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Authors: Olivia Thomas

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BOOK: Lucky: A Love Lane Short
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I do need to get over myself
and start thinking about everything I have to offer. I am young,
have a great job in an amazing city, and I like to think I am
interesting enough to hold my own in a conversation. With my long,
chestnut hair that falls in waves down my back; my dark brown eyes;
and flawless skin—moisturizing is key people—I think I am fairly
easy on the eyes. It also doesn’t hurt that I have a decent body.
Years of dance and gymnastics as a kid followed by a love of yoga
as an adult has helped maintain my slender weight. The fact that I
am also a foodie—this is New York, after all—has helped give me
curves to my hips and chest that any guy would find enough to grab
on to when needed.

Taking a deep breath and
pulling myself out of my own self-inflicted pity party, I square my
shoulders, and with a determined stance, I muster up enough gusto
to even convince myself. “You’re right, Minds. I need to stop
bitching and look at this breakup as an opportunity. This is my
chance to find that one great love of my life.”
A girl can hope, right?


With that thought in mind,
I guess the first step in my newfound singledom is to find a place
to live. The apartment I shared with Braydon is in his name, so I
have to get out.”


Oh, honey, are you still
in the apartment with him?” Mindy replies with a pitying
look.


Yeah, but it’s okay.
Braydon has at least been nice enough to give me the bed while he
either crashes on the couch or at Candy’s place. I spent all
weekend scouring Craig’s List and making calls, but in order to
afford anything larger than a shoebox in Manhattan, I need to find
a place with a roommate. Scary isn’t a strong enough word to
describe the conversations I’ve had over the last few days. I did,
however, find a few decent places in Brooklyn. It isn’t the
Manhattan location I have always wanted, but it is a move in the
right direction at least.” I give her a wistful smile.


My only concern is that,
after my security deposit, first month’s rent, and things like food
and dishes to eat off of, I’ll have nothing left over to hire a
mover. Granted, I don’t have much in the way of furniture—Candy
will soon be enjoying the comforts of my Temperpedic mattress—I
still need to get my stuff moved,” I mutter as Mindy glances over
my shoulder at what must be one of our co-workers walking
past.


Oh, oh!” Mindy begins
practically jumping up and down still looking out the door of the
small kitchen. “I know someone who would be more than willing to
help you move.” Mindy says looking back to me with a devilish
grin.

What the fuck was she
looking at?
I turn toward the door but
don’t see anything.


Seriously, not this again,
Mindy. You know Henry isn’t my type. He’s way too shy, and those
glasses do nothing for me.”


Geeze, I’m not telling you
to sleep with him, although you never know. He may be packing some
serious heat. I’ve checked out the
Chucks
that he wears on more then
one occasion. You know what they say about guys with big feet.
Besides, how do you know he isn’t your type? Maybe he is exactly
what you need.” Mindy lifts her shoulders with a questioning glare.
“Just bat your eyelashes, show a little cleavage, and I’m positive
he’d offer to move the earth for you if you asked.”

Henry started working at
Klein Associates about six months ago. He is a sweet guy, but not
someone I would ever consider my type. For starters, he is really
quiet. He’s not necessarily one of those awkward, stumbling over
his words quiet types, just politely quiet and reserved. In no way
can I picture Henry “packing heat,” as Mindy so eloquently put it
and I’ve never looked at his feet.
Who
does that?
Taking me against a wall in
some seedy bar bathroom or ravaging me in a stairwell is probably
so far out of his comfort zone he wouldn’t even know what to do.
Then again, as much fun as those experiences were, do I really want
a repeat of my relationship with Braydon?


Maybe,” I reply, “but I’m
not really into using men, regardless of how desperate I may be.
I’m sure I can figure something out. Maybe, if I beg my parents,
they’ll take pity on me and help.”


Well, if you change your
mind, you know where his office is.” Mindy gives me a wink, and
proceeds to get up from the table and saunter out of the
kitchen.

***

H
enry

Walking past the lunchroom, I hear Kate say
my name. I am just about to turn back around and walk in to see
what she wants when the next words tumble out of her mouth and make
me stop abruptly.


You know Henry isn’t my
type. He is way too shy, and those glasses do nothing for
me.”

Damn, that hurt like a punch
to the gut. I have no idea what they are talking about or how my
name came up but now I’m glued in place, eavesdropping.
I should probably keep walking; the
fact that anyone can walk by and see me being a
complete perv is making my palms sweat. This is Kate, though, and I
really want to know what’s happening.

I could tell the moment she walked into the
building this morning that she wasn’t herself. Her smile didn’t
quite reach her eyes, and her usual morning greeting didn’t hold
the same enthusiasm. Did I do something wrong that I don’t
remember?

I’m wracking my brain for possible answers
when Mindy starts speculating about the size of my dick and tells
Kate to just show some cleavage to get what she wants from me. What
the fuck? Okay, so yes, if Kate asked for a favor, it’s pretty much
a guarantee that I would do everything in my power to help,
regardless of her tits. A little cleavage wouldn’t hurt, though.
Great, now I can’t get the image of her naked chest out of my
head.

Tossing that thought aside before I really
start to look like a perv with a hard on, I remain standing as
still as possible and continue listening. I am a bit more relieved
when it sounds like Mindy is actually on my side and encouraging
Kate to at least consider the idea of us. Us?

When I hear the sounds of a chair scraping
along the floor, I take that as my cue to move along, but not
before I make a mental note to corner Mindy later today and find
out what the hell is going on.

Chapter Two

 

After my talk with Mindy
this morning the day continues to drag. I can’t focus and find
myself staring into space for most of the afternoon. Trying to
clear the tangle of thoughts clouding my mind, I decide to head
over to Bikram Yoga NYC for a class after work. There is nothing
like ninety minutes of twisting your body into the most unnatural
positions imaginable in one hundred and four degree heat with forty
percent humidity to give you new focus.

The first time I took a
class with my friend Tina I thought she was insane for even
suggesting it. Only a masochist could enjoy such punishment, but I
gave it a try, not wanting to be the weak whiny friend. When the
class was over and after I gulped down an entire gallon of water to
replace what was lost from the sweat that spilled down my body in
waves I actually felt really freaking good. My muscles ached and my
face and chest were stained blotchy red. I was sticky and smelly
and my yoga shorts were so far up my ass I could almost guarantee
there was cheek showing but I didn’t care. I was riding the
endorphin wave and feeling oh-so-good. I was hooked and have been
since, attending at least 3 classes a week whenever I
can.

Class tonight is no
different. I grunt and twist and sweat and then sweat some more. I
don’t think of Braydon or the stress of trying to find an
apartment. Instead, I close off my mind and just focus on the
delicious pull of my muscles. By the end of class I feel fantastic.
I’m buzzing with so much energy by the time I get home that I
decide it’s the perfect time to start going through my things in
the apartment. Toss the junk, donate what I don’t use anymore, but
is still in good condition and box up the items I plan to take with
me. I convince myself that I am feeling more optimistic about my
future and begin to look forward to finally getting into a new
apartment and truly making it my own. This place was Braydon’s
before I got here and while it’s clean and comfortable it never
fully felt like mine.

After a quick shower I head
to the kitchen to grab a few trash bags before making my way back
to the bedroom closet I shared with Braydon. It’s on the small
side, but we have managed to make everything fit if you ignore the
fact that removing items could put you at risk. It is like playing
a game of Jenga, pull on the wrong sweater and the whole stack
could possibly come crashing down.

Sitting crossed legged on
the floor at the threshold I decide my safest option is to start
with the shoes and boxes at the bottom. I can always get one of my
sisters or even Braydon to come and help with the top shelves
later. Pulling shoeboxes out and checking under the lids I realize
this may be a bigger task than I anticipated.
I’m really leaving.
At that
thought
I feel my yoga high start to wane.
Letting out a big yawn I shift my legs out from under me to stretch
- hoping the change in position will wake me up a bit - but it
doesn’t help. As I continue to fade doubts begin to creep back
in.

Can I really do
this?

Giving up on the closet, I
stand and make my way over to the bed. Drawing the sheets back I
pause, a sense of loss wrapping around me before finally climbing
in. In a matter of just an hour I went from optimistic to feeling
completely defeated. The lingering soreness of my limbs, which
usually comes with a nod of accomplishment, isn’t enough to bring
me out of my newfound funk. Crawling under the covers I sink down
into the cool sheets hoping to find solace in its comfort, but it
is as fleeting as my many moods today. Letting my eyes wander from
the blue walls that surround me to the mismatched furniture and
then up to the gently whirring ceiling fan, I try to pinpoint
exactly what it is that I am going to miss about this place. What
is making me feel so heavy hearted?

The most honest conclusion I
can come to is that it’s not this place or even Braydon that I will
miss. What I am going to miss desperately is a sense of belonging.
I have my family and I know they are there for me, but it’s not the
same thing as having a partner, that one person who knows you
completely. Having someone by your side to share your day with, to
vent to when your angry, laugh with when you’re being silly and
feel content with when you’re happy. Even if my relationship with
Braydon was just a mirage that resembled the real thing it at least
made me feel as if I did belong.

Mindy’s words echo in my
mind reminding me that maybe I don’t have to do this alone. Henry
lives in the area I am looking to move to. I’ve never really given
him much consideration, whether it was because I had a boyfriend or
because he is just so quiet I’m not sure, but now I cant help but
think of him and smile just a little. Although my smile may just be
because of Mindy’s comment on his dick size, but can you blame a
girl? I’m young and newly single and I enjoy dicks! Don’t get me
wrong though, just because I am now full on picturing Henry’s
todger, I have no expectations of jumping into a relationship. I’m
not stupid enough to think a new boyfriend will make everything
better. I understand that it’s going to take time to get myself
settled before I can even think about starting something new. Lord
knows I don’t know the first thing about Henry but that doesn’t
mean I can’t think about certain parts of his anatomy just for
shits and giggles. At least it is helping to get the negative
depressing thoughts out of my head so I can finally drift off to
sleep.

Chapter Three

 


Hi, Kate,” I hear a
familiar voice coming from behind me.

Turning around in the narrow
hallway that leads from my office to the main reception area, I see
Henry standing behind me.


Oh, hi, Henry. How are
you?” I ask with a friendly smile.


Good, thanks.

As I am about to turn back
around and walk the remaining distance to my office, I am caught
off guard when Henry continues to speak. A polite hello or goodbye
is usually the only interaction I have with him, so the fact that
he is getting ready to say more has me intrigued.

With his head down, averting
direct eye contact, he continues, “So… umm… I was chatting with
Mindy yesterday, and she mentioned you and your boyfriend broke up.
I hope you don’t mind that she told me, but she also said you were
looking to move possibly to Brooklyn Heights. I actually live in
the neighborhood and thought maybe I could be of help. Maybe offer
you a tour? We have a great coffee shop, and everything of
importance is within walking distance of it.”

To be honest, the first
thing that pops into my head is to decline, but then I think about
how miserable I felt last night and my conversation with Mindy.
This is my chance to start over, and even though Henry may not be
my type, it would be nice to have a friend in my new
neighborhood.


You know what? That sounds
fantastic.”

At my response, Henry
finally looks up at me, and our eyes connect. He has the goofiest
grin on his face, and it makes my tummy tingle for the slightest
moment.

BOOK: Lucky: A Love Lane Short
3.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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