Chapter Nine

Easy breathing, easy stretching, calming thoughts. I haven’t done any yoga in a while, but the urge overcame me this morning to get out my mat and do it. A coping method I pull out when things get a little murky. When that addiction nudges at the back of my mind.

We all have something we’re addicted to. For some people, it’s alcohol or drugs. For some people, it’s real things that are tangible. Things you can physically touch and taste and see. For other people, they’re addicted to less visible things. They’re addicted to feelings and sensational things that can slip away easily as water can run through their fingers.

That’s me. That’s my downfall. The things many people take for granted, the things they don’t always recognize are there—they’re the things I’m addicted to; Intimacy Connection and Love.

I’m in love with love and lust, and that only strengthens my desire for the other things. I crave the intimacy of knowing someone so deeply that there’s no part of their soul I haven't explored. I need the connection of someone knowing me that deeply and vast. Having a bittersweet addiction is what drive me to like a person.

This is why I have rules. Does it really matter if I do with a different guy every couple of days? Does that make me a horrible person? I decided long ago that those questions mean nothing and it doesn't bother me. I’m as human as everyone else. I have the same desires.

Ross was great. Despite what Dayton and everyone else thought, there was no intimacy. He was my mate and I was his. It all worked perfectly fine until I found him friendly-fucking another person, huh.

He was my protection net. Because we rarely spent any time together outside of each other’s pants, there was no cause for a conversation or anything that would bring us together intimately. Ross was safe and he was stable for a few months, at least.

Since we “broke up,” I knew in my heart that ‘one person, one time’ was the rule I had to go by. Then there was really no chance for anything to get real.

Until fate stepped in and threw Ivan in my path. Fate’s Big Fvck-Up is the only appropriate way to describe this whole situation.

 I can only be thankful for the short introductions Ivan and I had. If I knew his last name, it would be far too tempting. I could ask around, sure, but I can’t. That has to be my challenge, how I stay in the zone.

I snatch up my ringing phone. “Hello?”

“Brenda!” Dayton cries down the phone. “This is a disaster! Everything is going wrong!”

Good morning, soon to be wife

“What’s happened? Wait, no. Hang on. I’ll come over.”

“Oh, God,” she moans. I imagine her tugging at her hair in frustration.

“Give me ten minutes.” I hanged up and sigh.

I don’t know who’s more stressed over this wedding her or me. If there’s not something going wrong, like the bridal store ordering in the wrong size shoes, then she’s asking me a bunch of questions about the bridal shower and bachelor's party.

Are they done yet? Have I organized anything? Do I have any idea what I’m doing?

Someone needs to remind her that is a surprise.

I brushed my hair from my face and dump some pudding in Angus’s bowl in response to his incessant mewing. “Oh, don’t look at me that way, you can’t always have the canned food. There’s nothing wrong with that pudding you little rascal.”

Besides, I need to visit the store. Later.

I get behind the wheel of my car and head in the direction of Dayton’s apartment. Given the distress in her voice, the mistake is a good one, so I brace myself for a meltdown. I even check my glove box at some lights for a bottle of vodka.

I parked in the underground parking lot next to her Audii and key in the unlock code for Brian’s penthouse elevator. And yes, I roll my eyes. A keypad for an elevator.

“Tell Brian he needs to get rid of that keypad. It’s so stupid,” I said, walking into the apartment without knocking.

Dayton waves her hand. “Whatever. Brenda, disaster. It’s a disaster.”

“What, did the venue disappear or something?”

She shoots an evil look my way at my sarcasm. “Knowing my luck, it probably will. If she weren’t forbidden from any contact with us, I’d put my money on Gladys fucking around with my plans.”

“So what’s the problem?” I sat opposite her at the bar.

“The caterer is going out of business.”

Well, shit. That’s a kick in the center of a man's glory right there.

“Brian Sands is paying him to cater for his wedding and he’s going out of business?” I raised my eyebrows.