Authors: Kristen Ashley

Tags: #Magdalene

Soaring (31 page)

BOOK: Soaring

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“Don’t have to think,” he returned instantly and also quietly, only for me. “If you give me that shot, I don’t know what’s gonna happen. If this goes somewhere, we both gotta know that won’t always be smooth. That happens, that’ll be ours. But what I handed you last night that you didn’t do shit to deserve, swear to Christ, Amy, I won’t need any second chances.”

Swear to Christ, Amy, I won’t need any second chances.

That’ll be ours.

Ours.

That sounded amazing.

“Yeah?” he called when I drifted away.

I focused on him. “Okay, Mickey.”

“Hope you make the right choice, baby,” he whispered right before he walked away.

I hoped I did to.

“Do you need to come in for a shot of bourbon?” Mr. Dennison called.

My body jolted and I looked to the windows.

“No, Mr. Dennison, thanks!” I called back.

“Is it only me who sees Nazis conspiring in the parking lot?” Mrs. McMurphy asked tetchily.

I loved that woman.

No matter what I was feeling, like right then I was feeling a lot, and even if she had no intention of doing it…

She always had me smiling.

* * * * *

“Oh my God, I want your life,” Robin declared.

It was early that evening, we were on the phone, and I’d told her everything.

“Not sure it’s as fun living it,” I mumbled.

“I haven’t had sex since my personal trainer moved to Vegas,” she retorted.

“
Eek.
”

Yes, I made that noise out loud.

“You understand me,” she mumbled.

I did.

Then again, I hadn’t had sex since the night before Conrad told me he was leaving me, and I’d obviously not had sex with anyone other than Conrad for two decades.

Something else to fret about for I had a feeling Mickey hadn’t abstained since he kicked his wife out.

Maybe sex was like riding a bike.

God, I hoped so.

I curled my legs deeper under me in my sectional and asked, “So what should I do?”

“Honestly?” she asked back.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” I told her.

“Okay, then honestly, if we never again took a chance on love, then our ex-asses would win. They’d beat us. Completely.”

I drew breath sharply into my nose.

I’d recently realized I’d been beaten, and often, and not only allowed that to happen but had given away my power in order for it to happen.

And I’d also recently made the determination that had to stop.

“So,” she continued, “if this doesn’t work, it doesn’t. If you have a spell where you go to your nursing home and decorate your house and go to movies by yourself, you do. If you find another guy, you try. But it would suck if we let those assholes beat us. It would suck if we let normal shit a lot of women endure and then bounce back from take us down for the count. So we shouldn’t. You should ride this out. Be smart. But see where it will take you. And hopefully at the very least it will take you to out of the zone of self-induced orgasms and into a new zone that feels a whole lot nicer.”

Her words were wise.

I just wondered if she heard them as she said them.

“Robin—” I started.

“Lawr isn’t the only one waking up while watching you go through the tough stuff,” she said quietly.

My heart settled.

Wouldn’t it be great if my brother and best friend were happy?

Wouldn’t it be even better if they found happy
together
?

It was too good to believe.

But I hoped for it all the same.

“Anyway, my ex-ass’s wife is a lesbian and he’s soon going to be paying double alimony, so if that’s not a shot in the pants, nothing is,” she added.

I burst out laughing.

She laughed with me.

My doorbell rang at the same time there came a pounding.

I twisted to it, heart starting to hammer, thinking I’d see Mickey in the frame and that was definitely early indication he was angry about something.

But I didn’t see Mickey.

I saw two bodies, both appeared female.

I had a feeling the afternoon nursing home entertainment had made the rounds.

“I think my friends Josie and Alyssa are here,” I said as the pounding kept coming and I folded out of my couch.

“Old folks talking,” she muttered.

“My guess…yes,” I confirmed.

“I’ll let you go, but sweetie?”

“Yeah?” I asked, ascending the living room steps.

“Go for it. Don’t let him shit on you. But take a chance on being happy.”

I smiled at my phone as I lifted my hand to the lock. “Thanks, sweets.”

“Later, darling.”

“’Bye, honey.”

We disconnected and I opened the door.

The instant I did, Alyssa sniped, “Seriously? Mickey?
And you didn’t say anything
?”

She pushed in and did it carrying what appeared to be a chilled bottle of vodka.

I turned to Josie to see her waving toward the driveway. I looked beyond her to see Jake pulling out of my drive in his truck.

“Apparently, we’re getting drunk,” Josie said under her breath when she turned to me. “Jake’s designated driver but he’s not staying for the inebriation part.”

As I moved out of her way, I thought that was a good choice, considering his company all had vaginas, he did not and the topic of conversation was undoubtedly going to be his friend who also didn’t.

She came in and I closed the door, observing, “Small town, fast talk.”

“You got that right, sister!” Alyssa yelled from the kitchen. “I cannot believe you didn’t tell us!”

“I didn’t want to be talking to you two about Mickey behind his back. You guys are friends with him,” I told them.

“So?” Alyssa returned. “I’m friends with a lot of people and that doesn’t stop me from talking, and listening, behind their backs. I’m a hairdresser, for God’s sake, if these lips are loose,” she pointed to her mouth, “clients find another maven with the mojo to beautify.”

“I also wouldn’t talk,” Josie said, slipping onto one of my stools. “But I do appreciate you not sharing. For Mickey’s sake. I wouldn’t say anything to anyone else but, of course, I’d need to share with my husband and that would be awkward.”

“I share with my husband too, but he’s long since learned to tune that shit out when I’m yapping at him. This happened when I told him Carver Hoover had a penis ring. I start yammering,” she waved a hand over her face, “Junior’s
gone
.”

I looked to the vodka her other hand was curled around then to her.

“I don’t have mixers,” I shared, if only to get us off the subject of penis rings.

“Who needs mixers when we’re doin’ shots?” she asked.

I looked to Josie.

Josie’s eyes twinkled and she shrugged.

Alyssa started slamming through my cupboards, “Please tell me in all the buying sprees you went on, you bought shot glasses.”

“I didn’t,” I admitted.

“Whatevs,” she mumbled, pulled down some juice glasses and started pouring.

“So, apparently, there’s a decision to be made.”

This was surprisingly a prompt from Josie.

I looked to her. “It’s a long story, but we’ll just say, things with Mickey and me have been rocky.”

She nodded.

“We’ll get to the long story later. Decision now,” Alyssa demanded, scooting glasses across the counter to us. “Have you made one?”

I took my glass and stared at it.

Then I lifted it and shot it.

I let the chill glide through me and looked to my friends.

“I’m terrified, and I’m terrified because I think I’m pretty much half in love with him already, so if I didn’t at least take a chance, I’d never forgive myself,” I announced.

“
Right on
!” Alyssa screeched to the ceiling then immediately did her shot.

Josie’s eyes twinkled again as she lifted her glass and sipped.

When she was done, she said quietly, “He’s a very good man.”

I licked my lips and pressed them together.

“The
best
,” Alyssa concurred.

I started rolling my lips.

“If things work, I believe he’ll make you very happy, Amelia,” Josie added.

I stopped rolling my lips and clenched my teeth.

“You’re scared,” Alyssa noted.

I looked to her. “Like I said, terrified.”

“No,” she replied gently. “Scared of it working.”

“I—”

“And
then
collapsing,” she finished.

I swallowed and nodded.

She poured more vodka in our glasses then lifted hers.

I took that cue and lifted mine.

Josie did the same.

“There is nothing guaranteed in life. But the only leaps really worth taking are leaps of faith on love. So look where you leap, beautiful, and happy landing,” Alyssa toasted.

I smiled and raised my glass a smidge. They did too.

Then we all shot them back (even Josie).

Alyssa crashed hers to the bar and demanded loudly, “Now! The long story!”

I slid onto a stool and, on command, shared a long, hopeful story with my new friends.

* * * * *

I sat in my nightie on my bed, knees to my chest, one arm around my calves, phone in my other hand.

It was late. I was tipsy. Josie and Alyssa were gone.

And I thought it was time to call Mickey.

My mother would disagree since it was well past nine. In fact it was well past eleven.

But if I were him, I wouldn’t want to have to go to sleep not knowing.

Maybe he didn’t care that much.

But it seemed he did.

So he should know.

I activated my phone and slid my thumb over the screen. When I found his contact, I hit go.

I put the phone to my ear.

It rang once and then I got sweet and low, “Hey, Amy.”

“Hey,” I replied.

“Your posse hit the road?” he asked.

“Were your ears burning?” I asked back.

“Can take it,” he muttered.

I drew in breath.

“Mickey,” I called.

“I’m here,” he replied.

“I like you,” I whispered.

“Fuck.” It sounded pained.

“Mickey?” I called again, more urgently.

“Here, Amy, and I’m glad, baby, ’cause I hope you get I like you too.”

“So maybe we should go to dinner?” I suggested.

There was no pain in his voice but a smile when he replied, “Yeah, maybe we should.”

“Okay,” I said quietly.

“Okay,” he returned. “You goin’ to bed?”

“I’m in bed.”

There was a pause before he said, “Let you go then, Amy.”

“Okay, Mickey.”

“Later, babe.”

Something about this ending wasn’t right. It was abrupt, not soft and sweet and gentle like it had started.

I felt funny about it but I replied, “Later.”

He hung up.

I took the phone from my ear and stared at it.

God, I hoped he wasn’t one of those thrill of the chase men who caught their prey and lost interest in it.

But I couldn’t jump to conclusions. He had kids. They were still with him. School didn’t start until next week so they could still be up and something could have happened to take Mickey’s attention.

I put my phone to my nightstand, got under the covers, turned out the light and pulled the covers up to my shoulder, snuggling in.

I was wide awake.

And I was thinking I’d agreed to have dinner with Mickey but then he’d ended the call before we’d even made plans.

“Oh God,” I breathed.

My doorbell rang.

My head shot off the pillow as a shiver stole over my skin.

The doorbell rang again.

My hand threw back the covers as my feet threw themselves over the side of the bed.

I hit the floor and started running. Running in my little navy satin nightie with its plum lace (an Alyssa choice, no skank, all class, very sexy) right to the front door.

The motion sensor light was activated.

Mickey was shadowed through the glass.

I unlocked it, threw it open and looked up just in time to find myself in the strong arms of Mickey Donovan, his mouth on mine, and he was kissing me.

I let him, pressed close to his heat, held on tight and kissed him back.

We made out, wet and sweet and hard and wild, on my landing in the open front door and we did it for a
really long time
.

I loved every
fucking
second.

Arm tight around the small of my back, me up on tiptoes, Mickey mostly supporting my weight, his other hand in my hair, my arms wound around his shoulders, Mickey ended it.

Slowly, my lips bruised and tingling—
lots
of things tingling—my eyes drifted open.

“Lobster Market tomorrow night at seven?” he asked, his voice thick, his eyes through the shadows I could actually
feel
were heated.

I felt a giggle of pure joy bubble inside of me, forced it down to a smile and breathed, “Works for me.”

“No kids,” he said. “Just you and me.”

I nodded, holding on just as he kept holding me. “Just you and me.”

He dipped so close that his nose brushed mine. “You made the right choice, Amy.”

Current evidence was strongly suggesting I did.

“Not certain there was another choice, Mickey,” I admitted and he grinned.

I had it back.

I loved that too.

He bent to put my feet on the floor and started to let me go. I figured it would be a little clingy at this juncture to hold on tight, so I let him.

With one arm still around me, he lifted his other hand and brushed my bangs out of my eyes.