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At Peace

At Peace (The ‘Burg #2)(81)
Author: Kristen Ashley

I just stared at her, silent. Not that I was participating in the conversation but I had nothing to say.

Because I knew she was right.

She kept talking. “You play with him as long as you want, your gut will tell you when the time is up. And you’re doin’ right, keepin’ Mike on that string. He’s hot too and gorgeous and you don’t want him to move on while you’re sorting your head out. You want him right where he needs to be when you’re ready to reel him in.”

“That’s selfish,” I whispered.

“That’s lookin’ out for you. Not one f**kin’ thing selfish about that and, you been honest, he knows the score and he told you flat out he’s willin’ to hang around. And he’s willin’ ‘cause he ain’t stupid. He knows what kind of woman you are and he knows in the end, you’re gonna be with him and his dog in that big, ole, six thousand dollar bed and he’s happy to wait. When your sexy neighbor doesn’t flinch at a man askin’ you out right in front of him, what’s that tell you about Mike?” Cheryl ended on a question.

I licked my lips, dropped my head and stared at my Diet Coke because I knew what that told me about Mike. Cheryl was right. I knew all of this before walking into the bar.

“Yeah,” Cheryl said gently, her hand covering mine which was resting on the bar. She gave it a squeeze then she said, “You’re probably drivin’ but I’m callin’ Reggie, gettin’ us a pizza. You fill your belly with pizza, you can also add a bit of vodka to the mix and you need vodka. Cheryl’s orders.”

After she delivered that line, she walked away, heading toward the phone.

I looked at Feb who was watching me but Dee spoke.

“Sorry about all this Vi. On the face of it, lotsa women would think this was a great problem to have. But I can tell it’s eatin’ you.”

That was an understatement. It was more than eating me.

To communicate that, I nodded and said, “Yeah.”

“You need to talk, get my number from Feb. Anytime, hon, yeah?” I nodded again and she leaned in. “I mean that, okay? Not fun, bein’ new in town and not havin’ your girls around you. So you need girls and I’m happy to be one of them. Cool?”

I smiled at her because this felt good and she was right, I did need girls and I said, “Cool.”

She smiled back, threw Feb a look and walked around the bar, lifting up the section that was hinged so she could go and collect empties.

“Vi,” Feb called and I looked from Dee to her and she leaned in too, her voice quiet, almost a whisper as she said, “I needed fixing.”

I swallowed and her hand came out, covered mine and held on tight.

“If Colt gave up, thought I wasn’t worth the effort…” she shook her head, “God, don’t know what I’d do.”

“Feb,” I whispered back.

“My life was shit, Vi, absolute shit. I was breathin’ but I wasn’t livin’. I felt nothin’, just moved through life, empty. Colt filled me up. He didn’t give up on me until I was full. Now, honey, life is so full, every day I wake up next to him and I feel like I’m bursting.” Her hand squeezed mine and she whispered, “It’s beautiful.”

“I’m so glad for you.” I was also still whispering.

“You got it in you to give that to Cal, don’t give up on him. Man’s empty, he needs someone to fill him up.”

I licked my lips and fought back the tears that sprung to my eyes.

Her hand released mine and she said, “Mike’s a good guy too. Don’t get me wrong. Whatever you decide, you decide and I’m right there with you, yeah?”

I nodded even though I knew, without a doubt, she liked Mike but she wanted me with Joe.

Great, just what I needed, more contradictory advice.

“What do you like on your pizza?” Feb asked. “If it isn’t olives and sausage, we’ll have to order another one. That’s all Cheryl’ll order, she never asks anyone what they want.”

“That sounds good, I’m not picky,” I told her.

“Great,” she replied. “Girls’ night at J&J’s on a Sunday, perfect. Best day of the week and one of the best things you can do, hangin’ with your girls.”

She wasn’t wrong so I nodded at her and smiled.

“Be back in a sec,” she told me and moved away.

I took a sip of Diet Coke.

I was glad I came to J&J’s, it was better than going to an empty house and eating dinner for one. It was lots better, especially since it turned into girls’ night.

The problem was, I came to get their help to get my head straight and I was more torn than ever.

* * * * *

I heard the sliding glass door open and I rolled to look at the clock.

Eleven twenty-three.

I rolled to my back, wishing I wasn’t awake and waiting for Joe; wishing I hadn’t, a half an hour ago, done a new kind of walk of shame, checking on the girls to make sure they were asleep; wishing I had magic because I’d been lying in bed the last hour and a half, thinking of that scene with Bonnie, how Joe had been after it, knowing now that he was empty, like Feb said, because he wouldn’t be able to survive that scene without getting torn up inside unless there was nothing to tear up. And I wanted the magic to be able to fill him up like Feb was. Make him laugh and smile regularly like she did. Give him that look she had, where you knew life for her was good but she didn’t take it for granted because she knew how it felt when life could be bad and she appreciated what she had.

I left my door open for him and Joe closed it then I watched his shadow walk to the bed. I saw him bend, his boots hitting the carpet, heard his clothes rustle as he moved then heard them fall to the ground. Then he reached in and my bedside light was on.

I blinked and felt the covers being swept back and was able to focus when the wall of his body hit me.

“Joe –”

I stopped speaking because his lips were on mine, his tongue spiking in my mouth, his hands going up the tee, his tee that I wore to bed.

He kissed me breathless then lifted his head, his hands still moving on my skin along my sides, hips, over my ass.

“Talked to Tina,” he told me in that way of his where he started a conversation in the middle like we’d been talking for awhile not making out after him just getting to my bed.

“Yeah?” I whispered because I still hadn’t gotten over his kiss and it wasn’t helping that his hands kept moving, lazy and light, on my skin.

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