Almost Perfect: A Frenemies to Lovers Romance

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Almost Perfect: A Frenemies to Lovers Romance Page 13

by Claudia Burgoa


  I haven’t been sleeping around for a couple of years. The last person I slept with before you was Sam. That was around the time of the accident. It’s about appearances. Just because I go to events with a plus one, it doesn’t mean I’m fucking the woman. I just let June believe I do because it takes away the scent of what I’ve been doing—sleeping with her best friend.

  To have a girlfriend, I need time. Currently, my life is divided between work, my sponsorships, and the kids. Bruno is growing more than I expected (picture attached). Draco still sees him as a little pup who needs his guidance, they’re cute together.

  Back to me…I’m too old to just be dating for the sake of dating. I found the courage to believe that my future can be different. The next time I am with a woman, it’ll be because she changed my world. I’m willing to wait for her, to climb mountains to find her, and be worthy of her. When this rare love finally arrives in my life, I’m going to hold on to it.

  The next time I fall, it’ll be without reservations. Because I know I’ve found my forever person.

  Sounds like you’re enjoying this picturesque town, I googled it, and I’m intrigued. Maybe next year, you can take me on a tour?

  Unless you want me to join you now?

  We could take care of your needs while I’m there.

  Sorry, this is a short letter. I have a lot of work and a few photoshoots to attend. It’s that time of the year when my sponsors need new headshots for their media. I hate it.

  UNT,

  Alex

  P.S. The doodle is a scribble, really, how can you have sex through doodles? I was hoping you’d have pity on me and send me your phone number.

  P.S. 2 Thank you for changing my world.

  Twenty-Nine

  Things I’ve Learned so Far

  By Hannah Bell

  Always trust your gut.

  Don’t wait for life to happen, make things happen for yourself.

  Don’t create a bucket list, live it.

  Explore your surroundings and learn something new every day.

  Ask at least 10 questions a day.

  Do something that scares you every day.

  You can’t force anyone to love you.

  Your family is your support group, trust them.

  Love yourself above everything.

  Learn a skill that brings you peace as you create it.

  Chapter Thirty

  To: Hannah

  From: Ethan

  Subject: Articles

  Love the series you did with the East-Bali project. We actually got a huge response from your readers. They donated a ton of money through Tucker’s charity. We’re sending a big check to help build a new orphanage. What’s with the other article? I thought you were going to write something more meaningful. Like why let go of that person who doesn’t love you.

  May I remind you SS is your support network. We feel left out. I heard you’re meeting your family for the holidays. I’m glad you didn’t change the tradition, though, I’d have loved to see you.

  Also, do you think the Speedman might want to write as a guest during the winter season?

  Love,

  E

  To: Ethan

  From: Hannah

  Subject: Support Network

  You’re my family, too, of course, you’re my support network and all that fun shit. Of course I’m meeting them. It’s a hiatus, not medieval torture. Maybe we can meet before I go into the sanctuary? I’d love to see you guys.

  Talk to Alex about being a guest writer. I can’t believe you’re calling him the Speedman, what happened to Golden Boy?

  We stopped our correspondence. (He just doesn’t know it). His last letter was…weird.

  Love,

  Hannah

  Hannah,

  Happy Holidays.

  Alex

  Alex,

  Happy Holidays.

  Hannah

  Hannah: Merry Christmas to you and the snuggle bugs.

  June: Thank you for the outfits you sent them. Attaching some pictures of them. Where are you spending the day?

  Hannah: I’m traveling for a couple of weeks with my family.

  June: I’m glad you’re not alone.

  Hannah: Who is hosting Christmas this year?

  June: Jack hosted Christmas Eve. We’re on our way to Jason’s for brunch and dinner is here at my house.

  June: (Alex) Merry Christmas. Answer my last letter. I feel like you left me hanging. (Thank you for the Christmas card.)

  Hannah: I’m heading to a retreat. I’ll try to answer, but if not, see you next March. Happy New Year to you and your family. (Thank you for the Christmas card.)

  Thirty-One

  Putting the Pieces Back Together

  By Hannah Bell

  During my trip, I corresponded with friends and family. It’s refreshing to write letters, instead of emailing or texting. In one of Mom’s letters, she said something that stuck with me. Sometimes you have to fall apart in order to put the pieces back together and create someone even stronger.

  She’s always encouraged me to become the person I want to be. If it doesn’t work the way I planned it, it’s more than okay. Because I’m learning.

  All the mistakes I’ve made before and during this trip are part of my learning process. Reaching my full potential is scary, but it fuels me with the courage to continue my journey.

  After twelve months of traveling and learning from other cultures, I realize how comfortable I’ve been with my grief. Life became alright, but I never reached my full potential.

  Walking away from my family and my life was the bravest, scariest, craziest thing I’ve ever done. In doing so, I’ve learned a lot.

  Settling will never make you happy. Life will never be extraordinary if you keep doing ordinary things for the rest of your life.

  Going back home is also scary. All the people I left behind might’ve forgotten me. I know everything changed while I was gone and adjusting to that is going to be hard.

  What if they don’t accept who I’ve become?

  What if I don’t like what’s happened since I left?

  Wait for more from this journey. I might not be traveling, but I can’t wait to share with you the next step, and how I’ll conquer as many of my fears as I can while I do what I love.

  Until Next Time

  Thirty-Two

  Hannah

  Heading back to San Francisco is a last-minute decision. My security team was about to rotate. I ask them to give me a ride to San Francisco instead. It’s time to come home.

  What I didn’t know is that the flight was at midnight. Since they’re supposed to report to headquarters at nine, they drop me at the airport at six in the morning. Once I’m in the service car on my way to my apartment, I call Ethan.

  I just posted my latest article, and I want his feedback on it as well as his opinion on the next article—and project.

  “What do you think?” I ask Ethan.

  He yawns. “Love the pictures you’re adding to the articles.”

  “But?”

  “I swear, I can’t keep waking up in the middle of the night to have these conversations.” He clears his throat. “When are you really coming back?”

  “First of all, it’s a little past six in the morning. Also, I’m on my way,” I say, yawning.

  “Seriously?”

  “Yep, I’m twenty minutes away from my apartment. The security detail didn’t update you?” I ask, surprised.

  “Maybe they told Tucker,” he says and goes quiet. “Yep, he knew, but he’s still sleeping. I texted the guys. Do you want me to tell anyone else?”

  “Nah. My parents already know I’m here,” I tell him. “My plan for today is to arrive home and sleep all day before I start making calls.”

  “Who do you need to call?”

  I close my eyes and groan. “Any college that might hire me?”

  He laughs. “You knew this would happen. How are things with your parents?”

&n
bsp; “Good, we smoothed everything out while I was away.”

  “Through letters?”

  “I did mail them letters, but the rest was through phone calls and Christmas break.”

  He laughs. “The Speedman?”

  Well, let me tell you, Ethan, he sent me a letter that scared me because between the lines he really meant he’s waiting for me. Didn’t he?

  Instead of going on with him about the last letter, I say, “He’s relentless, but we’re friends now—I think. How’s Lori?”

  “We broke up a year ago.”

  I cough. “What? Why? You never mentioned it.”

  He exhales loudly. “You’re in the middle of an existential crisis. Telling you then or now doesn’t matter.”

  “I’m sorry?” I try to be supportive, but since he doesn’t sound heartbroken and the guys hated her, I’m okay with this. “What happened though?”

  “Lori made me choose between Tuck and her.”

  I laugh so hard the driver looks at me strangely. “She seriously didn’t know you, did she?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Did you love her?”

  “I thought I did, but…not being myself because of her was exhausting. In the end, this was for the best, you know. Reading your articles helped me, too.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. So, there’s another article I wrote. I’m emailing it to you. Can you post it later today after you proof it?”

  “What is it about?”

  “My next step, I think it is going to be fun.”

  “Should I be concerned, Nana?”

  “Nope.”

  “Any broken hearts you might’ve left behind?”

  “Nope, I behaved.”

  “Alex?”

  “He’s behind. Maybe he was rebound boy,” I say with conviction. “I just rebounded too many times.”

  “Let him down nicely, okay?”

  “Believe me, there’s no love lost between us.”

  He laughs. “Text us when you’re home.”

  Thirty-Three

  Are You Searching for Your Forever Person?

  By Hannah Bell

  Before I can find my forever person, I need to kiss a few toads. Maybe a few of them will be princes. Someone I can get to know. And if we have the right chemistry, we can become more.

  Who am I looking for?

  You know, that person who makes your heart skip a beat when they’re around. The sweet addiction you can’t get enough of, so you keep going back. You go back to them so often that you fall madly in love and the journey to build forever, begins.

  I know, I said the l word.

  Love is complex.

  An emotion not many can explain, but millions presume to have felt. Philosophers, songwriters, poets, and artists have written about this feeling for centuries. It’s like air, you can’t see it, but yet, it exists. There’s been a debate about it for nearly as long—as if love is a choice or something programmed into our DNA.

  There’s something for sure, it’s a feeling that changes from one person to another. Not one love is the same.

  Is it an uncontrollable emotion you can’t ignore when the perfect person enters your life?

  We go back again to the right person.

  In a world of seven billion people, there has to be someone who would accept you with all your quirks. People spend a lifetime searching for that perfect candidate who’ll bring them all the happiness they deserve.

  As I dusted off my old essays from high school, I came upon one that brought up this article.

  I was young. I wasn’t looking for the perfect guy. That didn’t mean I hadn’t thought about marriage. My perfect companion would be a man with at least these qualities: sincerity, integrity, compassion, a sense of humor, commitment, and confidence.

  He has to be genuine. Honest.

  I want to be with someone who I can count on wholeheartedly and who’ll count on me. Attraction matters, don’t get me wrong. But at the end of the day, I want to be with someone I’d like for the rest of my life. Love him for an eternity.

  However, it’s the twenty-first century, and it has become a lot more comfortable to date through apps and social media.

  So how do I find this guy who will sweep me off my feet when people constantly swipe left on your profile when they don’t see what they’re looking for, for the night—or for a weekend?

  Well, my friend, I have decided to give a try to dating the old fashioned way. It’s possible. For twelve months, I’ve been writing letters with friends and family.

  Why not dare to date the old fashioned way?

  Stick with me while I navigate the scene of night clubs, bars, fitness clubs, and even grocery stores. If you have any suggestions on where to find the ideal guy, send them over to our inbox.

  This isn’t How to Meet a Guy in 10 Dates. It’s How to Meet the Love of Your Life.

  I want to fall for someone who can embrace my scars, enjoy my rants, and love me as I am.

  Until Next Time

  Thirty-Four

  Hannah

  There’s nothing better than arriving at your house after being away for so long. What did I learn? To love my bed. God, I miss my soft pillow, my cat, candy, and sex.

  Not in that particular order. There’s no real order to what I missed more. Maybe sex is the last thing I need. I grin when I remember the last time I had sex—in France with Alex. It was better than snickerdoodles dipped in chocolate. He made it so…intense. More than usual.

  That man is a character. These past couple of months, I missed our exchange of letters. They helped me so much in a way I could’ve never guessed. We were able to talk about things I never thought we could discuss. He shared so much of himself with me.

  Who knew he was so much more than an athlete? I should’ve known. I grew up in a circle where people judge you by pictures and bogus articles.

  Those letters were meant to keep him away. Yet, they brought us closer. They healed me.

  It was smart to stop my exchange with him, wasn’t it?

  In all honesty, I was bummed that he didn’t try to communicate with me after I told him I’d be excommunicated.

  It was all for the best, though. We’re officially over.

  This was perfect. Goodbye sex in France, closure letters while we were apart. It’s so last century that I think I should write a fictional book about us.

  Now, there’s a new idea.

  When I ask the car service to drop me two blocks from my apartment complex, so I can grab a coffee, I remember things aren’t necessarily over between Alex and me. I still have to see him to get my cat. Or, is Draco in my apartment?

  Maybe Tess was right, I should’ve called her and asked for her help. Protecting her sometimes doesn’t work as well as I’d hope. It never worked while we were growing up. We did idiotic things trying to protect each other from Alicia.

  Let’s just call this an old mistake and move on. I have so much to do. Ethan sent me an email of a publisher who wants to discuss a book deal about my journey. I knew things would be brighter as I walked back into my life.

  March 1st isn’t the beginning of Spring, but I feel like it’s the best day to rejoin my life. The weather is just perfect. Mid-sixties. Not too hot or too cold. It’s cold enough to order a latte at my favorite coffee house and warm enough not to need a thick jacket.

  Dragging my carry-on all the way to the apartment complex, I wonder how I’m supposed to contact Alex to ask for my cat. After I yawn, I realize that it doesn’t matter as much as catching up on some sleep. I need my bed…and maybe a thirty-six-hour nap before I start my next project.

  Do I really want to date?

  I’ve never gone out on real dates. My only boyfriend took me out on pre-approved dates. Unless I count all the premieres he dragged me to because he wanted to show off his beautiful girlfriend. Davis played me so well. He doesn’t matter. I’m over him and all the skeletons in my closet that infested my life.

  But seriously,
how am I supposed to find a date?

  Stop, Hannah. You’re too tired to make the key work, finding a date will be catastrophic.

  Wait, I look at the door. Since when do I have a keypad? I take a step back and check the apartment number. I’m in the right place.

  Grabbing my phone, I text June.

  Hannah: What’s your brother’s number?

  June: Hello to you, too, stranger.

  Hannah: Number, now.

  June: What happened?

  Hannah: I have zero sleep, and I can’t enter my own home. There’s an electronic lock on my door!

  June: Try 5030.

  I punch the number, and it opens right away.

  “Bruno, Draco, stop!” I hear the yell before I see my cat and a black and white furball coming to heel in front of me. “Mind closing the door?”

  When I look toward my kitchen, I see him. Alex stands by my stove, wearing only a pair of boxer briefs, and he’s cooking.

  “What are you doing in my house?” I ask, squatting to pick up Draco, who’s purring around my leg.

  “Hey, baby, I missed you.” I hug him tight while the black and white ball of fur next to him sits and pants. I pat him asking Draco, “Is this your new friend?”

  “Breakfast is ready, darling. It would have been nice to know you’d be home today. Good thing I’m now part of the SS group chat,” Alex says as if it’s the most normal thing to do. I frown at him. “Have you eaten yet?”

  “You’re in my house, naked, and cooking,” I state, dropping my stuff on the couch. “Look, thank you for keeping an eye on my cat, but…”

  Looking around, I realize that my living room looks slightly different. The color of the walls is a lighter tone of lavender. The couches look...newer. Everything is out of place. “What happened?”

 

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