Shame On Me (2 page)

Chapter Two

The Boys

Sunday

My weekend flew by uneventfully. Saturday Ava and I sat around the house watching cartoons in the morning and movies later on in the afternoon while munching on some pizza.

I wake up Sunday morning and attend the early morning service at my church. I know people call me a hypocrite but I don’t feel that way at all. I never deny that I like to go out with my friends and have a drink from time to time. I never pretend that I’m not a flawed individual.

Besides isn’t church the place you’re supposed to go to be delivered and receive a covering? I was always taught that you give God praise and thanks for bringing you through the week safely and that is exactly what I do.

My church has a casual dress code and I love it. I don’t feel uncomfortable for not dressing up in a suit or dress and when I do dress up I feel as comfortable as I do in my jeans. During service I sing along with the praise team, give my offering, pay my tithes (I never miss a week), and take in the message from my pastor.

At the end of service I speak to a few of the fellow members and head home. Ava promised me that she would go to the track with me and run a few laps to help work off the two million calories I inhaled this weekend; and I plan to help her keep her word.

****

After the work out, I prepare my lunch and choose my outfit for work in the morning. I am in no way a morning person so it is imperative that I get as organized as possible the night before.

By the time I’m done everything it’s two in the afternoon and I’m bored stiff. Going to bed this early would be pointless and sitting around the house bored is not conducive for my mindset. So I decide to call Malik.

“Hello?”

“Boy are you asleep?”

“I’m just getting up from a nap.”

“So does your nap mean you gained enough energy to talk trash during the game today?”

“You know it! Are you coming today?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you and the boys at the bar in a half.”

“Okay, see you there.”

I enter the sports bar and scan the tables looking for the boys. The
boys
are a group of guys made up of Malik, James, Chris, and Calvin. I have only seen the boys hang out with each other but today there is another person with them. He’s standing at the table laughing with them and I pause in the doorway to take in his profile.

He looks tall (but I think everyone is tall considering I’m only 5’3”), has dark hair that looks like its been pulled back into a hastily constructed man bun, a body that shows he works out (
a lot
), a tattoo on his right arm that I can’t see clearly, and a laugh that I wouldn’t mind hearing up close and personal.

I can’t see the color of his eyes so I begin making my way to the table to meet this intriguing marvel. When I’m barely ten feet away the stranger turns his back to me and walks away.

Damn.

For some reason this stranger has piqued my interest and I’m determined to learn more about him. I casually plop my butt onto the only unoccupied stool and hope I sound uninterested when I ask, “Who was that?”

The boys slowly turn their synchronized gazes to me like some scene out of a creepy horror film.

They’re not saying anything, just staring.

I try to wait them out but all this silence and staring is getting creepy.

And awkward.

When the silence continues I decide to break eye contact and feign interest in my menu.

Eventually Malik clears his throat and says, “That’s Ethan.”

“Oh, who’s Ethan?” I don’t want to seem interested so I keep my gaze locked on my menu.

“A guy we know.”

Jeez he isn’t going to make this easy for me. I look at the other guys for help, but all they do is silently stare at me.

“How do you know him?” I ask on a sigh.

“Through some people,” Malik responds with a smirk. I do a quick scan of the rest of the guys and notice they all are sporting similar smirks. Jeez they’re acting weird, like Stepford husbands weird.

“Why are ya’ll looking so creepy?”

“Why do you want to know about Ethan?” Calvin asks.

I shrug before stating, “I saw him at the table and I was just curious.”

“Why are you curious?” he pushes.

“Forget it,” I reply on a sigh.

Calvin is the romantic of the group and I need to shut this shit down immediately. I look anxiously around the bar for a waitress because I need a drink ASAP.

“Do you like him?” Chris asks in a singsong voice.

“What do I have to do to get a drink around here?” I huff still avoiding their gazes.

“If you admit you like him we’ll tell you more about him,” Calvin says in that annoying singsong voice that I would have normally found funny had it not been directed at me.

“I don’t like him!” I respond tersely.

Before Calvin can say anything else, the waitress arrives with a pitcher of beer and appetizers. We all start shoveling food into our mouths and I’m grateful that the conversation is over. I should have known better. The boys rarely witness me interested in someone so I should have expected them to milk it for all that its worth.

“He’s an anesthesia nurse,” Chris offers matter-of-factly as if I asked if it was raining outside.

“Who is?” I ask with my eyes glued to the screen.

“Your future husband.”

My body freezes, including the mug that was making its way to my suddenly dry mouth. I can’t stop my eyes from narrowing when I ask, “Why would you say that?”

He makes a production of leaning his forearms on top of the table and staring directly into my eyes. “I have never known you to be interested in anyone enough to ask us for any information so I figured it must be love or some shit like that.” At the end of his statement he cocks his head to the side and smiles at me. I respond with a roll of my eyes and take a generous sip of my beer.

“All I asked was how did you know him. How does that translate to me being in love with him? We’re not fifteen anymore guys; I can have a hitter relationship with him.”

At my declaration Calvin folds his arms across his chest and glares at me. Uh oh, I’m in for it now. “He’s twenty-eight, never been married, was engaged once but shit didn’t work out, been single for nine months, owns a car, has a house in town, and makes decent money. He’s a good guy and deserves a woman who’ll treat him right. We won’t let you treat him like a hitter.”

“I never stop you guys from turning girls into hitters.”

“We never turn good girls into hitters.”

“There is no point in this conversation because I’m not even interested in him.”

At this point James has had enough of my game and decides to speak up. “ You need to learn to be open and not treat every guy you’re attracted to like a hitter. I think you two are a good match and you should give him a fair chance.”

I slowly slide my gaze from James to the others around the table. The entire table has their gaze locked on James but he only has eyes for me. Once he’s sure that I understand him, he nods his head and turns his attention back to the screen.

James is the strong silent type, but when he speaks he’s usually right. I sigh as I realize that I’m screwed. Now the boys will do whatever they can to stick Ethan and I in each other’s path.

I normally wouldn’t mind being in the path of a guy like Ethan, but I can tell that the boys won’t just let me hit it and quit it. Now that they have it in their head that we’ll fall in love, I can’t pursue anything with him.

****

Monday

“Tell me you love it,” he whispers in my ear.

“Baby I love it.”

“How much?”

“So much baby, so, so, much,” I say as he pounds into me. He’s bigger than I thought he’d be and is hitting spots I never knew existed.

“Am I your only one?”

“Yes.”

“Say it.”

“You’re my only one.”

“Is it mine?”

“Its yours baby. Its all yours.”

“How good is it?”

“So good.”

“I can’t hear you Mia.”

“So effing good!”

“Are you going to cum?”

“Yes!”

“How hard?”

“So hard!”

“Show me. Show me how hard you can cum.”

He reaches between us and strokes my clit into submission and my orgasm has tears forming. He continues to pound into me and only comes after I chant his name.

“Ethan.”

“Ethan.”

“Ethan…”

****

I jerk upright in bed breathing hard and sweating. That was the third dream tonight! Shit I’m so screwed.

I fall back to the bed and stare at ceiling. I take a peek at the alarm clock and groan when I realize it’s almost time to get up. After another ten minutes of staring at the ceiling, I crawl out of bed and take a
long
shower.

Chapter Three

Something Different

At my workstation I quietly sip on the iced caramel coffee that I need in order to get going every morning.

“I don’t know why you don’t find a night job since you obviously struggle so much in the morning.”

“I don’t want to resort to a manual labor job just so I can sleep in,” I say to my coworker Sarah on a yawn.

“I have a cousin who went to Bartending School and makes a hundred dollars in tips minimum but on a weekend she can pull in nearly five hundred dollars. She’s been tending for over a year now so you may not make that much starting out but its still a decent amount. You should try it out.” She whispers the last part because our head teller is giving us the stink eye. I nod my head to let her know I’ll think about it and I do.

By the time I get home from work I have my plan formulated. I figured out that I have more than enough in my savings account to cover my monthly bills while I change career paths. I’ll still be working at the bank while I attend Bartending School so I probably won’t have to touch my savings at all. I’m sure I’ll be exhausted but at least my finances will be covered for a while.

I did some initial research at work and found a school that will allow me to take afternoon classes. I will work 7:30am-4:00pm at the bank and attend classes from 5:00pm-9:00pm Monday through Friday. I plan to use the weekends to recuperate as well as scout out bars to work at.

****

As soon as Ava arrives home I inform her of my plan and I think she is more excited than I am. “It’s a good thing this development was up and coming and when we bought our house!”

She’s right.

Had we not purchased our house during a buyers market, I wouldn’t be able to afford a career change at all. We were blessed enough to purchase a two bedroom townhome with a garage, two and a half bathrooms, with an enclosed back deck. If we had waited another year the bank would not have even considered approving us for the hefty price the houses now go for.

“We have to go out and celebrate!” Ava squeals.

“Yes we do but lets wait until later on in the week.” Ava nods her head in agreement and heads to the kitchen. I return to my room and print out my two weeks notice that I’ve had sitting on my computer for months.

****

Two weeks later…Friday

The two weeks were hard work but I did it! I finished Bartending School and today is my last day as a teller. I was able to land a job at two bars. Monday through Friday I will work at Eternally Young bar and grill (a.k.a. The Grill) and on Saturdays I will work at a club called Ice. To celebrate my new employment Ava and I are going to The Grill to party.

I put on a pair of white shorts, royal blue stiletto sandals, and an off the shoulder royal blue midriff top.  I took the time to curl my hair this morning in celebration of my last day, and the curls still look cute enough that I don’t have to do anything to them. I throw on some eyeliner, mascara, and lip-gloss to finish off my look. I will be pulling on my shorts all night but at least I’ll look cute doing it.

I’m waiting for Ava by the door when she appears in a hunter green dress that hugs all of her curves and is barely legal to wear in public. I can tell she went all out with her look tonight as I take in her smoky eye, false lashes, blush, foundation, and lipstick.

Ava takes in my outfit with approval but rolls her eyes when she see’s my makeup. She has long ago stopped trying to force me to get all girly when we go out. Lip-gloss and mascara is as far as I’m willing to take it.

When we pull in to The Grill’s parking lot we can hear the music and it sounds like the DJ has the place turned up and it’s only 10 pm!

We make our way to the security line where D checks your ID before you’re allowed to enter. Since we’re only blocks away from Sunset Cove University (a.k.a. Cove U) on Friday and Saturday The Grill allows you to be eighteen to enter but twenty-one to drink.

Tim (the other security guy) notices me immediately and waves us to the front of the line. Without looking my way D throws a large hand out in my general direction and confiscates my ID. His eyes quickly scan my birth date but once it reaches my photo he turns his confused gaze my way.