Waverly missed his forearms, and sex with him...and him. She knew she had to find a way to move on, but she still wanted Walker. She knew that she shouldn’t want Walker, she couldn’t go back to him. Sure he wanted her, but only for sex. She wanted him for everything. How did one move past that?
What she couldn’t figure out was how he thought this would end, did he plan on breaking it off with her at some point to marry Cece? As well as he knew her, did he think that she would ever agree to see, or continue a relationship with him, after he married his baby momma? Walker was a very smart man, he had to know she would never agree to that type of relationship with him. Yes, she had agreed to that in the beginning but she couldn’t now, not the way she felt about him. Not with the way she thought that he felt about her.
Her intercom buzzed. Shit. Everybody she knew had been warned that she was not available today - for anything. Wearing her yoga pants with a hole in the knee and an XXL Star Wars Hoodie, she hadn’t even showered and was pretty sure there were crease marks on her face from her pillow. Bobthedoorman buzzed again letting her know that Anne was on her way up. Anne? Waverly wilted against the door frame banging her head lightly on it, as she waited for Anne’s knock. Steeling herself Waverly opened reaching deep to present a relaxed carefree appearance.
“Waverly, I apologize for dropping by unannounced, but I wanted to apologize,” she said straightforwardly, presenting Waverly with a bottle of chocolate wine topped with a gaudy bow.
“Anne, thank you. For the apology and the wine. You didn’t have to do that. No apology necessary. It was an unusual situation and I know that you work for the Dumbfu...uh, him, so I completely understand.”
“Waverly, would you mind terribly if I came in for a moment?”
Annee’s tone was gentle which in itself was odd, Anne was typically ballsy and all out, Waverly had never seen her behave in such a soft-spoken manner. Anne was old enough to be her mother, it was a little intimidating.
“Please, please come in, I’m so sorry I look like such a slob. I was doing some cleaning,” trying to continue her feigned cheerfulness, her voice escalated until she was practically shrieking.
No way, was she going to let that Dumbfuck Asshole think she was slobbing around in grubby clothes all day, overcome with grief over their break up - even if it was true. She motioned for Anne to come in from the foyer and have a seat in her living room.
“Can I get you something to drink Anne? Water, juice, coffee, chocolate wine?”
Kiddingly, Waverly jiggled the bottle back and forth in her hand.
“I would love to try the wine, thank you. Will you have some with me?”
Surprised by the request, Waverly peeked at the clock on her microwave. It wasn’t even really late afternoon yet? Who cracks open a bottle of wine that early? Probably a woman who had to work with Walker all day?
“Of course Anne, great idea,” she chirped.
Oh what the hell, it’s not like she had anything else to do today, it might even help. She was a little worried that Anne was going to reprimand her, after all, Anne was a surrogate mom of sorts to him, she probably felt protective of him.
Nervously, Waverly handed Anne a generously filled wine glass, almost spilling it on her, carefully taking her own seat, she noticed a spot of something on her hoodie, Anne would probably tell Walker that she looked like a homeless person. Feeling like she had been sent to the principal’s office, she took another large drink, thinking that a little less mental clarity could only help.
“Mmmm, it’s good, Anne. Thanks again, I’ve always wanted to try this.”
Waverly could feel that she now had a chocolate wine mustache which she licked away with her tongue when Anne was surveying her apartment. Anne cleared her throat.
“Waverly, have you spoken with Steve recently?”
“I haven’t spoken with him in a couple of weeks, I’ve texted him but he’s not that big on texting. I probably should call him, though.”
“I know he would love to see you and he always loves hearing from you. He thinks of you as a daughter you know, always calls you, ‘that little firecracker’.”
Anne smiled warmly, her face slightly pink. Waverly couldn’t tell if the warm smile and blush on her face was for her or for Steve, and wondered why was Anne aware of how Steve referred to her.
“Anne, I don’t mean to be nosy, but is there something going on between you and Steve?”
“Steve is quite a man, Waverly. How do you young people say it? He’s all that and a dynamo in the sack.”
Waverly wasn’t sure if it was that she was rapidly becoming tipsy, sheer horror or both that caused her to choke on her wine. Steve, her Steve, and Anne together?
“That’s, that’s wonderful, Anne. Would you like another glass of wine?”
Scurrying out to her kitchen, she prayed that the offer of a refill would change the subject.
“Waverly, just bring the bottle out,” Anne called out.
“It’s not true, you know, any of it. Waverly, Walker would never do that. And he certainly wouldn’t do it to you. This entire mess is that VanderCrest woman playing games, she’s always wanted our Walker. I’ve known her for years, she’s a horrible woman.”
Anne’s voice had gone bitter at the mention of Cece’s name.
“I agree Anne, she is horrible. She’s going to be his horrible wife soon, and the horrible mother of his child too. That’s what he wanted, though, that’s what he chose when he fu...er, slept with her.”
“No. No, Waverly, I for one refuse to stand by and let her manipulate Walker into marriage when she is pregnant with another man’s child!”
Anne emphatically threw her arm up as if she were charging into battle. Unfortunately, in her enthusiasm, her wine glass went up as well splashing wine on her side table.
Of course, she’s going to take his side Waverly thought, but, why did Anne, and well, everybody keep trying to convince her that Walker had been wronged? She was the one who had been wronged. If the situation were reversed, she would be shouting her innocence from the rooftops, placing full-page ads in the paper to proclaim the truth. And to protect him.
His silence spoke volumes about his innocence. How would Walker with his vehement avoidance of the press, enjoy living his life in the media she wondered. TwinSet loved the press, she was in the news constantly under the guise of touting her family’s foundation. He hadn’t even stepped forward to refute the story, yet had the nerve to expect her to believe that it was all untrue. Maybe his Karma would be seeing his entire life endlessly splattered across the paper, TV, and Internet. Although she too, would have to see their life together played out also. Maybe she would move...to Alaska.
“Waverly, Waverly.” Anne prodded.
“How do you know it’s another man’s baby Anne? Everything that I’ve read says that TwinSet considered a paternity test beneath her and refused to have one? Even Walker hasn’t said anything about a request for a paternity test.”
Anne coughed on her wine, “You call her TwinSet, hysterical. Wait until I tell Walker about this.”
Waverly took a few sips of her wine as Anne chuckled then smiled evilly.
“Oh, he knows Anne.”
“Oh, Well, there’s no need for a paternity test, I know exactly who that skinny little witch has been seeing. But before I tell you I do need to ask you something.”
Was that true? Walker was telling the truth? It wasn’t his baby?
Waverly’s eyes bulged, astonished, her mouth gaped, then continued to just open and close, finally deciding she needed to refill her wine glass again. Fuck it, she needed to be a lot more tipsy for this story. Wiggling her fingers at her Anne had the same idea.
“Tell me, tell me. I gotta hear this, so ask your question?
“Hand me the bottle Waverly, you’re not filling my glass full enough.”
Anne held the bottle up tipping the last few drops into her glass, then slumped down into her seat and glared at Waverly.
Giggling at Anne’s despair Waverly tipped the bottle upside down herself to double check, which caused Anne to join in with snorting laughter.
“Wait, I have more wine,” Waverly announced happily.
While Waverly stumbled out to the kitchen to search for the wine Anne slipped off her shoes and her scarf, moving onto the sofa to make herself more comfortable, Waverly plopped down next to her and popped the cork.
“Gimme your glass Anne, and what’s your question? I forget.”
“Hand me the bottle, we’ll take turns,” Anne announced, slugging back a drink, then resting her head on Waverly’s shoulder.
“I wanna know if...if, you love the Dumbfuck Asshole? That is so funny that you call him that. I need a funny name for Steve. Maybe I could call him, Old Butthead?”
Waverly found that hilarious, laughing until she rolled off of the sofa onto the floor. Solemnly she considered how she should answer Anne’s question. They were BFF’s now so she supposed that she should tell her the truth.
“I do. I love him. And I hate him. Together. Both. At the same time. But shhh, don’t tell , Anne, I don’t want him to know,” Waverly whispered, sitting up and putting her hands over Anne’s mouth, with a conspiratorial look.
Anne took the hand placed over her mouth and squeezed it gently, then sadly confided with a whisper, “He loves you too.”
When Anne’s phone chirped, startling them both, her hand fumbled to find it but missed the call, it immediately rang again.
“It’s Steve,” Anne announced excitedly, “Hello, Old Butthead,” she answered in a serious voice trying to camouflage her tipsiness.
Unconcerned about Anne’s subterfuge, Waverly snickered calling out, “Ask Old Butthead if he’s talked to Dumbfuck Asshole.”
Both of them lay on the floor, howling with laughter at how amusing Steve could be when he was irritated.
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO
Steve arrived to take Anne home. He had arranged for Walker to meet him there under the guise of helping him wrangle Anne into his car. Based on the conversation that Steve recounted to him it seemed a safe bet that neither of the women would know him from the Easter Bunny. Waverly absolutely wouldn’t be happy he was there, but, he was willing to take the risk if it gave him some time with her. Besides, Waverly had always been a happy and loving drunk. Right now he wasn’t above using that to his advantage.
When the men arrived at Waverly’s apartment, both women were on the floor, drunk - very drunk. Waverly was giving Anne drawing lessons, Anne’s result was either a snake or a stick, it was only one straight line. Waverly was thrilled with the result of her instruction and the two were in the midst of plans to open a drawing school. Their revolutionary concept was to have the entire class take place while laying on the floor. As Anne floundered through her explanation of the concept, Steve being an art man worked to hide both his amusement and horror. Walker was just thrilled to be in the same room with Waverly, without her throwing something or stomping away.
Anne explained - loudly, that she had fixed everything. Waverly was happy again, men were stupid, and Steve would now be called ‘Old Butthead’ because he needed a nickname as ‘cool’ as Walker’s. Walker coughed to hide his laugh while Steve glared at him.
After helping Steve corral Anne into his car, he found Waverly passed out on her sofa. Situating himself next to her on the sofa he gently pried the wine bottle out of her grip, then just studied her for long minutes. She must not be sleeping well either he thought to himself as he reached out to wipe away a smudge of what looked like chocolate milk off of her top lip. Her hoodie had pulled up tempting him with a clear view of her toned flat stomach and the soft underside of her firm tits. This was what he had wanted. To be next to her again, but it was proving to be agonizing, his heart ached and his dick wanted her desperately.
Moaning and stretching, she opened her eyes, he held his breath waiting to see how she would react. She blinked a few times, then gazed up at him with a small, sleepy smile. She looks flat-out gorgeous, half drunk, in sweats and without a bit of makeup on. Like a hammer, it hit him right in the chest, that smile, his smile, he had gone too long without one.
“Dumbfuck Asshole, you’re here?”
Hesitantly, doubt filling her eyes, she reached out with one finger to push in and out on his bottom lip. Damn, her touch was killing him. He wondered how wrong it would be to lay her back on the sofa and explore every inch of her with his tongue. He wouldn’t stop until she remembered what she felt for him - what they felt for each other.
“I’m here,” he answered, grabbing her finger, wanting to touch any part of her that she would allow before it came back to her that she despised him now.
“How are you feeling, Wave?”
Sighing, she crawled onto his lap, snuggling her head into his shoulder, he breathed in her coconutty floral scent, fuck, she smelled so good. Like a deep breath of the beach, with her in a tiny little nothing bikini, covered in that sticky lotion, her hair windswept and golden.
Lifting her head off of his chest she looked around, he tried to catch her eyes.
“Let me get you some water and aspirin or you’re going to feel like hell tomorrow.”
“‘Mkay.”
Flopping bonelessly, back down on the sofa, she was snoring softly when he returned, he shook her gently, waking her enough to get the pills and water into her. When he sat down next to her immediately snuggling up to him again. Nothing was being resolved between them but it was going better than he had thought it would. Now if he could only find a way to make her believe him.
“Walkerrrrr,” she hummed, not lifting her head from his chest, “Do you love me or hate me?”
How much of this would she remember tomorrow, he thought to himself. Goddamn Cece. What a fucking train wreck this whole goddamn situation was.
“I could never hate you, Wave,” he answered, gently pushing some of her hair back and away from her face while she shifted and sighed, her eyelashes fluttering sleepily.
“You know what,” she answered, gripping his wrist, “I love you, but, I hate you too. Because you went to her. She told me you would go to her and she was right. Now she gets to have your baby. I wanted to have your baby. Now I can’t have you or your
baby.”
“Fuuuuuck,” he sucked in his breath, she had never told him that she loved him before, but as much as he loved hearing it, he really wished she was sober when she said it. Damn Fucking Cece. Never before had he given any real thought to having kids of his own, now he couldn’t get away from talk of kids and babies. His kids, his babies..
“Hey, I know,” she attempted to sit up, failed and slumped back down in his arms again.
“Can we hate fuck?”
He choked and smothered his laugh if he had been drinking anything he would have spit it out all over her. Only Waverly could be so pissed that she dumped him and then ask him to have sex with her. He desperately wanting to say yes but knew it really would be the end of them if he did. She would wake up remember and then hunt him down and kill him.
“I don’t think that’s a very good idea right now Wave,” he answered her quietly, tipping her head up and gently pushing some of her hair off of her face.
Her eyes teared up, her lips pouted and she mumbled a few words that made no sense to him about the bathroom and Adam before trailing off. Her unguarded admission left him feeling like he had been sucker punched. Waverly had never told him that she loved him, as much as he wanted to hear those words, it fucking killed him that she wasn’t sober when she said it.
“I love you, baby, I could never hate you,” he answered gently.
She was sound asleep. Walker sighed, this woman just wrecked him. He scooped her up and carried her to bed, picked up her living room a bit, noticed that her carpet really needed to be vacuumed, then let himself out.
Waverly woke the next morning feeling a lot better than she thought she would given the am
ount of alcohol she had downed. Still drowsy and eyes still closed she rolled over sliding her hand over the sheets reaching for Walker before reality slammed into her again. No more Walker. Sitting up she vaguely remembered him holding her while she sat on his lap, it all came rushing back, Anne, the chocolate wine, throwing up, Walker carrying her to bed.... Shit, there was a conversation but she couldn’t remember exactly what it was about. What had she said, was she needy and weepy or had she been super bitchy? Why had he even showed up? Flopping back down she grabbed the pillow next to her, smashing her face into it and inhaling, it still smelled like him. She hadn’t washed the pillow cases, not wanting to lose the smell of him, subtle, woodsy and manly. She felt more tears threatening, he was really gone. It had been good, so good, why did he do it, why did he ruin it all? She loved him, she was in love with him. Waverly let the tears roll, stupid dumbfuck asshole. She was never going to get over him, he would always be the one who got away. She would be seventy years old with four dogs and three cats knitting overly large blankets and third wheeling it on bingo night with Benn and Kate.
She thought of something they had talked about once, late in the night. They had gone out for dinner and that night Walker had actually gotten a little drunk. By the time his driver had pulled up in front of his apartment he was more frenzied for her than usual. Standing under the light in front of his door where anybody could see he forcing her skirt up to her waist, then dropping to his knees he drew one orgasm from her with his mouth and then carried her inside for another while he thrust wildly inside of her. Later after they finally made it to his bed she was lying in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder, his hand playing with a handful of her hair. They were discussing whether Kate and Benn would eventually marry, which lead to a general discussion of marriage.
The Dumbf*ck - Part Two of The DumbFuck Series: A Billionaire Bad Boy Humorous New Adult Romance (The DumbF*ck Part Two Book 2) Page 13