Be My One Regret

be my 1 regret / 14

~now~

WHEN THE DEVIL CALLS....don't answer, seriously, don't, it's bad news.....

Two weeks have gone by fast. And every single day, I feel edgier than the day before.

I can't blame work for it. Work was great. I'm handling it like a pro. At least that's what one of my bosses keeps saying when she breezes past my open office door. Which was nice to hear even if briefly fast. And encouraging as some mentions were circling that my internship would likely  lead to a permanent position. Again, nice to hear. It was. And I should feel honored that I have been weeded out as most promising amongst the handful of interns that B & B took on this summer. I should. I was. I am. 

But still....something fills missing.

Strumming my fingers on my desktop, I blankly stare at the screen on my laptop. The screen saver of ocean waves was long gone. It's completely black now. I'd been staring at it that long. My mind was that lost in thought. So lost. Any chance of one of the bosses passing by my door today would definitely have them reconsidering my level of productivity for the company. And it's a frustrating funk. One that has me mumbling to myself and sighing heavily in alternating ridiculousness.

And I can't seem to break free from my lackadaisical mood. So I give up and let my thoughts wander, scatter, and retrace the past 14 days.

Cleo and I were on the up and up, friendship and room mate wise. Which has been a nice reprieve to the inconsistency of Tanner being his complete self-absorbed self. I miss him. Tremendously. More than I thought I would. And I wish I knew what he was doing with his spare time, like I didn't know already, because I was certain it involved a latest tryst or two or three. But still, I'd give anything to hear his voice and listen to all his worst hedonistic trouble. As for the other twin, Tucker had been strangely distant. And him keeping his distance from me was more weird than him stalking me. I was trying not to take it personally. I was. But the fact that we had sex and he didn't even bother to call me or text me about it, even if to just taunt me, was irritating. It was obviously not of the committal variety. I knew that. I was totally okay with that.  But I felt cheap. More than the little bit i should allow. Which aggravated the hell out of me. 

But Tucker's loss  meant that there was still a chance with Baz. And damn, I was eager to develop that chance into a sweaty roll in the sheets. Seriously, I needed that, the sooner, the better to kill off the lingering Tucker effect. 

Unfortunately, Baz and I have been taking it slowly. Almost too slowly. It was sweet. Gentlemanly. And for any other girl who adores a guy to 'woo her' and wants a guy to desire more than just what's between their legs, it was perfect. He was perfect in that scenario. But not me, it utterly bothers me. I needed him to make me feel better about myself. To help me forget what an absolute dip-shit I was for sleeping with Tucker. But Baz didn't seem to get my 'come-ons'. He played them down, keeping us in the newly couple phase, telling me things like he wanted to know me better and that he wanted to prove he was less of an asshole than Tucker. Gawd, it was too sweet, and it was getting under my nerves. The closeness, the nearness, the exhaustive kissing leading to every base except home plate. It was killing my lady parts. They hated the teasing, and I was sure that their bottled up horney-ness was going to explode at any given minute. 

Because damn him for being a hot, tempting apple. A sexy, juicy one that I wanted to take a very big bite of. In the worst way.

Which was probably why I was edgy. I was stuck in lady blue ball land. And it didn't look like I was leaving any time soon. Which sucks.

Not for the lack of me trying. I did. I tried. Every single chance I get, I'd reassure him there's nothing for him to worry about. And that there was absolutely nothing between me and Tucker. And that nothing ever happened that questionable night. Lies, lies, lies, of course. It was pathetic. But I said them anyway. Meaning every word. Because I tell, or lie to,  myself that it was  better this way. To stick to the plan of 'better safe than sorry' and keep my salacious, atrocious, Tucker Jones- indiscretion a secret. And it was a helluva better idea than to tell the one guy who actually likes me the disgusting truth that I'm a loser with a vice for anything Jones related.