Cocksure

by K. I. Lynn

  Once he’s gone, I flop down into my new desk chair and blow away the lock of hair that’s come loose. I quickly pulled my hair up this morning, not wanting to have to deal with blowing it out.

  I have a few boxes that were sent over from my old office in California to unpack. That should help me kill some time before IT shows up. I’m about to start on the first box when a text message comes through from my personal cell phone. I pick my purse up and pull out it out, putting it on silent while I’m at work. I look and see that it was a text from Cameron.

  Cameron: Have a great first day at your new job, kiddo! Lunch today?

  I smile and type a reply.

  Everly: I wish, but I’ve actually got a lot to do. Going to just have a quick sandwich at my desk. You know, first day and all :)

  Cameron: Tomorrow then?

  Everly: Cam . . .

  Cameron: What? I just want to spend some more time with my kid sister. Stay caught up, ya know?

  Yes, I do know. Cameron wants to continue to grill me more on why I’m here and why he and my parents only found out about my coming home a week before I got here. I sigh and try to think of what to tell him. I’ve told him pretty much everything he needs to know already, and honestly, I’m just ready to forget about all the reasons I’m home. What’s the point of starting new if all I do is continue to be reminded of the things I want to leave in the past?

  I can’t say that to him now. It will only make him more concerned, and then he’ll hover.

  Everly: You are caught up. I promise, and sister. Not kid sister. :/ I’m far from a child Cameron. You are the only one that can’t seem to remember that . . . BTW, don’t you have fires to put out?

  Cameron: Yeah, okay. I’m going to hold you to that. KID. And yes, but I’m on nights this week.

  I shake my head even though it’s impossible for my brother to see my frustration and annoyance at his constant reminder that he still thinks of me as the little kid that always followed him and Niko around. I’ll be one hundred years old before he figures out I’m not her anymore, but that’s a battle for another day. For now, I’ll ignore it.

  Everly: I know. Talk soon! Maybe next week?

  Cameron: Sounds like a plan. :D

  Thinking of Cam and Niko back then brings thoughts of the Niko of the present. I’d love to say that the night I spent with Niko has put me off wanting him again, but I’d be lying. If anything, I’ve had to wrestle myself from jumping in my car and showing up at his place in hopes of round two, but I stop myself. I couldn’t do that again, even if Aly has been harping on me to let loose and screw everything else. I need to keep myself busy. No more thoughts of Niko!

  I go to place my cell back in my bag when it vibrates in my hand. Expecting more from my brother, I’m surprised when I see a text from Alyson.

  Alyson: Drinks tonight! Let’s celebrate your new job and your homecoming!

  I shake my head before typing a reply.

  Everly: It’s Monday.

  I reply. Aly, never slow on the draw, my phone vibrates seconds later.

  Alyson: What’s your point?

  Everly: It’s Monday! That’s my point. Unlike you, I can’t sleep all day.

  Alyson: Hey! I work nights. Speaking of . . . I rarely take a night off, but I am for you. So . . . Let’s celebrate my dearest friend in the whole world comin’ home :D

  I’m barely through reading her text when another one pops through.

  Alyson: Say yes. You know you want to. ;) Do it! Say yes! *Giving you my puppy dog eyes here* Pleaseeeeeeee

  I can see her face now, and I want to laugh at her antics, but instead, I give in. As usual.

  Everly: Okay. But I’m buying dinner first! No argument from you! Then we can celebrate with one glass of wine. I still have to be up early tomorrow.

  Alyson: Fine on the dinner :/ but Yay!! Promise I’ll be on my best behavior . . . and I’ll make sure you are too! ;) BTW we are so working on getting you to that bad girls club graduation! Even if it’s not tonight! :D

  Yeah, I’m sure she’s going to try. I’m so not fooled, but I’ll go anyway because I’ve missed Aly just as much as everyone else here. I know Alyson has gone through something. She’s more than likely still dealing with it. I can’t pretend to relate, but I have a feeling it’s more than she wants to share with me, and Aly has used our distance over the past few years to hide it.

  We were only in our sophomore year of college when the call came. I still remember the night. It was a Tuesday, just before midnight. We were watching a movie after finishing our assignments that were due the next day, nearly nodding off due to an early morning class and being up so late before that, studying for finals.

  She left the next day rather than taking finals. Aly left school to bury her brother, telling me she’d be back, but she never returned.

  Since then our friendship has survived three thousand miles apart and a lot of change.

  I’d still do anything for her, but she never allows me to help, so I just do my part as a friend, and listen whenever she needs me. That’s not often, though, because Aly is as stubborn and proud as they come. I blow out a breath and type a quick text off to her.

  Everly: See you tonight. Xx

  Now, let me see what I can do with my office. My home away from home. Because come tomorrow, I’m sure I’ll have the hangover from hell once Miss Alyson Payne gets done with me and her way of celebrating.

  “LET’S GO TO THE pub tonight,” Cam says as he falls on the couch next to me.

  I shake my head. “Nah, not tonight.”

  “Not tonight? Bro, you haven’t been interested in doing shit lately. What’s your deal? How can you not be interested in having a few drinks and maybe finding some hot chick to work out your frustrations on? Seriously, what the fuck crawled up your ass? You’ve been a pissy, mopey shit for a week.”

  “Just not in the mood.”

  “When was the last time you got laid? Don’t tell me it was the chick with the Post-it note.”

  Fuck him.

  “Damn,” Cam says with a shake of his head. “She fucked you good, and more than just the way she rode your cock.”

  “Mind your business, Cameron.”

  “This is my business. You’re bringing down everyone around you, man. If that shit is contagious, I don’t want it. You need something to counteract it, and fast before someone else catches whatever you have too!”

  “Dude, you don’t understand.”

  “You’re right about that shit. I don’t understand. It’s not the end of the fucking world, Niko. Shake that shit off and do it fast. The guys are starting to talk.”

  Yeah, only because he went and ran his mouth to them all like a gossiping old lady, but I keep that shit to myself. I’m not in the mood for Cameron and his crap right now. He’s not wrong about one thing. This has gone on too long as it is, but hell if I can stop my thoughts of her from popping into my head.

  “I can’t stop thinking about her.”

  “Seriously? You?”

  “What?”

  “You’re the cockiest motherfucker I know, and you’re telling me some chick finally knocked you down?”

  “Shut up,” I grumble as I grind my teeth.

  “The world is coming to an end.” He opens his arms and turns to the rest of the room. “Hear me, brothers, the world is ending! The notorious half-breed Nikolas Callahan had his ego torn in half by a woman.”

  I turn and glare at him. “I cannot wait for the day when a woman knocks your high and mighty self on your ass.”

  “Never going to happen,” he says with a smirk and a shake of his head. “I’m too smart for that shit, unlike you. Apparently, I’ve taught you nothing.” He stares at me with one eyebrow cocked, daring me to say more. I know this is pointless now, so I give in. Mostly to shut him up, and the other side is hoping I can snap myself out of this funk Alyson left me in.

  “Fine, asshole, I’ll go.”

  “There ya go! You just need to get b
ack on the horse, man. I think your problem is she left you and not the other way around. She became a challenge to you, and one that you can’t do anything about because you have nothing on her. Shrug it off, Niko. You’ll meet another hot chick, get her under you, and Miss Post-it note will be history.”

  “Yeah. You’re right. I know you’re right.” I nod, hoping it’s true.

  “Damn straight I’m right! I’ve never steered you wrong, and as long as we’ve been friends, that’s saying something. All will be back to normal, and you, my friend, will be back to your old self in no time.”

  “Yeah.”

  There’s a bar not far from the firehouse that is always full of prime pickup opportunities. I smile down at the blonde sitting beside me, not feeling her. She’s all right looking, I guess, but I love the way her eyes widen and her cheeks flush when I speak to her. The problem is, my dick just isn’t interested. Try as I might to be my normal charismatic self, it’s just not there. I’m forcing it.

  Yeah, I want to get off, but I don’t want her. The problem is, when I’m home all thoughts turn to Alyson. Those thoughts turn my dick hard as a rock, and the fucked-up part is we only had one night together.

  It’s so bad that I have to take more than one shower to relieve the ache in my balls or I’m afraid I won’t be able to walk. More than once since I’ve had Alyson, I’ve beat my cock senseless in the shower with thoughts of her and that night. Sometimes more than once.

  It’s fucking pathetic.

  I want her. Memories of that night flood my mind. Those lips. Those beautiful fucking red lips! Jesus, this chick has me twisted. I hate it, but if I get the chance to see her again, I’m taking her, and this time she won’t know what hit her.

  Two beers down and I need something stronger, ordering two shots of cognac. While I wait, I scroll through my phone list, desperate to stop thinking about her. Valarie is always down to play, and so is Chloe. I don’t usually hook up more than once, but I know that both women are on board with straight friends with benefits. No attachments, just always down for a good time. The way I’ve lived my life before I met Alyson.

  The chick next to me continues to chatter away about this and that, and I’m at the point where I’m being rude and completely zoning her out. I should feel bad, but I don’t. Something has to give. I can’t keep this up.

  Usually, I’m not still here conversing with a woman this long that I plan on fucking. We both know what we want, get going, get off, and then we both go our separate ways once we’re completely satisfied. End of story, but I’m just not feeling this.

  I look over to where Cam was only twenty minutes ago, and the spot where he was sitting is now empty. Both he and the brunette he was talking to are nowhere in sight. Well, at least someone is getting lucky tonight. Me, on the other hand, I’m done. I take my wallet out and raise my hand to the bartender. She heads over to me, and I settle out my tab as well as the woman sitting next to me. It’s the least I can do after wasting her time.

  She starts to grab her handbag from the back of her seat when I stop her. “Are we going to your place or mine?” she asks, giving me what I’m sure she thinks is a sultry sex look, but now that I look at her, I realize she’s got a face full of some filler. And those lips of hers look so overfilled that I’m sure they’d either pop once wrapped around my cock or float into the air, taking my dick with them like some balloon festival. Not happening.

  “Sorry, doll face.” That’s exactly what she reminds me of now that I’ve paid attention to her. “But I’m riding solo tonight. I’ve got an early shift in the morning, and I’m tired. Maybe some other time, yeah?” I say it, but I don’t mean that shit. She pouts or tries to sulk, but she just looks wrong doing it. Her lips look like they’re over-stuffed Italian sausages, and not the hot kind. There is nothing spicy about this chick.

  “Raincheck, then?”

  “Yeah, sure. I’ll see you around, ummm, Carla?” Fuck, I can’t even remember her name. I’m such an asshole.

  “Carrie,” she says with a little annoyance, but not enough to let me see that she’s still down if I change my mind. Well, at least it started with a C. That’s something.

  She grabs a pen and napkin from the bar and scribbles something down on it before tucking the folded napkin into my pants pocket. She lingers close to my cock, and for a minute I think I feel him stir to life, but no such luck. Her strained smile ruins it, and I’m ready to get the hell out of there. “Call me anytime tonight if you change your mind or can’t sleep. I’ve got all kinds of sleeping aides that would help someone like you.”

  “Yeah, sure,” I say, not meaning a word of it. “I’ll let you know. Enjoy the rest of your night, Carla.”

  “It’s Carrie!” she says to my back as I walk away.

  I don’t bother looking behind me, praying Cam took off so he doesn’t witness my great escape from thunder lips. I just need to go home. Maybe go for a run to burn off some steam. Hit the shower and head to bed.

  I’m almost out the door when I hear a familiar laugh. I stop where I am, and I take a look around, scanning the bar. Nothing. Just the girl I left a few minutes ago giving me the death stare. I ignore her and start looking toward the other side of the pub where folks sit away from the bar to eat.

  It’s then I see her. My Cinderella. Only she didn’t leave a glass slipper behind. No, nothing as classy and traditional as a shoe. My girl got original and left a Post-it note on my dick. Speaking of my dick, the woman I wasted half my night with put my cock to sleep. All of a sudden, my boy is wide awake and instantly hard as I watch her laugh and smile with her friend.

  I’m struck stupid, and I have no idea what to do. I know what I want to do, but I’m pretty sure that won’t go over well with her. I look around, again searching for Cameron, but he’s no longer inside. Good, because I don’t feel like dealing with his shit when it comes to this chick. He’d more than likely embarrass the shit out of me and say something to her. I don’t want that.

  I walk over to the other side of the bar away from Alyson and her friend’s view, but I make sure I can still see them. I wave the bartender over, and the attentive tip-seeking woman that she is comes right away with her pearly whites flashing me. Not tonight, sweetheart. I’ve got my eye on a much bigger prize.

  “Change your mind?”

  “Not exactly.” I smile. “Can you send over two more of whatever the ladies at that table are having and put it on my card?”

  She looks over at Alyson and her friend, smiles, and then takes my card. “Sure thing. Want me to let them know who sent them?”

  I think about it for a second when I see, of all things, a pack of pink Post-it notes next to the register behind the bar. That’s when the idea hits me. “Actually, can I borrow one of the sticky notes over there?” She looks behind her and then back at me, grabbing the pack and placing it in front of me. I smile at her and grab the pen she places next to them before heading off to make their drinks.

  I quickly scribble my note, smiling wide, proud of myself for having such quick wit. I’m no longer that guy that’s been like the walking dead. Time to flip the script on this girl. The waitress comes over and grabs the drinks from the bartender to bring over to her table. I reach out and stick the Post-it on one, igniting the look the waitress is giving me before she takes her tray and leaves. I want to stick around and see her reaction, but I decide to leave it in her hands. At this point, I’m just happy to be on even ground again. Alyson-one. Niko-one.

  Tomorrow is another day. We had one night, that’s all. That’s what I’ve been telling myself, but now that I’ve seen her again, I know that’s not all. Let’s just hope that Cinderella is ready to play another round.

  I take off out the side door, completely avoiding Alyson and her friend. I reach my bike out back, pull my helmet on, and then throw my leg over the seat.

  I love to ride. It’s the one thing other than running that helps me clear my head. I start her up and get the hell out of there, he
ading for my place. It only takes a few minutes to get home, and, after parking next to my Tahoe, I head toward my front door, keys out, ready to walk in when I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. For a minute my heart starts to race with the thought of Alyson actually calling me once she read my note, but the feeling quickly goes away when I see who it is.

  The screen is lit up with an incoming call from Cam. With a push of a button, I send it to voicemail and stick the key in my door, flicking on the light once I enter. I’m not even going to pretend that I’m not disappointed it wasn’t her, but I am. Honestly, I don’t expect to hear from her right away, but hey, a man can hope.

  After kicking off my shoes, I head straight to the fridge for a beer. I fall onto my couch and take a long gulp while I think about how fucked up this situation is. I’m sitting around pining for a girl I fucked once, know nothing about, and who left a Post-it note, mainly thanking me for my services.

  I feel used. But fuck if I don’t want her to use me again. Like some kind of a gigolo except the only payment I get is mind-blowing sex. Probably the best sex I’ve had in my life, and that’s saying something seeing as I’m no saint.

  The beer isn’t going to do it, so I grab a bottle of Courvoisier from the cabinet, pour two fingers, and down it in one gulp.

  A minute later, and there is a ping from my cell indicating I’ve got a voicemail. That took a minute, so I know Cam left me something long-winded that I don’t feel like hearing right now. Soon after, I hear a different ping telling me I have a text message. Curiosity gets the best of me and I get up to grab my cell, wishing I didn’t once I read it.

  Cameron: You left???

  Then four more come in one right after the other, indicating he’s frustrated with my lack of company this evening.

  Cameron: Alone???

  Cameron: What the fuck, man?

  Cameron: Grow a pair and snap out of this shit!

  Cameron: There is no such thing as pussy whipped after one fucking night!

  I decided to try and save face by replying, hoping he’ll lay off me with the BS, but no such luck.