Content warning: very strong language
November 2018
Leominster, MA, USA
I swear to the living Christ! If I didn't get shit done, no one would do it.
My in-laws always bitch and moan that I swear too much, I'm too direct, and I should shut up about personal crap. But ya wanna know the facts? So. Many. Problems. Could be solved simply by opening your fuckin' mouth and admitting the goddamn truth. How difficult is it, really?
Yeah, sure. I'm the one at the wrong end of the stick.
Right?--Wrong.
Conservatives are notorious for having major-league oak trees stuck up their asses for no good reason. Right when Team Sylvian gets back on track after eight years of horsing around, what the hell does Vee do?
She shoots Cupid dead in the ass!
Because she's too scared to fall in love again.
I love her to death, but seriously? Vee needs to get a fuckin' grip! Ditch that religious baggage you don't need anymore and get laid.
Like, right away!
Once Vee rings me on Skype and tells me what the hell she did with Ian? It's hotter than hell here! No lie, I'm starting to melt like a fuckin' candle.
Judging by her flushed cheeks, her breathlessness, and her glazed eyes, I think Vee liked it a crap-ton more than she wants to admit.
"No wonder why Ian waited so long for you," I exclaim. "I don't even swing that way and I'm considering it."
Vee gives me the look of death. "C'mon, Aria. I'm being serious."
"So am I!"
"What do I do now?" She cradles her forehead in her palm. "I had to hang up. Otherwise, I was gonna have phone sex with him right there and then."
"And that's bad because...?"
"Because we haven't seen each other in eight years," she says, incredulous. "No hug, no kiss, no heart-to-heart. Just raw phone sex."
"Still not seeing the need for DEFCON-2, sorry."
"Ugh! Of course you wouldn't."
"Hey, now!" My face falls. "The fuck does that mean?"
"I can't go near him until I'm divorced." She looks half-determined, half-crestfallen. "I can't trust myself around him. He gets me so worked up."
A little squee slips past my lips, earning me a stern glare from Vee.
"Sorry, I can't help it." It's like my heart's a boiling kettle that's gonna erupt with happiness. "God, I've wanted there to be fireworks for so long."
"You're not listening."
"Yeah, no...you're right. I'm not." After clearing my throat, I plaster the most serious look I can conjure, which is not convincing because I'm freaking ecstatic. "Right, this is me. Trying to be super serious like--"
Don't say Mister Meep-Morp!
"--like...Ian Caruso."
Whew, made it.
"That's better," Sylvia says in this condescending tone she uses when she's straddling her high horse.
Man! She should do us all a favor and straddle Ian instead!
Ya know, I'd pay to see that. Not in an I'm-watching-her-boink kinda way. More like a thank-fuck-it's-finally-happening way.
"You know what I mean?" she says.
YOU ARE READING
Don't Look Back
RomanceONC 2024: In college, it was a case of wrong place/wrong time. Eight years later, they have a second chance. But will they take the leap? ___ Prompt 14: "My muse, believe me, waiting for you has been a form of freedom." ___ Excerpt: "Don't look bac...
