Confessions of an Alli Cat

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Confessions of an Alli Cat Page 12

by Courtney Cole


  Butterflies of my own flutter in my stomach.

  His expression is playful and naughty as he climbs from the pool and walks to me, bending down to grab the towel next to me.

  “Are we on for next weekend?” he asks quietly, staring down at me with his blue, blue, blue freaking eyes.

  I smile. “I don’t know,” I answer. “It’s still this weekend. Next weekend is a long way away.”

  He chuckles, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Sophie is still swimming. She is.

  “Ah, don’t tease me, Alli Cat. I’m going to need my Alli fix by next weekend. And you’re going to need Shade.”

  I swallow. He’s actually right. I will definitely need Shade by next weekend. It’s a thought that has already crossed my mind and it’s a little bothersome. Have I come to depend on him already…to fill up my alone time? It’s a slightly troublesome thought.

  “Maybe,” I answer coyly, hiding my concern.

  He grins. “I’ll schedule you in for a block of time,” he tells me. “Just in case.” And he winks again as he towels off his hair. God, I love it when he winks. It’s so cute and ornery. And flirty.

  I am still looking up at him when I hear Rick the Dick’s voice coming through the gate.

  Hell.

  I stand up and Colby walks over to Sophie, presumably to give her some last tips before she has to leave with her dad.

  Rick comes over to me, his gaze sliding up and down my body. I try not to shudder. The thought that this slime-ball’s hands have been on my body so many times throughout the last fifteen years is enough to make me want to drown myself in my own pool, right after I fill it with acid, of course, to burn off the memory of his touch.

  “You’re looking good, Alli,” he tells me. Even his voice is disgusting to me now. “You’re working out.”

  “I’ve always worked out, Rick,” I remind him sharply. “You just never noticed. It’s hard to notice your wife when you’ve always got a girlfriend on the side.”

  He doesn’t appear to hear my barb.

  He steps closer. “Yes, you do look good.” At his words, he actually runs his thumb along my elbow. I yank away, then stand in shock, staring at him.

  “What the hell, Rick?” I demand. “Don’t touch me.”

  Rick just stares at me, then laughs. “And there’s the ice queen that I divorced. Don’t touch me, Rick. Not tonight, Rick. I have a migraine, Rick. And you wonder why I went outside of our marriage to get fulfillment? It’s because you never satisfied me, Allison. A man needs fulfillment.”

  I stare at him, in utter shock and disgust.

  “Somehow, Rick, that’s not the way I remember it at all. In fact, I remember having sex two or three times a week, many of those times when I was drop-dead tired, but I never complained. I remember going away for weekends- just the two of us- where we had plentiful sex. I even thought it was good sex at the time, but since you’ve been gone, I’ve discovered that sex with you was never good. I just didn’t know any better. But I do now. You can’t blame your cheating ways on me. It’s your fault, not mine.”

  Rick stares at me calmly, seemingly unfazed by my biting words.

  “You know, when you get bitchy, the crow’s feet around your eyes really start to show up. You should avoid doing that if you want to hide the tired hag that you actually are.”

  I am beyond pissed now, but by this point, Sophie has climbed out of the water and is coming our way. I know that I can’t say anything in reply and Rick knows it too. He smirks at me.

  Colby walks behind Sophie, his eyes on my face. He can tell that I’m agitated. He narrows his eyes.

  “Daddy!” Sophie calls. “Did you see my Butterfly?”

  Rick gives me one last glare before turning around.

  “Yes, I did. It’s coming along famously. And this must be the swim coach I’m paying for.”

  Ugh. Leave it to Rick to reduce everything to money. How did I stay with him for so long? I want to literally slap myself in the forehead.

  “Hello, sir,” Colby says, sticking out his hand. “I’m Colby. And yes, I’m the swim coach. Your daughter is doing fabulously. I think you’ll be pleased at her progress.”

  “I’m sure,” Rick says coolly. He shakes Colby’s hand, but briefly. Then he turns to Sophie, very pointedly ignoring Colby by turning his back on him.

  And I know why.

  Rick is a very shallow, very insecure man. Being in the presence of a young and amazingly fit and handsome guy like Colby is wreaking havoc on Rick’s self-confidence. Particularly since Colby is still in his swim trunks. There’s not an ounce of fat on him and he’s got a rippling six-pack across his abdomen. And I know for a fact that Rick has a beer gut that he is very, very self-conscious of. Colby is tall and lean and beautiful and Rick is aging as we speak. This situation almost makes up for Rick’s jab about my crow’s feet.

  Almost.

  “Sophie, let’s go get your stuff. Vanessa is waiting for us- we’ve got dinner reservations in town.”

  And they turn and walk away. Rick doesn’t say another thing to me and enters my house like it is still his own. I grit my teeth.

  “Are you alright?” Colby asks, glancing at my face. “Your ex is a real asshat.”

  I smile at the term. “Yes, he is. Now imagine being married to that piece of asshat for the past fifteen years.”

  Colby shakes his head. “Temporary insanity?”

  He grins.

  “Can fifteen years be classified as temporary?” I answer.

  Colby shrugs. “I guess it depends on perspective. If you look at the long scheme of things, then fifteen years is temporary if you’re looking at an entire lifespan. Just think. If you had played your cards right, you could still be with that gem.”

  I shudder. Literally shudder. Colby laughs and puts his hand on my arm.

  “But you’re not with him. Because you played your cards right. And here you are with me.”

  Yes, because I’m paying you, I think. But I don’t say that. I smile instead.

  “You’re right. I should most definitely count my blessings. Would you like a beer or something? I’m going in to say goodbye to Sophie, but I’ll be back in a second.”

  Colby smiles. “I have no place to be,” he announces. “I had a cancelation for tonight, so my evening is free. Would you like to hang out and watch movies?”

  I stare at him.

  “Just me and you, hanging out, like friends?” I ask.

  He grins again and I’d like to lick his lips.

  “Aren’t we friends?”

  I stare at him again. “I guess so. I hadn’t thought of it that way. But I guess we are.”

  “And don’t friends hang out?” Colby reasons. “I’m not Shade right now, I’m Colby.”

  I nod slowly. “Of course. Colby and Allison can be friends. Shade and Alli Cat can’t, because they are client and clientele.”

  “Now you’re getting it,” Colby answers, chuckling. “It’s how I separate the crazy in my life.”

  I have to laugh. “I’m going to have to take lessons,” I answer. “Because the crazy in my life is getting out of hand.”

  Colby (not Shade!) takes a seat as I pad into the house, pulling on a shirt as I go. I don’t feel the need to have Rick the Dick ogle me again. I still want to bathe in iodine from the first time.

  I find Rick strolling down the hallway, away from my bedroom.

  “What are you doing?” I ask suspiciously. “You have no need to be in my bedroom.”

  “Oh, don’t I know it,” Rick answers with a scowl. “I was hunting for my favorite silver cufflinks- the ones my mother gave to me for my college graduation. They mysteriously vanished when I moved out.”

  “Did you find them?” I raise an eyebrow. Rick shakes his head.

  “No, but I found your little friend.”

  I’m confused for a second until I see his smug grin.

  “You know, you should have said that your ‘great sex’ that you’ve b
een having is with your new dildo.” Rick smiles, an evil, disgusting smile. He’s so sure that he is God’s gift to women. It makes me want to puke.

  And then he tosses it to me. Rick was holding Geronimo in his bare hands? I’m going to have to swab it with alcohol before its next use. Or maybe I’ll just buy a new one.

  “Oh, this,” I reply, as nonchalantly as I can while holding a giant dildo in my hand. “This is what I use on the nights when I’m too tired to go out. My new boyfriend wears me out.”

  Rick stares at me, trying to decide if I’m telling him the truth or not.

  “If you really do have a new boyfriend,” he says, “Then I need to meet him if he’s going to be around Sophie. That’s in our divorce agreement. YOU put that in our divorce agreement.”

  I smile angelically. Or I hope it is angelically.

  “Yes, I did, didn’t I? And when I decide that it’s time for Sophie to meet him, I’ll arrange a meeting with you, as well.”

  Rick glares at me. “I can’t wait to tell your newest victim all about you.”

  I roll my eyes and start to reply when Sophie comes out from her bedroom. I shove Geronimo behind my back.

  “Can you guys stop arguing please?” she demands. “I hate it. I thought it was going to stop when you got divorced.”

  I instantly feel guilty, particularly given what I’m holding. Mom of the year, right here.

  “I’m sorry, Soph,” I tell her sincerely. “I didn’t know you could hear.”

  She glances at me. “Of course I can hear. I’m not deaf and you’re right outside of my room. And dad, stay out of mom’s room. It’s not your bedroom anymore. Her dildos are her business, not yours.”

  I want to freaking die. My cheeks flood with color and Rick glances at me, laughter in his eyes. Sophie didn’t mean to make him happy with that remark, but she so, so did. I’m seething inside as Rick makes gestures behind Sophie’s back of himself using a dildo. Only, he’s pretending to be me, obviously.

  So, obviously, I do what any mature women would do. I make a motion that I’m stabbing him in the head with a butcher knife. But in this case, I’m using my dildo.

  We both drop our hands when Sophie turns abruptly around. “You know there’s a mirror in front of us, right?”

  Fuck. She’s right. I should definitely know, since I’m the one who hung it at the end of the hall.

  Mom of the year, right freaking here.

  She rolls her eyes and turns around, dragging her over-night bag behind her. In the kitchen, she turns and kisses my cheek.

  “Are you going to be alright?” she asks. I am surprised by her moment of thinking outside of herself. Teenagers are, as a whole, self-absorbed monsters. I smile at her.

  “I’ll be fine,” I tell her. “Really. Your dad and I are fine. We just argue from time to time.”

  And pretend to kill each other in mime.

  With dildos.

  That’s normal, right?

  She shakes her head again. “Okay. I’ll be home tomorrow. I have my cell if you need me.”

  “I’m fine, honey,” I insist. “Honestly.”

  She smiles and leaves with her father, who doesn’t say another word. I can’t believe that Sophie is concerned for me. Is my little monster growing up into a compassionate human being?

  I am smiling to myself at that thought when I remember Shade. Colby. Crap.

  I drop Geronimo back into my room and then hurry back out to the patio to find him settled into a lounger, scrolling through his phone.

  “Hi,” he grins. “Everything okay?”

  I smile back.

  “Everything is fine. Want to go in the house? Should we go out and eat or should we order in… or?”

  He shrugs. “Whatever you were planning to do.”

  I was going to order takeout, eat every bit of it, watch a chick-flick so that I can cry my guts out in order to stabilize my emotional health and then probably use the services of Geronimo.

  But I don’t say that.

  “I was just going to get Chinese,” I tell him. “And then eat it in front of the TV.”

  “Sounds like heaven,” he tells me. “You know what? There’s an old horror movie marathon on tonight.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Are you trying to say we should watch it because I’m old and so I’ll feel right at home?”

  He looks appalled. “No, of course not! I---“

  I interrupt. “I’m kidding, obviously.” I laugh. “I’m not old. I’m in my sexual prime, remember?” I smile. “Old horror movies? You like those?”

  He nods. “My dad and I used to stay up late and watch them when I was little. It’s a good memory that I have.”

  “And you don’t have any good memories of him now?”

  For some reason, it sounded like that is what he meant. He shrugs.

  “My dad and I just don’t see eye to eye right now. He wants me to do things that I don’t want to do. But I’m not exactly sure what I want to do, so that’s the problem.”

  “Does he know about this?” I gesture toward him, but he knows what I mean.

  “He doesn’t know about Shade. Hell no. No one in my family does.”

  I nod as I open the patio door and we walk in.

  “That must get stressful.”

  I pour us each a drink.

  “Not so much,” Colby answers. “I just keep my life compartmentalized. It’s pretty easy.”

  “Again, can you give me lessons?” I ask with a small laugh. Shade laughs too.

  “I already gave you a lesson last night,” he answers. “Isn’t one lesson a week enough?”

  Memories from last night flood through me and weaken my knees. And I have to agree.

  “You’re right. This pupil is ready for a rest. Come on- I’ll show you to the media room.”

  “I like the sound of that,” Colby answers as he pulls on his shirt. He sounds tired.

  I show him the way and then run back upstairs to throw on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. Hey, don’t judge. He told me to do what I would’ve done if he weren’t here. My plans definitely involved my favorite sweatpants.

  And so, that is how our night begins. With me in sweats curled up next to Colby under a warm blanket. My media room is always chilly, so I always keep fuzzy blankets available and tonight, it certainly comes in handy.

  We pop popcorn and share each other’s Chinese. We then watch goofy old movies until Colby decides that I need to learn to make jello shots, because they are apparently delicious and a necessity in life. So we run up to the kitchen and mix up a batch, leaving them in the fridge to set up while we watch another movie.

  After the stupidest and corniest horror movie in the history of the earth is finally over, we return to the kitchen to try our handiwork.

  Colby hands me a cherry one, while he takes a lime.

  “Why did you have these little cups on hand, anyway?” he asks me as he pops the lid off.

  “Honestly, I don’t remember,” I tell him. “I think Sophie needed them for a fundraiser that she was doing for her cheerleading squad last year.”

  “Well, here’s to cheerleading then,” Colby toasts with his little plastic cup. And then he scoops the jello out with his tongue. I do the same.

  I nod, processing the flavor. “I can barely taste the vodka,” I tell him. He nods back.

  “That’s the point,” he says. He hands me another. “That’s why they go down so smoothly.”

  We again scoop the jello out with our tongues. I can’t help but watch Colby’s tongue. I know personally that it is a very skilled tongue. But tonight, he is Colby. And things are different when he is Colby, I remind myself. And I should probably be concerned that I’m spending my Saturday night hanging out with a young gigolo.

  But apparently, jello shots have a way of sneaking up on you and changing the way you previously thought of something.

  Because as Colby and I laugh and joke, we manage to do several (as in ten) more jello shots each. And then one
of us (me) decides that we should do body-shots because I’ve never done one.

  “Seriously, I tell him. “Can you show me how? Because I think it’s a life skill that one ought to have.”

  I’m drunk. And I’m a big enough person to say that I’m drunk.

  “I’m drunk,” I add. “And that’s definitely a good time to learn to do a body shot.”

  Colby looks at me, studying me. He’s oh-so-handsome. And it’s easy to forget, in this moment, that he is younger than me. And that I should only think of him this way when he’s Shade. Because damn, he’s sexy. I take a deep breath.

  Colby smiles. “You’re right. A body shot is a life skill that you should definitely master. Come on- I’ll do one on you to demonstrate and then you can do one on me. Do you have tequila?”

  I nod, suddenly very fascinated by the prospect of this lesson.

  “Do you have salt and limes?”

  Again, I nod as Colby searches through the kitchen. As he does, I clean off the granite breakfast bar. He turns around with all of the supplies that we need and finds me stripping down.

  He raises an eyebrow.

  “I don’t want to get tequila on my favorite sweats,” I shrug innocently. Which of course doesn’t explain why I’m stripping off my panties and bra, too.

  I’m so going to hell.

  He laughs and helps me onto the bar. I stretch my feet out and put my arms behind my head. The granite is cold beneath me and I shiver.

  “Want me to warm you up?” Colby asks, his gaze wicked. He’s looking at me with a Shade-like stare and I shiver again.

  Then nod.

  I’m shameless.

  I have no shame.

  I’m going to hell.

  I am chanting these things silently in my head. And when Colby strips off his shirt, I stop chanting. I can’t help it. The guy is gorgeous. And distracting.

  He shrugs. “I don’t want to get tequila on my favorite t-shirt.”

  Warmth instantly floods my nether-region as he presses against my side. His skin is warm and firm.

  He cuts a lime wedge and places it between my teeth. Then he shakes some salt around my breasts, concentrating quite a lot on my nipples. And then he pours tequila into my navel. I silently thank God that I am a very meticulous belly-button washer.

 

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