Chapter 7 (4/2/16)

            Hi guys, thank you so much for your patience this week.  I plan to have another post up Monday or Tuesday!

            Also, you have may have noticed that I've turned on comment moderation.  There seems to be a case of mistaken identity happening, and I've been getting some bizarre comments from someone who thinks I'm someone they know.  I don't think that's the case.  While pieces of this story are based on real life events, I can assure you that I've taken many creative liberties and made everything a lot more exciting than the real life events they're based on.  Still, most of the blog is 100% fictional.  In any case, the comments were coming over and over so I've turned on the moderation.  All comments that aren't spam will be approved, and I hope that it doesn't discourage anyone from commenting, because I value your feedback quite a bit.  

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            I could only avoid the dating site for so long.  I got an email every time I got a message, and after getting several throughout the day on Sunday, I finally caved and decided to explore it a little.

            I wasn’t impressed with any of the profiles of the guys that had messaged me so far.  I clicked through, deleting all the messages.  Chelsea would be so disappointed.  I clicked away from my profile and began perusing some of the men’s profiles. 

20 minutes passed quickly as I explored the site.  I was just about to close the site and think about going for a run when a familiar photo caught my eye.  I did a double take as I saw my ex-husband, smiling in a photo that was at least 5 years old.  As I clicked on the profile, my blood began to boil when I realized it was a picture that I was in also—but of course he’d cropped me out. 

Every logical bone in my body told me to stop and not read any further.  But my impulsive, masochistic side read through his profile.  I rolled my eyes and got angrier as I saw that he was talking about looking for his “one true love.”  I scrolled through lies and lame canned lines that I’d read on 15 other profiles.  But when my eyes fell on the line that said, “Joined 3 months ago,” my jaw dropped.  3 months ago we had most definitely still been married.  We hadn’t even been separated.  3 months ago I was clinging desperately to the shreds of what was left, trying to rebuild my trust in him.  And 3 months ago, he was trolling dating sites for fresh meat.

I closed the website quickly and angrily.  Then I slammed my laptop shut way harder than was good for it.  I stomped around, getting running clothes on.  I stopped stomping as I went upstairs.  If Kevin wasn’t awake, I didn’t want to wake him up.  I didn’t want to see him.  Luckily, the coast was clear and I made it safely outside to run off some of my anger.

I avoided Kevin as much as possible for the next week and a half.  The Wednesday before Christmas, he left for a conference for work, and it was the best day I’d had in months.  I didn’t have to sneak around, trying to avoid him.  I got to sit in the living room and watch TV on his absurdly large television.  I looked at a few more houses, but none of them were good and I was quickly losing my motivation to buy.

Before I knew it, it was the Saturday before Christmas and I was getting ready for my…date? with Jamie.  I was really looking forward to seeing him and catching up.  I took way too long to get ready for what should have just been a friendly dinner, but I knew that was probably not all it was.  I was just finishing my hair when the doorbell rang.

“Hi,” Jamie said with a huge grin as I pulled open the door.  He stepped inside and hugged me, pulling me tightly against him.  “It’s really good to see you.” 

“No kidding!” I agreed, returning his hug.  “You look great.”

“Not as great as you,” he countered, pulling back and looking me up and down. 

“Yeah, well, stress agrees with my waistline.”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head.  “Whatever.  Are you ready?” 

“Yeah, I just need shoes.”  I walked over to the closet and surveyed my options.  I settled on a pair of gray suede booties that I wanted to take advantage of wearing while I still could.  The suede and 3 inch heel would not be any match for later this winter when the snow and salt were unavoidable. 

As we walked out to Jamie’s car, he slipped his arm around my shoulders.  “I’m glad we were able to figure out a time to get together before you go home,” he said.  He stopped and pulled the passenger side door open for me.

I snorted and cocked an eyebrow at him.  “You know you don’t have to pretend we’re on a date to secure your chances of getting laid, right?”

He burst out laughing.  Shaking his head, he said, “Shut up and get in the car, Jenna.”  I did, and he was still shaking his head and chuckling when he shut the car door.  He walked around and got in.  “You offend me,” he said, pretending to actually be offended.  “What kind of guy do you think I am?”

“One that just got out of a long term relationship and is going out to dinner to ‘catch up’ with a former fuck buddy who just got divorced,” I replied. 

“You haven’t changed a bit, and I love it,” Jamie said, throwing the car into reverse and backing down the driveway.  “Speaking of divorced, where’s the ex-husband tonight?”

“In Chicago at some work conference,” I told him.  “He’s been gone since Wednesday and it’s been amazing.”

“And why are you still living there?  That must suck.”

I snorted.  “It does, but I have a pretty sweet set up with the whole lower level to myself.  So it sucks less than rushing out to a shitty rental that costs twice what it’s worth.”

“I guess that makes sense,” he reluctantly agreed. 

It was nice catching up with Jamie over dinner.  We filled each other in on our respective breakups and talked about our jobs.  Jamie told me about living in Seattle, which he loved.  “You should come out and visit sometime,” he suggested.

“That would be fun,” I agreed. 

When we finished dinner, Jamie asked if I wanted to go get a drink somewhere.  “How about we go have a drink at my place?” I asked.  “I’ve got whiskey, vodka, and a decent variety of wine.”

“Works for me,” he agreed. 

We headed back to my house (or Kevin’s house, I guess), and handed him the TV remote while I went to open a bottle of wine.  I poured two glasses and brought them back to the living room.  Jamie took the glass I offered him and I sat down, next to him but an appropriate distance away.  “Now who’s pretending?” he asked.  “Get over here.” 

I laughed and scooted closer to him, nestling next to him when he put his arm around me.  We made it long enough to finish our glasses of wine before we started kissing.  I shifted and straddled his lap, wrapping one hand around the back of his neck and laying the other one on his chest. 

Things progressed quickly and within minutes I was naked and sprawled across the couch with Jamie’s head between my legs.  I ran my fingers over his short hair as he worked his magic with his tongue.  He was even better than I remembered, and it didn’t take long. 

He made his way back up my body, stopping to tease my nipple with his tongue.  “Do you have a bed?” he asked teasingly.  As he waited for me to answer, he sucked on my earlobe, which made it hard to think.

“I think so,” I finally responded, pressing my hips against his and groaning as he moved his mouth back down to nibble on my collarbone. 

            Jamie stopped what he was doing and laughed.  “I forgot how much your brain shuts down after you get off,” he teased me.  “Come on.”  He stood and offered me a hand.  I felt a little awkward walking downstairs naked in front of him, but I was too focused on what was to come to care too much.

            I shivered walking into my room and quickly switched the space heater on.  “It’s freezing in here,” I complained. 

            “Come here,” Jamie said.  “I’ll warm you up.”

            I cocked an eyebrow at him.  “You need to lose some clothes first.”  He was still fully clothed and I wasn’t pleased with that at all.  He grinned and obliged me, pulling off his shirt while I got to work unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans.  Once I had him fully naked, I sat him down on the edge of the bed and started going down on him, returning the favor he’d paid me on the couch.  He groaned and grabbed a fistful of my hair, holding it away from my face so he could watch me. 

            I could tell he was getting close, but he tugged gently on my hair, pulling me up off my knees.  He reached for the box of condoms I had strategically placed on top of my nightstand and took one out. 

           

            He’d only been inside me for about 90 seconds when I heard footsteps upstairs.  I froze, and Jamie stopped too.  “What the fuck?” I hissed.  I shoved him away and he rolled off me.  I quickly pulled on a pair of flannel pajama pants and a hoodie that were draped across my desk chair and opened my bedroom door.  When I heard the voices upstairs, I stiffened.  My teeth clenched as I realized who was walking around the house.