Writing a Wrong (2 page)

Chapter 2

Olivia sat on the couch, thumbing through emails on her phone while I did a few chores. "How's the sex-off going?"

"Ugh," I answered, taking out my frustration by angrily spritzing water on the poor plant I had been trying in vain to keep alive. Alec bought it for me a few weeks back, but I so didn't have a green thumb. "It totally sucks. I waited a long time to finally have sex. It seems wrong to have a serious boyfriend and still not be getting any."

Olivia snorted. "Trust me. It is wrong—on so many levels."

I gave her a spritz of water for good measure. "No comments from the peanut gallery allowed. It's not like you're getting any right now either. This has to be your longest dry spell ever."

She flipped me off without looking up from her phone."Don't remind me, whore. I'm ready to dump my dating rules so I can scratch my itch."

I hobbled toward the couch, trying not to put extra weight on the ankle I had twisted the night before. Placing the water bottle and a few dead leaves from the plant on the coffee table, I lowered myself gingerly before settling against the cushions. "Ready to give the poor saps a fighting chance?" I tossed one of the throw pillows onto the table and lifted my leg up to rest my sore ankle.

Olivia picked up a magazine and mindlessly flipped through the pages before answering. "Is it too much to ask to find a guy who wants the same thing as me out of a relationship? I mean, look at this," she said, holding up my Cosmopolitan magazine. "'Ten Ways to Make Your Guy Fall for You and Stay.' Seriously? What if I just want my guy to warm my bed and leave? Where is that article? I don't need a guy to stick around and cuddle, and I'm definitely not going to pick up his nasty boxers off my bathroom floor or clean up his globs of toothpaste in the sink, especially after he stinks up my bathroom while he browses through my magazines."

I adjusted my sore ankle on the pillow while trying not to laugh. "Well, I have to admit, you're not exactly describing Prince Charming, but you know, it's really not that bad. I wasn't sure what to expect before Alec moved in here but, truthfully, he's tidier than I am. Plus, he feeds me."

"Hey, I feed you sometimes too, but right now you're not getting any more out of me than you do him."

I snorted. "Don't make me regret telling you about our bet, slut."

"But I am right," she said, picking up another magazine.

"Whatever. It's only a matter of time before he caves."

Olivia rolled her eyes. "The fact that he hasn't yet shows how little I've taught you. Do I need you to give you another lesson on how to get your man to put out? Seriously, girl. Use your assets."

I swatted at her. "I don't need a lesson, slutbag. I have a seduction plan in place." Of course, I neglected to mention my first failed attempt from the night before. The plan was for a warm bubble bath where I'd make sure everything was nice and shaved. Then I would innocently call Alec into the bathroom where the mound of foamy bubbles would just barely cover my breasts, followed by an "accidental" nipple slip. What I hadn't counted on was how slick the tub would be from the overabundance of pumpkin spice-scented shower gel I used to make the bubbles. I definitely got Alec's attention, just not the kind I was looking for. My legs slipped out from under me, sending half the water in the tub spilling out on the floor. Alec tore into the bathroom like someone was being murdered when I screeched in pain. The bathroom looked like a crime scene with me sprawled out in the tub with my goods hanging out, a sore tailbone, swollen ankle, and a bruised ego. Not exactly the sexy seduction scene I had painted in my mind.

At the very least I had to hand it to Alec. He could have laughed. I probably would have. Olivia definitely would have, but Alec was a gentleman. He plucked me up out of the tub and carried me gently to the bed. The only magic he performed with his hands was to ice and wrap my ankle before shoving a stack of pillows under my leg to keep it elevated. I didn't get the night of passion I had anticipated, but we did spend the evening in bed with a tub of Ben and Jerry's ice cream binge-watching season four of Breaking Bad. Not exactly a total loss.

Olivia looked at my ankle skeptically. "Can you carry out your grand plan without killing yourself?"

"Bite me. I told you I did this walking down a flight of stairs."

"So you say, and no thanks to your offer, but maybe you can get your boy toy to do that."

"You're hilarious," I said, plucking one of the dead leaves off the table. "Can we actually talk about work for a minute? How close are you on the cover of Wicked Forever?

She closed the magazine she'd been browsing through and tossed it on the table. "Close. I have a few more shots I want to get tomorrow and then I'll start to work my magic. This one will obviously require all my Photoshop skills since you insisted on wanting the models on the deck of a pirate ship. I should have shut you down before that thought could fully develop in your little head. I must have been drunk when I agreed."

I tore a piece from the dead leaf and tossed it at Olivia, but it fluttered harmlessly to the floor. She mockingly shook her head at my failed attempt. "Not only were you sober, whore, but if I remember correctly, you agreed it was a splendid idea."

"Yeah, but then I asked the obvious question of where the hell were we going to find a pirate ship. I've got a few shots from St. Augustine of a ship they use for dinner shows or even worse, the tacky-as-ass pirate ship from the miniature golf place. The only way to use that one is to try and Photoshop out the cheesy castle and a few pimply-faced teenagers who were running around using their golf clubs like penises."

"Gross. TMI. Anyway, stop bitching. You know it'll be brilliant once you work your magic. I told you we could have found some sort of stock photo of a pirate ship, but you insisted on wanting your own shots. What did you say? Something about not compromising your professional integrity?"

Olivia glared at me even though she couldn't deny my words. "Why is it you can't remember to go grocery shopping or order swag, but somehow you can recall everything I say to use my own words against me?" She stood up grumbling, adjusting the top of the full-length maxi dress she was wearing. I really should have hated her. I'd give a kidney to look the way she did in that dress. The key was to have long thin legs that practically reached your armpits. Of course, even if I had been blessed with Olivia's stems, I would have found a way to trip over myself thanks to my clumsy gene.

"It's a gift. My brain is filled with useless knowledge."

"Ain't that the truth." 

"Whatever, braless wonder," I said, tugging on her dress to yank it down.

She grasped at the top before her boobs could pop out. "Stop being a perv. I know you're hard up, but you're not going to get me in the sack that easily. I actually need to get some work done. We can't all sit around eating Dove chocolates and watching Maury all day."

She had me dead to rights there. I turned toward my TV and even with the volume muted we could tell what was happening on screen. Three guys sat in chairs on a stage waiting to see which one of them was the actual baby daddy. Each prospective father wrung his hands nervously while the poor mother wailed to the unsympathetic audience as Maury read the results of the paternity test. You could tell when Maury ended the drama-filled speculation because two of the possible fathers suddenly jumped from their chairs, high-fiving and bumping their chests in celebration. 

Olivia rolled her eyes, looking as disgusted as always. "Every episode is the same. I mean, who are these people?"

"You jest until you're up there one day," I teased her as I reluctantly switched to the Food Channel.

She snorted. "As if. Any guy I'm with has to bag his junk big time before he gets within ten feet of this. There'll be no baby cooking in this oven." She headed for the door, patting her stomach for emphasis. "I'll call you later."

"I might be busy," I said, nodding toward my bedroom.

"Ha, you wish. Good luck, gimpy. My money is on Alec."

I threw the magazine she had discarded at her retreating back. "You know we're supposed to be best friends, right? Shouldn't you be on my side? You know, that whole 'chicks before dicks' thing."

She pivoted around to look at me, cackling with laughter. "You're right. I'm definitely pulling for you because obviously you need some dick bad. You dirty girl you."

I stuck my tongue out. "Don't be a dick."

"Oh, there it is again. Good luck."

I grinned at her backside as she left my apartment laughing. Once she was gone, I picked up the remote and changed the station back to Maury, turning up the volume this time. I even stuck out my tongue at the door before grabbing a couple of chocolates from the crystal dish my grandma gave me last Christmas. So I had my guilty pleasures. Everyone did, including Olivia. Besides, it wasn't like I watched the Maury show every day. Okay, maybe it had become my version of crack during the past few weeks, but that was between me and my cat, Severus. And there was no way he would give up my secret. I could quit anytime I wanted to. Really, I could.

Alec was supposed to come home early that evening, but as it turned out, Operation Seduction was put on hold. He called, deciding to log more hours at the lab at school because he would be working a shift at the Red Moon the following evening. I couldn't help being disappointed, but I also didn't want to make him feel bad. I knew going into this relationship that he was a medical student. Between that and his job, our free time together was starting to become few and far between. Normally during my writing time I didn't notice his absence as much, but my brain was being a total douche at the moment.

Since my writing concentration was shot, I decided to veg the rest of the afternoon away by being a complete couch potato with my leg propped up on the arm of the couch. Severus settled himself on my lap, refusing to move. The only time he would leave was when he wanted a bite or two of food from his dish in the kitchen. That would be my chance to go to the bathroom, but when I returned, there was Severus, waiting patiently for me to settle myself once again on the couch. I stroked him behind the ears the way he liked while I bounced from one social media site to the next on my phone, scrolling aimlessly through my timelines. It was counterproductive, especially since I didn't comment or post anything, but it helped whittle the hours away.

***

The sound of the front door opening woke me sometime in the middle of the night. I sat up abruptly, grimacing in pain from a kink in my neck I had gotten from using the arm of the couch as a pillow.

Alec walked in looking thoroughly exhausted. "Hey," he said, trying for a smile that morphed into a yawn.

I stood up from the couch, dislodging Severus from my lap. He meowed his displeasure before trotting off to the kitchen. "Hey yourself. You look whipped, hon."

He yawned again, sinking down on the edge of the coffee table. "Long day. I didn't even get a chance to eat dinner."

"I can whip you something up," I offered halfheartedly while rubbing his shoulders. Looking apprehensively at the kitchen, I had to admit I was hoping he wouldn't take me up on the offer. I couldn't remember the last time I'd actually cooked anything. For that matter, with the exception of my Diet Coke, which I bought by the case, I wasn't sure I could tell you, even with a gun to my head, anything else that could be in the refrigerator.

Alec chuckled at my offer. "No, thanks, babe. No offense, but I can't afford to be laid up with food poisoning," he teased.

I tugged lightly on a lock of his hair. "Don't be mean. I'm perfectly capable of making you a sandwich. Oh wait. Isn't there still leftover pizza from the other night?" I bounced toward the kitchen with as much enthusiasm as my crippled ankle would allow. Heating up pizza was definitely in my realm of capabilities. "It looks like there's three slices left," I called out after finding the pizza box in the fridge. "You want all of them?"

Alec trailed me into the kitchen. He leaned his hip against the counter and stood watching me with an odd look.  

"What?" I flushed self-consciously, nervously tucking a lock of hair behind my ear that had escaped my ponytail as I slide a couple slices of pizza onto a paper plate. "You want these or what?"

He pushed himself away from the counter and slowly glided toward me. "You're pretty adorable when you're acting all domestic-like, but you really shouldn't be on your ankle." His eyes moved to my sore foot that I had slightly elevated off the ground to avoid putting weight on it. He stepped closer to me, resting his hands on my hips.

I held my breath as he dipped his head toward my neck. We'd been together almost half a year and I still wasn't immune to his close proximity. The holding-out-on-sex bet we started, which in hindsight was the dumbest idea ever, made it even worse. His warm breath gently blowing across the sensitive skin on my neck made the rest of my body shiver in anticipation. I could feel it from my toes and up my spine.

Alec's lips hovered over my shoulder without touching, turning my legs to jelly. I gripped the counter, trying to restrain myself from whipping around and tearing his clothes off. He was using his own Operation Seduction plan to turn the tables against me. I wanted to be the strong one, but I could feel my resolve blowing away like sand in the wind.