In a rage-filled text conversation I had with Neil, after I gave him the old one-two blow to the nuts, he did more damage to my heart than he’d done to my eyes. He’d always said he wasn’t really into oral sex, and I’d simply shrugged my shoulders and figured it wasn’t that great anyway. He had, however, been all over me giving him blow jobs. He didn’t apologize for cheating on me. He didn’t even try to convince me it was the first time either. But then his final message came in, and that was the one that destroyed my heart.
Neil: You were never enough for my needs. My tastes. She tastes fucking incredible. She makes me glad I never put my tongue in your cunt.
There were no other text messages after that. I blocked his number wondering how I’d stayed with someone so cruel for as long as I did. I still can’t comprehend it, and it’s something I try not to think about because I don’t want to go down that deep hole of depression again. Therefore, I tell myself to push it to the back of my mind like every other healthy individual.
“So, are you going to tell us?” Dottie asks, pulling me from my thoughts.
I plaster on a smile for my friends and say, “Tell you what?”
They exchange an annoyed look with each other and Lindsay says, “Uh, what happened with Knox on the fire escape? Did you kiss?”
Such Nosey Nellies, but I can’t be mad, because there was a time in our lives where we told each other every last thing about our lives. I have to remember that.
“Kiss? No.” I shake my head and then pull a piece of meat off my chicken. “We talked, played a little game of questions with Oreos, nothing too exciting.”
“You didn’t kiss? How on earth is that possible?” Lindsay, the boy-crazy friend, says. “He’s so hot.”
Ah, yes, the classic reason to kiss a guy, because he’s hot. Not because of his personality or anything.
“Yes, you’ve mentioned that before. But I’m not ready to jump into another relationship. I just got out of a six-year one.”
“Months ago,” Dottie adds with a friendly smile. “It was months ago when you ended things. You’re allowed to move on, Emory.”
“I know. I’m just keeping things easy, that’s all. I want to focus on school. Focus on me. I’ve been part of a couple for so long that it’s nice to simply breathe, you know, not have to worry about another human for a change.”
“I can understand that,” Dottie says while taking a sip of her soda. “But does Knox know that? I saw the look in his eyes when he spotted you, and it’s obvious he really likes you.”
“He’ll get over it. There are plenty of girls on campus he can dabble in. Trust me, I’m just a small blip on his radar.”
“Not true,” Lindsay says. “I’ve been going to the baseball loft ever since I was a freshman, and I’ve never seen Knox make a beeline for a girl like he did for you tonight.” And I’ve been with one guy so long I’ve probably lost my ability to see interest as genuine. But my girls won’t understand that. In some ways, I feel so much older from being in a long-term relationship. In other ways, naïve. Nevertheless, Knox Gentry is not on my radar.
“Must have been my perfume, I heard it has pheromones or something like that in it.”
Dottie rolls her eyes. “Keep telling yourself that, Emory.”
How does one choose what donut to get when there are at least twenty different flavors?
I’m in black leggings, an oversized sweatshirt that continues to hang off my shoulder, and my hair is piled in a mess on top of my head. It’s my Sunday garb, and I have no shame in it. I have one mission today and that’s to get a world-famous Frankie Donut, some coffee, and then walk back to my dorm, which is a mile away, making it a two-mile journey altogether and a guilt-free day of taking down a donut.
When I asked Lindsay and Dottie if they wanted to go with me, they rudely threw their pillows at their doors, pushing me away. I took that as a no.
I’ve learned very quickly they’re not morning people. That’s fine. I plugged my earbuds in, turned on my Spotify walking playlist, and took the journey down the Brentwood Boardwalk that borders Lake Michigan. The morning breeze coming off the lake and the bright sun shining down on me was exactly what my soul needed.
Now if only I could choose a donut.
I’ve let at least three people pass me in line, not wanting to make a rushed decision. This is my first Frankie Donut, after all. It has to be perfect.
I’ve narrowed it down to four. The blueberry streusel, the cherry lemonade, the old-fashioned with spice, and the cosmic chocolate cake donut. I refuse to buy all four, because two miles will only knock off so many calories.
Ugh, decisions, decisions.
My turn again, but I’m not ready, so I turn to the person behind me. “You can go in front of me.”
But when I look up to find a very sweaty-looking Knox wearing a baseball cap and running gear, I’m a little stunned. He smiles at me, those white teeth gleaming against his tan face. “I’d rather watch you continue to be indecisive.”
“Good Lord, how long have you been there?”
“Long enough.” He nods at the case of donuts. “What are you thinking?”
“It’s between four.” I bite my bottom lip in embarrassment.
He takes a step toward the counter and says, “A water and four donuts please.” He nods for me to join him. “Which ones? We can taste test them together.”
I’m about to tell him I’m good, but when he smirks and pleads with those sinfully charming eyes of his, I can’t help but give in. It’s a devilish smirk and a gleam in his eyes, born straight from Satan himself. Knox Gentry is a man who gets what he wants very often.
I order the four donuts I was debating between, as well as a coffee, and pull out my money from my sports bra. When I go to pay, Knox pushes my money to the side and says, “I got it, Em.”
I consider fighting him paying for my breakfast, but with the long line behind us, I decide to not cause a scene. I watch as the girl at the register passes glances over Knox, appreciating his physical form, taking in his broad chest and winning smile.
Can’t even be mad at her, because I’m doing the same exact thing.
Sweaty Knox is a sexy Knox.
He hands me my coffee, and I fill it with sugar and cream and meet him by the door. He holds it open for me and nods toward a little bench that overlooks the picturesque lake. I follow him and take a seat, soaking in the fresh morning air. There is nothing better in my opinion than waking up early enough to still taste the brand-new morning.
“Were you out running?” I ask, even though it’s kind of obvious.
“Yeah, I try to get some miles in on the weekends, keep up my stamina. What about you?” Of course he does. Get some miles in . . . I get my miles in for donuts.
“I’d like to say I was working out,” I say while dangling my feet off the bench seat, “but I basically walked to the donut shop and convinced myself that walking to and from my dorm would give me the go-ahead to take down some fried dough.”
He chuckles. “I think that’s fair. You really live in the dorms?”
He hands me a napkin and then pops open the donut box between us. An impromptu meetup. I can’t say it doesn’t put a smile on my face.