“Coen, my boy! You’re walking. That’s wonderful news.” Robert’s fake smile and sordid attitude already grated on my nerves. He walked toward me, his head held high and his eyes leveling with mine.
When he tried bringing me in for a hug, I brushed him off. “You’re fired.” I barely muttered the words because my teeth were clenched entirely too tight.
“You can’t fire me. You’d be a drunken loser if not for me!” he snarled.
Did he plan on bleeding me dry? It wasn’t like he gave a flying fuck about my career, let alone my health.
“Doesn’t matter where you think I’d be. Because of you, I’m in a brace. I might never compete again.” My voice shook but I went with a calm reaction, so fucking calm that I almost sounded unfazed and emotionless.
“I guess I’m lucky I found a new disciple. I don’t need you anymore,” he scoffed.
At least he was finally honest, even without admitting he trashed my career.
“We both know you had him under your wing for the last year. That’s okay, though. I have so much more to do before I retire, and I don’t need you to do it,” I stated warily before walking toward the door.
“You were becoming a liability! I did you a favor!” he yelled after me. Fuck that.
I hobbled back toward him, pulling my arm back my fist collided with his face. He tumbled onto his desk holding his jaw in his hands. “Why the fuck did you do that?!”
“I have a lot left in me, it wasn’t your choice to take action. You should’ve just dropped me.”
“That would be too easy, you’re too good. You’d make it so Ferris would still be in second. Your time to shine is over.”
“You’ll be hearing from my new agent and lawyers.”
“You have no proof, Coen. You’re done,” he scoffed.
“I’m done when I can no longer walk,” I gritted out. “You’re worthless for thinking you could get away with this. Money and fame isn’t everything.” Before he responded I turned and left his office.
That felt so goddamn good. There wasn’t an explanation for the weight that lifted from abandoning that man. He was my past, and Rebel would be my future.
On the way out the front Kyler stopped me, “Hey man, I heard you fucked up your knee pretty good.”
“Yeah, but I’m not giving up yet. I’ll be looking for a new agent to sponsor me.”
He smiled massively, “I’ll sponsor you, bro.” I couldn’t believe my ears. Kyler was top notch in the industry. Back in the day, he was the best rider out there. My stomach squeezed, it wasn’t pain or nervousness, it was excitement.
“Really?” I balked. Someone as talented as Kyler would set me up for the rest of my career.
“Yeah, I’ll send a contract to your lawyers after mine draft it up.”
“Wow. Thank you, man.” I leaned in to shake his hand, and he pulled me into a manly hug.
“Around me, we hug.” He chuckled in my ear while patting my back.
“I can’t thank you enough.”
“If anything, I’ll be thanking you. Now get off that knee and we’ll talk soon.” He shooed me out the door and I felt elated for this new adventure. On the way to the car, I texted Conor.
Hey, want to go to the Bahamas?
Hell yeah! When are we going? He responded. I could imagine him jumping up and down on the other end of the phone.
Two days.
Asshole, you are lucky I have a passport.
Get your shit packed.
I wobbled to my car, heading home and dreading the drive. Two days and she’d be mine for good. Two days to make her fall in love with me once again and trust that this was real. Two days until I made the biggest ass out of myself in front of all her readers.
Don’t fuck this shit up, bro.
I had plans. They were outright insane, and god forbid I ruined everything because of them.
Rebel
No calls, no texts, or even Facebook messages. I hated to allow myself to fill with disappointment, but that was all I felt. He could have left a simple note, or hell, drop a quick email saying he wanted to try again. Conor made me want to try again, make it work, and yet, nothing…
But it was on him to come back to me. Call me selfish or not, I wasn’t making the first move.
After Carl cheating on me, my trust wore thin. I never really gave Coen a fighting chance. Now that I was willing to, he was nowhere to be found. Conor had to be wrong, or he’d have reached out, right?
You’re overthinking this. Brush it off and be a badass bitch like the characters you write. Get on with your bad self.
I had an “On-the-line Date” tonight. Basically, you called a company, and they set you up with a voice you are interested in hearing. Yeah, this shit existed.
I wanted a rugged and gritty voice to listen to, so I checked the box that said, “Sexed up voice.” Didn’t I deserve to hear a hot as fuck voice? That’s my story, and I’m sticking with it.
Should I wear makeup? Should I shave my bigfoot-worthy legs? I’d never done this shit before.
A knock sounded at my bedroom door. Stace popped her head in while I had only a bra and panties on. I’d cover up, but Stace has seen everything more times than any of my doctors. “Babe? What’re the plans for tonight? We leave for the cruise tomorrow,” she stated and questioned all at once, almost acting as if I’d cancel our cruise or something.
“I have a phone date.” I laughed. The thought dating on a phone was so absurd.
“How the hell does that work?” she asked, eyes widened and a smile plastered on her face.
“You get set up with a voice of choice, and then you do whatever your heart desires,” I said while stifling my giggles. Stace always knew how to make things interesting.
“So, like phone fucking?” She tapped her chin inquisitively.
“Who the hell says that?” I arched a brow at her.
“It sounded better in my head, all right?”
“I don’t know how that could sound remotely okay in any way, shape, or form. I’ve never had phone sex before. This is strictly research.” I mock-gasped.
“Uh huh, research. Try not to cum all for a voice that doesn’t belong to the man you actually want on the opposite end of that call,” she stated pointedly.
Why was everyone lecturing me? Coen hadn’t come back to me, his move and his call. I wasn’t going to wait around for him to decide he finally wanted me. I’m almost fucking thirty. We are either in it or not. Playing back and forth is for teenagers.
Ignoring the gnawing feeling from Stace’s words, I went to my room and locked the door behind me. It’s not like I’m cheating. But it made me question my antics.
My phone rang, “Turn me on,” by Kevin Little playing. I knew it was the phone date calling me. Excitement made me curl at my toes. It was like listening to audiobooks. I got chills and aroused when listening to the burly and masculine voices. The sex scenes didn’t hurt either, but the buttery smoothness of their voices made one helluva a difference.
With trembling fingers, I answered. My nerves were shot. Why did this feel wrong? As if I meant anything to Coen and we were still together? No, he isn’t mine. He never was. I wasn’t hooking up or anything, right? It didn’t matter, it was for research. Not cheating on a man who wasn’t mine anyway.