My Forever (Our Forever Book 3)

by Elena Matthews

  “I sent you a text last night.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  “I did,” I argue as if I were all of ten years old.

  “I swear to you, you didn’t send me a text. Check for yourself.”

  I feel my phone vibrate with a text message against my ear. I pause the FaceTime call and look at the screenshot she just texted. The last message from me was from two days go.

  “That’s weird. I could have sworn I sent you a text message,” I muse as my eyes drift down to the bottom of the iMessage and see my text still waiting to be sent. Damn that stupid Send button. I click back onto my FaceTime and roll my eyes. “Sorry, it seems I typed it out but never sent it. I forgive you for me thinking you were a terrible friend.”

  She barks out a laugh. “You forgive me for not responding to a text message I didn’t know about?”

  My chest begins to shake with a silent laugh. “Yes, I was pretty mad at you,” I joke.

  “So, what did the text say?”

  I lean forward and put my half-eaten food on the coffee table before sitting back, pulling my legs beneath me. “It doesn’t even matter now,” I say, brushing it off because it doesn’t matter anymore. I should just pass it off as a one-night stand and move on to the next guy, but something in my gut tells me it’s not as simple as that.

  “Why? What happened?” She takes a sip of water from a glass before setting it down.

  I let out a heavy sigh. “You remember the guy from New Year’s, Tyler’s friend who played for the Dallas Stars?”

  “Yeah, Chase something or other.”

  “Chase Henderson,” I purposefully enunciate as if it were a crime she didn’t know his full name. God, when did I become such a fangirl?

  “What about him?”

  “Well, I met with Penelope last night to watch the end of the Cowboys game, and he was there at the bar. We hit it off again, just like we had on New Year’s. I might have demonstrated some of my flexibility by doing the splits, standing up, in the middle of the bar.” I grin, and she raises her brow with a giggle. “I’d had a few tequila shots at that point, so I blame my sexy move on that. We spent pretty much the entire night talking and flirting; unlike last time though, he was very much not married, but it seems he’s still just as unavailable.”

  “What do you mean, still just as unavailable?”

  “I wish I knew. He said something about how his life is a fucked up mess, but he never got into the specifics, so last night ended the same way New Year’s did. We just had such an incredible connection. It sucked to have to walk away again.”

  “I’m sorry, babe.”

  “What’s worse is that I’m fairly certain he felt the connection, too. He wasn’t just blowing me off and making excuses because he didn’t want to see me again. He didn’t just sleep with me and run. Hell, he didn’t even kiss me. I’ve had guys blow me off with every excuse under the sun, and last night wasn’t that. It probably would have been easier if he had slept with me, given me some bullshit excuse, and never called me back. I’ve spent my whole adult life wanting a guy to make me feel the fireworks and have an explosive connection with, and now that I’ve found that guy, I don’t even have a shot with him. God, my luck with men has reached an all-time low.”

  “You really like this guy, huh?”

  “Too much, and it feels ridiculous to feel this way after only being in his presence twice, but the heart wants what it wants. I’ll be thirty-five in less than a month, and I’m nowhere near to what you have with Drew. It’s like I can hear time running out. Instead of kids, I’ll have a house full of cats. I’ll be a cat lady!” I shriek, panic getting the best of me. “And I hate cats!”

  As I bury my face in my hand, quiet chuckling can be heard, and I shoot my head up, staring daggers at my best friend.

  “You find this funny?” I ask, not impressed.

  Jo tilts her head to the side and smiles sadly. “No, I’m not laughing at you. It’s just, you will never be a cat lady. You’re too sexy and amazing to be a cat lady, and as your best friend, I would never let you hit rock bottom like that. You’re just having a hard time right now, what with the breakup with Teddy and now your feelings for Chase.”

  “Ugh, you’re right. You know what? Maybe I should just become a lesbian. No more guy drama. What do you think? You fancy batting for the other team for me? I love a good friend-to-lover story.”

  I’m smiling a Cheshire cat grin while she throws her head back with a laugh.

  Suddenly, Drew peers over Jo’s shoulder, looking at me with a raised brow, a smirk pulling at his lips. “You trying to steal my fiancée away from me?”

  “I was trying, but I think she’s too in love with you to ever turn to pussy even though mine would be the best pussy she ever had.” I wink, earning me a deep chuckle from him and hysterical laughter from Jo.

  “I’ll have to disagree with you on that because Jo has the best pussy.”

  “Oh my God, you two, I swear!” Jo exclaims.

  “What?” I ask innocently, batting my eyelashes. “If I were to become a lesbian, you’re the only person I’d want to share my life with. You’re my sexy mama.”

  “Now that I think about it, the idea of you two being lesbians together does have its appeal.”

  I giggle when Jo playfully smacks Drew on the head.

  “Ow.” He laughingly groans, and I continue cackling while I watch them both on my phone.

  “You, leave,” Jo tells Drew, glaring at him, “and you,” she says, aiming her eyes on me, “you’re not going to become a cat lady, and you would never handle it as a lesbian because you hate women.”

  I don’t hate women, but women tend not to like me. When a stranger hates on me with just a single look in my direction, I take it personally. “Yeah, you’re right; being with another woman would drive me insane. I have enough of a battle dealing with myself. Fuck it, I don’t need men or women. I have myself, and I just bought myself a new sex toy, so that can be my new boyfriend.”

  “Another one?” she deadpans. “You’ll be able to open a sex shop with the amount you own.”

  I scoff. “I don’t have that many. I have a dildo, a massager, a bunny, and a butt plug. You know, the pretty ones with the gem. Seriously, you should get one. It’s great if you’re not really into anal but like a bit of adventure in your sex life, which, of course, you do; you’re getting married to a fox.”

  “Yes! Let’s get a butt plug,” Drew says in the background.

  Jo throws him an amused look before looking back at me. “Stop giving him ideas. He’s dirty enough without you encouraging him.”

  I grin widely. “I bet he is.”

  “I am changing the subject. Your birthday!” she begins, putting a lid on the sex-toy talk. “It’s only a few weeks away. What do you want to do?”

  I shrug, not enjoying this new subject change. “Honestly, I don’t think I want to do anything. Getting old doesn’t really seem like a good occasion to celebrate.”

  “Kaelyn, it’s your birthday. We have to do something. Plus, I barely get to have real face time with you since I moved to Austin. We don’t even have to do anything fancy—or even go out for that matter. In fact, we still need to set a date to go dress shopping for the wedding, so maybe I can come and stay the whole weekend, do some wedding and birthday stuff while Junior does guy stuff with Drew. What do you say?”

  I feel like the worst best friend in the world. With the whole breakup with Teddy a few weeks ago, I kind of zoned out with real life and totally forgot we still hadn’t set up a date to go dress shopping.

  They got engaged in May, but with a house move and several months of renovations, they’ve only just gotten around to picking a date. It’s November now, and June isn’t really that far away. Luckily, Jo’s an event planner, so if anyone can organize an amazing wedding at such short notice, it’s definitely her.

  “That sounds perfect.”

  For the next hour or so, we talk all things weddings,
and regardless of my disastrous love life, knowing my best friend is to marry the love of her life, I honestly couldn’t be happier. Who knows? Maybe I’ll meet my Prince Charming at the wedding and live happily ever after. Although who am I kidding? I doubt I would catch a frog, let alone a Prince Charming.

  I let out a huge yawn, and when I glance at the clock that sits on my mantelpiece above the fire I see it’s nearing midnight.

  “I love you, but this girl needs her beauty sleep,” I announce, stretching my tired muscles.

  “Shit, I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t realize it was getting so late.”

  “It’s okay. I needed a girlie chat with my bestie. So, you’re staying the weekend after Thanksgiving then?”

  “Yes,” she confirms with an excited smile.

  “I’ll be sure to schedule you in my diary—you know, because of all the dates I don’t have.”

  Jo rolls her eyes. “If you like this guy so much, then don’t let him scare you away with a little baggage. Since when do you give up at the first hurdle, huh? If you want him, make it happen. There’s not a single man on this earth—well, except for mine—that you couldn’t get with a click of your fingers. You’re incredible, and don’t let your failed relationship with Teddy make you doubt it. And I’m not just saying it because I’m the Yang to your Grey, the Monica to your Rachel, the Brooke to your Peyton.”

  I let out a breathless laugh as she names our favorite BFFs from three of the best programs we’ve spent many of our girls’ nights binge-watching.

  “I’m saying it because it’s true. You’re amazing in every single way, and if I were to switch teams, you’d be the girl I went to. I love you. You’re my Kaelyn.”

  I swallow down the tears I feel forming at the back of my throat, overcome with emotion for my best friend. “I love you, too.”

  When we end our call and I finally tumble into bed, I let Jo’s words sink in. She’s right; I’m never one to give up. In order to get what I want, I have to fight for it. But the real question, is a man I barely know, yet have an intense connection with worth fighting for?

  Porn and Boobs

  Kaelyn

  “There’s my baby girl!”

  As soon as I step into my childhood home, smelling every bit like the Thanksgivings I’ve come to love over the years, I’m enveloped into my mom’s arms.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  She steps back, keeping me at arm’s length as she gives me a good inspection, the wrinkles around her eyes crinkling even further with disapproval. “You’re not eating enough.”

  I smile, knowing she’s right. I eat three meals a day, but I never eat enough of what is on my plate. “Well, it’s a good job you’re going to feed me up. You know Thanksgiving is my favorite day when it comes to your cooking.”

  Without warning, I let out a girlie scream when I’m scooped up in a bear hug.

  “My sister, alive in the flesh!” comes from my brother Nate. He lifts me off the ground and twirls me around in a circle.

  When he sets me on my feet, I take him in, his muscles and all, and I swear, my little brother continues to grow even though he’s twenty-seven. Hell, he’s no longer little; he hasn’t been for a long time. He must be at least six-two while I stand idle at a pathetic five foot five. I take after my mom when it comes to my height, but my four brothers take after my dad. Tall and built like linebackers.

  “Jesus, have you been taking steroids or something? You’re fucking huge.”

  He gives me his charming smile, the same charming smile he’s been using since he realized he was a heartbreaker at sixteen. “No, just pure protein and weights.”

  “You’re such a stereotypical fireman. You just need some baby oil and a Magic Mike soundtrack, and you’d be all set.”

  “What about you, pole dancing for a living? Dad must be so proud,” he mocks.

  Even though he’s twice my size, I don’t hesitate to shove his shoulder. “Asshole, I teach it, not strip!”

  He chuckles. “Didn’t realize there was a difference.”

  “There’s a huge difference, dickhead.”

  “Who’s a dickhead?” my other brother Logan asks as he appears from the kitchen, munching on a carrot stick.

  “Your twin, so by association, you’re a dickhead, too,” I say with a shit-eating grin.

  His eyes fall on me, feigning hurt. “I don’t see you in forever, and this is the welcome I get?” Logan complains.

  I shrug my shoulders. “It could be worse. You could be Blake and have a small penis.”

  “I do not have a small penis!” Blake yells from the kitchen while Logan and Nate chuckle with agreement.

  I swear, as soon as I get in a room with my brothers, everything turns to mayhem. Honestly, it’s one of my favorite things about Thanksgiving.

  Blake steps out from the kitchen, eyes narrowed on me. “Fuck you. I don’t have a small penis. I’ll get it out right now and show you.” He starts unbuckling his belt. He was an exhibitionist when he was younger; from the ages of three to eight, he would just strip down to his birthday suit because he hated wearing clothes.

  “No! God, I do not want to see that before dinner! Keep your Tootsie Roll in your pants.”

  He works his jaw over, trying to hide his smile. “It’s a good thing you’re my sister.”

  “Or what?” I demand, crossing my arms over, my eyes dancing with humor.

  “Or I’ll get the old video out of you singing along to the Spice Girls when you were ten, get a digital copy of it, and share it on Facebook.”

  “Well, thank goodness we’re related, because nobody wants to see that.”

  The video of me singing along to “Wannabe” into a neon-green plastic Echo Mic, wearing a Union Jack dress, performing a live concert for myself in front of my mom’s full-length mirror is something that should never be shown in public. I didn’t even know I was being filmed until I saw Blake recording me with the family camcorder. I freaked out and chucked the mic at his head.

  Blake throws an arm around my shoulders and pulls me to him as we make our way into the kitchen. “It’s good to see you, sis,” he says on a serious note. “I heard about Teddy. You want me to go kick his ass? Maybe I can find some dirt on his company and sue the fucker for every penny.”

  Blake is a corporate lawyer. He’s like the Harvey Specter of corporate lawyers—arrogant as fuck but knows his shit—so if he tells me he could find dirt on Teddy’s company, he isn’t bluffing. It just isn’t a rabbit hole I want to go down though.

  “I love you for wanting to protect me, but no, I don’t need you to kick his ass or find dirt on his company. I just want to forget about him.”

  “Well, you were way too good for that jackass anyway. You deserve someone better.”

  “Thanks,” I say, smiling up at Blake before turning to my mom, who’s at the stove, making one hell of a meal for us. “It smells amazing in here. Do you want any help?” I offer as I step out from Blake’s arm and approach my mom.

  I ask her this every year, and the answer is always the same.

  “It’s okay. I’ve got it under control. You sit and relax.”

  Translation: she doesn’t want me anywhere near her food.

  It’s not that I’m so much of a terrible cook; it’s that I burn everything. No matter what it is—chicken, toast, boiling hot water—nine times out of ten, I will burn it.

  “Where’s Dad and Jace?” I ask as I head to the fridge to grab a water before taking a seat at the breakfast bar.

  “They’re in the basement, looking for some old football game from 1972,” my mom tells me. “I love football as much as the next person, but I don’t think I’ll ever understand the need to rewatch games from decades ago.”

  “You are kidding, right?” Logan scoffs. “It’s like a football rite of passage to replay the games of a lifetime.”

  Mom begins to argue, and Logan fires off statistics that begin to make my head spin, so I jump from my stool and head in the direction of the ba
sement.

  “I’m going to go say hi to my other favorite men in my life,” I announce as Mom and Logan continue bickering with each other about the sanctity of football.

  Good Lord.

  I love the game, I do, but Logan always takes things too far, and I’d prefer not to be around them when he starts laying down the law of football.

  I make my way down to the basement. The basement is no ordinary basement where spiders roam; it’s a man cave of all man caves. I’m talking a fifty-inch plasma screen, La-Z-Boy chairs, several arcade games, a pool table, foosball table, poker table, and my favorite; the bar that’s always filled with my favorite liquor. It’s no wonder my mom is in such a happy marriage after thirty-five years; my dad just spends his time down here, leaving my mom in peace to watch the Hallmark channel.

  “So, who lied to Mom and told her you were looking for old football games when I know the basement is where the porn used to be kept?” I ask in a singsong voice as I walk down the stairs, alerting my brother and dad of my presence.

  I step off the bottom step and see Jace’s annoyingly handsome face grinning from ear to ear while my dad looks almost affronted at the accusation as they sit, watching an old game on the screen.

  My dad stares daggers at my brother, pointing a finger at him. “This is your influence, you and your brothers. You’ve corrupted your sister and turned her into a potty mouth.”

  I sit beside Jace on the arm of his chair and laugh. “If anyone is the corrupter, it’s me. I was the firstborn,” I argue.

  “No, I blame your brothers for turning my little angel into a devil.” He grins wide.

  “Hate to break it to you, Pops, but I’ve never been an angel…and if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s yours. I continued to ask for a sister, yet Mom kept popping out boys.”

  “That I can’t argue with, but I’m glad I wasn’t overrun with women. Having to deal with four of you would have sent me to the grave years ago.”

  I gape in shock while Jace chuckles beside me.

  “You did not just say that to me, your little angel.”