Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 111732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
No, Marnie. You’re not going to do that anymore. You literally just finished telling Dad you’re swearing off men for a year, at least.
Shit. I did, didn’t I? And I meant it.
I look at myself in my bathroom mirror and promise myself, out loud, I’m going to do everything I said to my father mere minutes ago.
From my bathroom, I slide into bed and stare at the ceiling. I’m trying to expel the visions of Max that keep invading my brain. My heart. My soul. But I can’t get rid of him. I need some closure. I need a release. I reach underneath the covers and touch myself to thoughts of Max—to memories of what we actually did, as well as some naughty fantasies we didn’t get around to—and thankfully, my orgasm comes quickly and does the trick: At least for now, my mind is wiped clean—enough for me to finally drift off to sleep.
7
MARNIE
A year and a half later
“I can’t believe you didn’t go back for a second bite of that smoking-hot apple, girl. If it were me, I would have gone back for seconds, thirds, and fourths.”
That’s Victoria speaking. To me. And she’s full of shit. Our darling Victoria doesn’t trifle with younger men. And she certainly wouldn’t stoop to dating a lowly patent attorney, even one who plies his trade at the best law firm in Seattle. Victoria’s last romantic partner was a successful novelist. The one before that, a conductor for the Seattle Symphony. The one before that, a renowned plastic surgeon. The woman aims high, and rightly so, since she’s a force to be reckoned with who heads up a big-time venture capitalist group.
And yet, despite Victoria’s known preferences when it comes to men, she hasn’t stopped making comments like that about Max, ever since he walked into this birthday party, looking like a casually dressed golden god. It didn’t help that I lied and told the group I didn’t see Max again after that one night because we didn’t want the same things, and I decided to do the healthy, mature thing and leave him in the dust. Apparently, Victoria has sniffed out my lie, and now she’s hell-bent on taunting me into divulging the truth. But that’s not going to happen. To this day, only Lucy knows the truth about why I bolted out of Max’s place the next morning. And since I can’t tell Selena without risking the story getting to Grayson, and then to Max, I can’t tell any of my other friends, either. If I’m not telling Selena, then I’m not telling any of them. Other than Lucy, of course; but they all know she’s my extra-special bestie.
Along with Victoria, I’m sitting at a shaded table in Selena’s spacious backyard with Lucy and Jasmine, while our hostess for today’s birthday party, Selena, flits around the packed party with the sweet birthday boy—Selena’s beloved boyfriend of a year and a half, Grayson McKnight.
True to form, Selena’s gone all out for this Sunday afternoon birthday bash. She’s got a DJ, catered barbeque, and a uniformed bartender dispensing all manner of delicious cocktails, including something called a “Grey Goose Grayson.” Oh, and there’s one more notable thing at this birthday party today. Notable to me, anyway. Grayson’s buddy, Max.
It’s the first time I’m seeing Max since our night together, and, man, I’d forgotten how smoking hot he is. Currently, Max is playing cornhole with the birthday boy across the party, and I don’t think he’s aware of my presence underneath this big umbrella. Or maybe he is, and he’s been artfully avoiding eye contact with me, the same way I’ve been doing with him.
“If it were me,” Victoria continues, her eyes trained on Max across the party, “I’d not only have taken a second bite of that apple, I’d have turned that hunk of a man into an apple fritter, and then, into an apple cobbler with extra crumbles on top, and eaten him for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for a full week.”
I can’t take it anymore. Victoria’s taunting would have annoyed me, regardless, but it’s especially annoying when I haven’t had sex with anyone since Max, and the man is looking like a veritable smoke show across Selena’s spacious lawn. “Would you stop already?” I snap, and everyone at the table, including Victoria, chuckles. “New topic, please. For fuck’s sake, Vicky. Stop living through me and get your own boy toy if that’s what you want.”
Victoria’s always loved getting a rise out of me. It’s the reason our friends call us Fire and Ice. Yes, that’s partly because I’m a redhead and Vicky’s a platinum blonde. But I don’t think the nicknames would have stuck since college based on hair color alone. In fact, they’ve stuck for so long because our resident ice queen’s disposition is the polar opposite of my fiery one.