are you going in your pj's?" He asked me with a scowl.

"To yell at someone. I'll be back in a little while."

"Whatever's, clever."

I rolled my eyes. "You're such a weird dad."

He laughed and waved me on.

****

I parked my car and thought about just turning around. I shouldn't be here. I should just leave and go somewhere else. I looked at her nice big house Logan gave her and wondered if I could ever live here with her.

I hit myself in the face. "No. No, that is not why you are here." I took a deep breath and marched to her front door with a big knock on my fisted knuckles. I waited for her to open up before screaming.

"Shay-" I said her name then paused.

Dear God she was in a white long t-shirt nightgown that was old and had holes all over it. It said Army across it and it was see-through. Fuck me. I pushed her in and slammed the door behind me. Anyone on the street could have seen her. That bothered me.

"What are you doing here?"

She was brushing her hair that was wet, she turned around to walk into the kitchen and I could have died a happy woman right then and there. Her ass was beautiful in the see-through garment with its rounded edges. I bit my lip and reminded myself why I was here.

"I....I can't go on that date tomorrow night." I managed to say without messing up one word.

She walked back into the foyer wearing a black fuzzy robe. "Why not? Did you make plans with someone else and forget?"

"Yeah, with myself. The plan is to stay the fuck away from you!" I yelled, slightly upset with her nonchalant ways.

I saw her jaw clench, her fingers grasped at the sides of her robe. "Why?"

"Because you're just going to leave again. Last time you blamed it on age. This time it'll be something different. Either way. I don't want to find out."

She snorted. "That isn't fair. I left for you."

"You left because you are a coward."

I should have expected it. Knowing her. Knowing how agitated I could make her. I should have ran. Yet, one minute I was standing by her front door alone, the next her robe clad body was plastered against mine, pushing me against the front door. Her hands were beside my head, a knee between my thighs, pressing me up and onto my tippy toes. I pushed on her chest, she pushed into my hands. I was trapped within the shell of her and her smell, she smelt like vanilla and men's shampoo.