Who am I? This isn’t me. I have barely dated over the years. And none of them I have lusted for. Especially men who are the definition of unavailable—physically and emotionally.
From the moment Garrett placed his lips on my forehead and left a kiss that I’m pretty sure branded me, all I can think about is that I want him to kiss me more. And on more places than just my forehead.
“See that!” Cassie yells. “That look! Right there. What is that look and what are you holding out on me? Because it looks like you are getting orgasms on the regular and I’ve yet to hear about the person giving them to you.”
It was only a matter of time before I knew I would have to tell Cassie about Garrett. In my defense, what was I going to tell her?
So there’s this guy. He’s not a guy. He’s a man. An older man. He’s one of my student’s uncles and he’s a sexy doctor who asked me to help him in his quest to better his life. So every weekend, and a few times during the week, we do volunteer stuff together. How could I say no to that? But we’re just friends. He’s technically still married and I’m… me.
“You’re wrong. There are no orgasms.”
“That doesn’t mean you don’t want there to be. Spill it, sister. No holding back now. I’ve been waiting six years for you to dish about a guy. Wait. Hold on. Let me go get my drink.”
I laugh as Cassie sprints out of my room. She’s right. She has waited six years to hear about my sex life. In the men I’ve barely dated, I’ve only slept with two of them. And neither were ones who rose to the level of tell your best friend about it.
Maybe I should have told her. Maybe we could have laughed together about the guy who cried when he came. But until Cassie, I never had a best friend to confide in about things like sex or relationships.
Which is why this conversation is uncharted territory for me when Cassie plops back down into my bean bag chair with her tumbler of water. At least, she says it’s water. I doubt it most of the time.
“First off. What’s his name?”
“It’s… It’s Garrett.”
It takes her a second before I can see the lightbulb go off above her head.
“Garrett? As in Cullen’s hot-as-fuck uncle who gave every mother in this school a spontaneous orgasm at the fundraising meeting? That Garrett?”
“The very one.”
“Holy shit, girl. You don’t date, like ever, and that’s who you go after? I must say, I’m impressed. Wait! How long have you been holding out on me? Are you dating? Holy shit, is that look your day-after-sex face? I’ve never seen it, so I don’t know. Oh my God. You’re having sex. I need to know everything.”
I laugh, ensure her that no sex is happening and fill her in on everything. Well, most of it. I start with how we connected at Christmas, and how I ran into him at the 5K. How since then he’s been joining me in my volunteer ventures, and how he’s even found a few to get involved in on his own, including the champagne lunch yesterday. Which then, of course, leads to the forehead kiss.
“He kissed you on the forehead?”
“Yeah. Is there something wrong with that?”
“No, I mean, forehead kisses can be the most confusing ones. If it was a quick peck, then it might as well be your grandpa giving you a kiss goodbye. But if he lingered… then it could mean something more.”
I think about it. It definitely didn’t feel like a relative showing affection. And it did feel like it lasted for a while. Then again, for how much I’ve replayed it in my head today, it could have lasted for two seconds that I’ve now blown up into thinking it was for two hours.
“Lingered. Definitely lingered. And before that I swear he was about to really kiss me. I know I don’t have a lot of experience with that stuff, but I… there was an energy between us.”
Cassie lets out a dreamy sigh. “That feeling is the best. The anticipation. I’m so jealous of you.”
I laugh. “You’ve never been jealous of me in the entire history of our friendship. I doubt a forehead kiss with debatable meanings is going to change that.”
“That’s a lie. I’m constantly jealous of your hair. And I’ve always wanted to know what it was like to get a discount at Disney World on account of being a princess.”
I pick up a small stuffed animal on my desk and throw it at her. She knows I hate it when she makes her princess jokes.
I’m not. I’m the furthest thing from it. Disney princesses might have to overcome hardships for their happily ever after, but none of them have to make up for the things I have done. Or decisions I’ve had to make.
Of course, my friends don’t know about that. Not even Cassie. That’s in my past and I’ve worked my butt off to overcome that part of my life. Yet every time they tell me that I’m a blonde Snow White, I can’t help but think that Snow White wouldn’t have had to leave her home just to get away from a past that would haunt her until her final breath.
“In all seriousness,” Cassie says, pulling me from my thoughts. “I don’t think that it was a friendly kiss. I also think that he’s in a sticky situation with his marriage. He’s probably just as confused as you are.”
I let that sink in. She’s right. He has been through so much since Christmas. He nearly died, for goodness’ sake. He’s going through another divorce.
That part should scare me away. Honestly, a lot should scare me away from anything having to do with Garrett Dixon.
I’ve learned so much about him the past few months—the good, bad, and ugly. I know that he cheated on his first wife. I know that he’s not even officially divorced yet and I would swear on a stack of bibles that he was going to kiss me yesterday. I know he is older and much more experienced than I am. All of those reasons should be plenty of warning for me to stay away.
But I meant what I told him—who we are in our present is much more important than who we were in our past. Yes, we all have pasts. Some were better than others. I know that better than anyone. What counts is the person we are trying to be right now.
And right now? I don’t see an older man with about to be two ex-wives. I don’t even see an uncle of one of my students. That was a flimsy excuse then and it’s even more so now.
Right now, I see a man who might be older, but by his actions, is saying that it’s never too late to try and change your direction in life. That it’s never too late to try and be a better person. And I think that’s the part of him I’m falling for the most. Because if I have figured anything out since yesterday, it’s that I’m falling for Garrett Dixon.
Hard.
“Are you going to get that?” Cassie asks.
“Huh?”
She nods toward my purse on my desk. “I think your phone is vibrating.”
I hurry up and dig for my phone, secretly hoping it’s Garrett.
“Hello?”
No one says anything, and I pull the phone away from my ear when I realize the origin of the call. It’s another unknown number.
“Hello?” I ask again.
“How are you, Josephine?”
How in the hell did she get this number?
“You have the wrong number.”
I hurry and hang up the phone and pray that my face doesn’t give away the gravity of what just happened. Luckily, Cassie was scrolling through Facebook when I took a phone call from the one person I hoped to never hear from for the rest of my life.