“Right, well, I won’t pretend to understand where you’re coming from because I’ve never felt that, but you have to ask yourself if you’re just seeing something you want to be there because you’re still fighting for something that used to be. Did you ever think that maybe, she isn’t the same chick you first met?”
“No, because if I thought like that, I would be just another person to give up on her. Come on, we’re going to be late if we don’t stop talking like a couple of damn chicks and get over to Greg’s house.”
I take a few minutes to change out of my work clothes and throw on some old jeans and a faded black tee before we head over to Greg and Melissa’s for Cohen’s birthday party. The closer we get, the more nervous energy flows through my system. I feel it every time that I know I’m about to come face to face with Dee.
God, please don’t let her have a date.
*
The party is in full chaos mode when we walk in. Coop, being Coop, heads straight for the kids and starts acting out some weird impression of a ninja. Kicking his legs and flapping his arms around, he looks more as if he needs medical attention by the second. Cohen’s in the middle of about ten little boys his size, all of them laughing at the weird man in front of them.
It takes Coop about one second too long to notice what he just walked into.
“Coopie!” And in a flash of blond hair, black spandex, and a gold cape, Sway jumps into the fray and hugs Coop tightly. Cohen starts laughing hysterically when Sway starts jumping around, flailing his arms, kicking his legs, and swishing his long, blond ponytail around. Coop, never the one to be out done, joins in, and before long all the kids are acting like cracked out little hyenas.
“Hey, you, glad you could make it.” Melissa’s voice breaks through the insanity, and she wraps her arms around me, giving me a small hug before pulling back. Greg is right behind her, giving me one of his hard stares, which just makes me pull her in for another hug and kiss her lightly on her cheek. When she is pulled out of my hands and into Greg’s arms, we both laugh. Yeah, it’s way too easy to pick on him these days. Ever since she found out that she’s pregnant with twins, he’s become almost unbearable with his possessiveness.
“Calm down, you beast.” Melissa laughs, swatting his arms away.
His eyes are still burning at me when he finally speaks. “Don’t touch her. You want some cake?” I laugh before following them through the craziness and into the kitchen. The tension that has slowly rolled off my shoulders when we first got here comes flinging back with vengeance. There she is, as beautiful as ever, laughing with Izzy and Emmy.
She’s wearing one of my favorite pair of jeans that hug her ass perfectly, and showcase her long, toned legs. Her shirt is one of those blousy things that kind of hang loosely in a sexy way. It’s sheer, so I can still see her tight body and full chest incased in a tight, black tank. I almost swallow my tongue when I see her shoes. That woman could have me licking the floor just to have her in those heels, and those heels alone. Red-hot and sky high.
Temptation on legs.
I clear my throat and will my erection down. Last thing I need is to look like some creepy, old man getting hard on at a four-year-old’s birthday party. Yeah, that wouldn’t go over well at all.
Her eyes snap over to where I’m leaning against the doorjamb that leads into the kitchen. I can tell the exact second that her wall she has up starts securing all their extra locks, and the bulletproof glass starts to rise. You can literally see her protecting herself. And the worst part, the part that guts me right to the fucking heart, is that she is protecting herself from me.
“Izzy, Em, Dee . . . good to see you.” I turn and walk back into the living room. No sense in sticking around where I’m not wanted.
CHAPTER 7
Dee
What a mess. I should know by now that my body will react to being around him, even if I beg it not to. My therapist keeps telling me that it’s time to trust. Time to stop letting my fears, and the ghosts of the past stand in the way of my happiness. She says I can’t keep condemning everyone around me for the crimes of others. The rational part of me knows that she’s right, but then I remember, for the billionth time, what happens when the good guy turns into the devil. It’s getting easier, though. I feel stronger, and that in itself, is a huge step for me.
I look around at the happy faces of my friends and feel the usual tug at my heart. The love so clearly painted all over them, is almost too much to take. Hell, even shy, little Emmy seems to be smiling and laughing more.
Everyone is happy.
Everyone is loved.
Everyone is blinded by that perfection.