Five Years Later
Carter
A lot has changed. A lot.
It’s strange to think that I’m not in college anymore. That I’m out on my own, living and fending for myself in this big bad world. I’ve moved away from home and Mississippi. LA is where I call home, and I couldn’t be happier. I’m surrounded by palm trees, shirtless guys, and stick-thin models looking for their big break. And don’t get me started on the aspiring actors and actresses in this town.
There’re flocks of them.
This atmosphere is so beautiful. The humid air every morning, the slight breeze touching your skin; skateboards, beaches, boardwalks, carnivals, and music all decorate this place. It really is beautiful at times.
I’m trying to make it into this business on my own without my last name as an aid. It’s something that I’ve always wanted, but I now realize just how hard I must work to get it and maintain it.
But I’m a new person. One who has grown to be more comfortable in my own skin. I’m still shy, but not as much as I used to be. This growth in finding myself has helped me a lot.
My friends and family have a lot to do with that. It was a laborious process and continues to be one, one I know I will make for a lifetime. I still suffer horrendously from anxiety and panic attacks but that’s something I can never get rid of. I just have to learn to control it.
As I make my way through the queues of palm trees in my car that has broken down too many times to count. I had to get rid of my Mercedes to pay for the rent in my small house. My dad wanted to pay for me, but I outrightly refused but thanked him for his help. I told him that I could do it on my own. I know I can do it. It’s hard, but not impossible.
“Do you have any idea why Haley wants us to go to dinner tomorrow night? I will literally have to run out from my work to make it on time. You know what she’s like when you’re late,” I ask to recipient in my phone while I roll my eyes and prepare myself for my Monday morning shift for work.
I live thirty minutes away from the physical therapist’s office that I got the job from after I graduated from college. I went job hunting for months until I came across this place, and I’ve been working here ever since then. I’ve always wanted to work in California, so I work in downtown LA, where it’s a nightmare to get parking in the morning. I try to leave extra early so I can get there on time and get a free space.
“Girl, if I had any idea I would tell you.” Danielle chuckles back to me.
“NO!” I could hear my niece shriek at her mom down the line. “NO! Mommy, NO!” she yells again. I flinch a little at the high-pitched scream that tailed her words. She would put the banshee to shame. I could tell that she really isn’t up for going to school today. She’s only a four-ear-old and she can probably get away with murder in the family. She’s the diva.
You’re probably curious how I got a niece. Well, let me backtrack a little. Remember when I said that Danielle acted shady when it came to her phone when she was messaging someone? Turns out, that someone was my older brother, Chris, who got her knocked up the next year after secretly dating her for a year and a half.
Yeah, Danielle got pregnant with Taylor in our second year of college. When she did, she postponed her degree to have the baby and then moved out to be with Chris. She toured with him around the country as he continued his NFL career. He got transferred the Titans, then to the Giants to work with my dad and my oldest brother, who is still there, but now, he’s landed himself back in LA, playing for the team he really loves. They really do like each other, so neither of them were too worried about moving around or about raising a child. So, Danielle went back to college. Well, night college. She just completed her degree recently.
She got a lot of backlash from the media about it, calling her a gold-digger and mentioned how she had trapped my brother. All those accusations mainly came from his ex-flings who wanted what she had with him. Jealousy is such an ugly trait, I think to myself as I remember all this. My parents weren’t the happiest either, but they came around as soon as she was born. Chris also dotes over their first child a lot.
The first grandchild is spoiled rotten by my dad too. When Chris has an away game and Danielle wants to go but doesn’t want Taylor to miss school, I take her for the few nights and let her watch her dad on the TV when she stays at my place. She can be the moodiest four-year-old and the sweetest four-year-old you’ll ever meet, it depends on how she feels in the morning or about the person she’s with.
“Taylor! You’re going and that’s it. Don’t try to get out of it today! Taylor! Give me that, now! CHRIS!” she yells at her mini-Danielle, threatening her to stop whining about going to school like every other kid in the country. You make a mixture out of Chris and Danielle and you get Taylor, a smart-mouthed four-year-old that relishes in driving her parents demented. A perfect concoction of her two parents. “CHRIS!” she calls again for my brother. “Here, get her to eat her breakfast, I need to talk to Carter.” I can hear a faint “Hi” from him down the line, to which I retort back the same way, and a yell from my niece who then decides to clap her hands rapidly.
“Aunt Carter!! Hiii . . .” her cute voice makes me giggle. I greet her back as I decelerate at a stop sign. She’s a very bubbly girl this morning, but she knows how to push her mom’s buttons when she’s not getting her own way. She’s a complete daddy’s girl and Danielle knows it.
Danielle has been working hard to retain the title of being the central woman in Chris’ life since giving birth by trying to get a ring on her finger, but my brother’s attention is always taken by his daughter. They aren’t married—or even engaged—yet, and I honestly don’t understand why it’s taking my brother so long. It’s not like he’s going to be with anyone else; nobody other than Danielle can put up with him. They are perfect for each other—too perfect, if you ask me.
“Are the terrible fours a thing? Or is it the fearful fours? Because in my house, it currently is,” Danielle mumbles sarcastically to me. She is exactly like Danielle, it’s too funny. Bold and loud, neither of them has a filter, but that’s just how my brother likes it.
“I’m sure you were like that at her age. Where do you think she gets it from?” I tease her, and she orders me to shut up. I snort back as I continue my way down to the parallel lines painted on the dark street, the air conditioning blasting in the hot car as I travel to work so I’m cool by the time I arrive.
“So, as I was saying . . . do you think she’s preggers? Or what?” I blink back to myself, trying to process that information. What if she is pregnant? I know she’s been trying for a while, but her parents want her to get married first, so they always nag to TJ about it when they see him.
I don’t see them very often. I see Lynn sometimes when she travels up here with a very grown-up Ellie, who, to my surprise, still remembers who I am after all the years. Lynn treats me like she always has, with compassion and kind-heartedness. I don’t speak much to her dad, and she understands why. We never bring up Nick though. It’s an unspoken topic for everyone; more out of respect for me.
It was too much for my little heart when we broke up. I sobbed for a solid three months. I cried when I woke up, cried when I ate, cried when I read, and cried when I slept. I skipped my classes for two weeks to mend my broken heart and to pull myself back together. My parents had to fly down to see that I was broken. My dad wanted to speak with him, but I begged him not to. I had to fight him tooth and nail on it, pleading that he should just leave it because he would just make it worse. I begged him not to go near him, talk to him, or talk about him. I had enough. I reached my dead end, and I wanted to forget those rough times.
Even to this day, it still hurts. Five years on, and he still creeps into my thoughts.
He was my very first love. I can never forget him, especially when he’s doing so well in the NFL. He’s crushing it. He’s popular on social media too. People can’t get enough of the bad boy of the NFL. Bad boy Jackson. I mentally cringe at what they call him. No doubt, the women in marketing came up with that one.
TJ and Haley are still going strong. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t jealous because I wanted what they have. Happiness. I hope to get it with my new boyfriend. We’ve been official for just over a year now. He’s in marketing for this big media company that works in TV, I forget the name of it, and he is not a football player. I don’t need it to be fast paced, that’s when things go wrong. I like the pace it’s at right now, slow and steady.
“I have no idea? Maybe it’s something to do with work or something? I don’t know . . . I don’t think TJ is ready for a bundle of joy just yet. He’s been threatened too many times to put a ring on her finger first!” I joke, making us both chuckle.
As I park up at the nearest spot to work, I sit in my car and talk to Danielle on the phone before I go in and start my schedule for the day. I mainly work with injuries and older people who have had surgery or have come out of the hospital after being injured in an accident. I love talking to them, they’re the friendliest people.
They always stop and have a chat with the therapists before they leave. Sometimes, they’d bring us cakes and food that they have made at home. This job helped me work on my people skills, building my confidence to talk to new people little by little. At first, I was super shy and one hundred percent awkward, but now, I don’t think twice about talking to people. I’m still an introvert at heart and do go through my shy spells, but most of the time, I just get on with it and get my work done because I wouldn’t get paid otherwise.
“Whatever it is, I’m dying to know! Is Ted coming?” Ted is my boyfriend, who works like crazy. I barely get to see him. Danielle set us up when we met at the grocery store. I thought he was cute. She was my wingwoman for the entire embarrassing encounter. I had no makeup on and was in a baggy jumper and ripped shorts that screamed hobo vibes. I still, to this very day, don’t understand why he agreed to a date with me. He gets a few looks from women whenever we’re out and I don’t blame them. Still, we went out and we still are going out now. He’s handsome, with the dark features framing his face, but most of all, he’s very generous to me, which is what I wanted most in a guy.
“Um, no, he has to work late tonight and tomorrow. He has a big presentation on Thursday that he needs to work on,” I explain his absence for the dinner. He’s been working so hard lately, and I’m a little concerned for him and his health. He’s always exhausted and he doesn’t stay over much anymore. When he does, he snaps at me, but I know it’s because he’s so drained from working so much. We don’t live together, but he stays over in my house or I stay over in his. We’re gradually getting used to each other’s space before we make the big move. If we make the big move.
“Aw, shame! I’ll drop over during the weekend to say hi to you guys if he’s not hibernating after the meeting.” She giggles. I know that he will lock himself away in his room and not come out until it’s Monday morning to catch up on all the sleep he missed.
“Well, don’t be offended if he’s not awake and talking to you.” I unclip my seat belt and grab my belongings in the back of my car so I can start my day. My handbag and planner, I mentally list down what I need.
“When do I ever get offended by Ted?” she playfully chides me. I smirk back to the screen perched on the loudspeaker connector.
“All the time, Danielle. Anyway, tell Taylor and Chris I love them. I’ve arrived at work, so I’m going to head in and prepare for the day! I’ll talk to you tomorrow before the dinner?” I ask her before I push my door open, waiting for her response.
“Yep! I’ll call you tomorrow and talk then. Love you, Hun!” she says before the line goes dead. I push myself out of the car as the car bounces back into position. I place my possessions on the roof and twist the key to lock the car. I collect my bag and planner and stroll towards where I work. Twisting the key in the locked door to open it up, I allow myself in. I’m the first person to arrive. No surprises there. I switch the air conditioning on full blast to get rid of the stuffiness, switch on all the lights, and open the windows to let some fresh air inside.
I open my office door and get my table ready for my clients, lining it with tissue paper. I switch on my computer to see who I’m scheduled to see today.
Mr. Allen.
Mr. Bloomfield.
Mrs. Arden.
Two hour break.
Ms. Capri.
Ms. Dansel.
Not too bad today. One more client than usual. I like having more clients because it keeps me busy at work. I get paid more, which is what I need. This field is a lot more competitive than I originally thought. I need the work—I need the clients because I need the money.
This state is expensive to live in. So is New York, but this place is outrageous. I don’t have the jobs my brothers have, with their three-to-four-year contracts worth millions of dollars, plus endorsement deals. I have this nine-to-five job in a dilapidated rented space where lower- and middle-class people come in and out of on a daily basis, if we’re lucky.
So, I’m struggling to make ends meet. I have been for the last two years since moving out here and graduated from college. But I love working and living here. It’s very different from what I originally thought it would be. Some people are fake nice to you to get what they want. New Yorkers are a little more straight up with you. I’m not saying all people from these states are like that. The majority of them are. Nonetheless, I like them. I like it here. It’s my new home.
I can see the appeal for people to move out here. Nothing but beaches and sunshine all year round, only raining for like four days out of the year. It’s always busy. Cars are everywhere, and you can tell if people are rich; they’re not shy about it. Including my brother Chris who spoils his family rotten; myself included. I have caught him far too many times paying for my rent, and he’s bought me a few cars that I requested for him to return on account that I can pay for my own.
On my birthday, he took us all out to an exclusive restaurant and paid for everything. My parents even flew in to see me. So did Austin, who is still single and living in every bit of the moment. He finds it difficult to settle on one girl. Usually, it’s because he picks the wrong ones. He has never introduced us to one of them, so that’s how we know he’s not serious with them.
When I hear another person push through the main entrance, I know it’s Candice. She’s a wonderful mother of two gorgeous kids who come to our work every so often when they don’t have school. I’m usually the first to get in, then her, so we usually have breakfast together because she buys it on the way over here.
“Good morning!” She pokes her head in the door with a beaming smile. Her ebony skin is always smooth and shining, it always makes me jealous. And don’t get me started on her hair and makeup, it’s always fresh and pristine when she arrives. She’s the bubbly woman who all the clients adore thanks to her quick sense of humor and wittiness.
“Good morning! You’re in a little early?” I check the clock on my desktop, seeing it’s not even eight yet. We all start at eight-thirty, and she typically arrives about ten minutes after.
“I know, Marcus said he’d drop the kids to school, so I came in early for a little alone time with my girl!” She winks and I push myself up to join her as we walk side by side to the canteen.
“That’s nice of him.” I smile at her, nudging my shoulder into her slim build. You wouldn’t think she had two kids with that figure.
“It’s only because I gave him some last night.” She rolls her eyes, joking with me as she pushes through the door.
“Well, it’s all about compromise, right?” I tease her, making her laugh raucously. Not that I would know about relationships. This is only my second one.
Putting the coffee pot in for her, she sets the bag of food on the table and picks them out one by one. A fruit platter with some yogurt and nuts. We treat ourselves with greasy food on Fridays but try to be good every other day of the week.
The temptation is everywhere in this place. We have fast-food joints surrounding us and are open twenty-four-seven, so we always try to avoid leaving for lunch unless it’s absolutely necessary.
As we start to eat our breakfast, my mind drifts back to the text Haley had sent us yesterday about dinner tomorrow. No details were given, just where, when, and “Don’t be late.” I can’t help but think about what she’s up to? Why the urgency?
What are you up to Miss Jackson?
***
Nick
I swear if, that baby doesn’t shut the fuck up, I’m going to throw it out the window of the plane that’s travelling twenty thousand feet in the air. I won’t hesitate, I really won’t. I can’t sleep and I’m fucking exhausted. I stayed up late last night so I could get a sleep on the flight, but thanks to this squealer three rows down, I can’t have any of that.
I sigh to myself and pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration. Just a few more hours, Nick.
Give it a sleeping pill or something. Knock it out cold. I don’t care, I’ll do the honors if that kid’s parents can’t. It’s annoying, and I’m cranky right now. I have it in my mind to say something to the parents but I can’t find the energy to actually get up from my seat. That, and the fact that the woman beside me has been flirting with me since ever I’ve stepped into the flight. I don’t want another reason for her to start conversing with me again.
She’s so not my type too.
“Excuse me!” I signal the stewardess who is walking down the aisle far too many times to count. Her eyes light up when I talk to her, like she needed something to do to pass the time.
“Yes, Mr. Jackson?” she asks me.
“Can I get a triple scotch on the rocks with lime?” I request. “Make it two actually,” I order from her and she nods quickly, scurrying off to make order as I rest my head back to get comfy again.
I thought first class was supposed to be quiet? I think to myself as I gaze out of the window, looking at the passing clouds on the blue skies. The sun has come up fully. I watched the sunrise only moments ago as it fills the space with orange, pink, and yellow saturates. It was a beautiful sight.
“Nervous flyer?” the voice beside me asks, taking me out of my thoughts.
“No, I just need to sleep but it’s too loud up here.” I stare at her almond-shaped eyes. They’re dark brown and flirty.
“I have sleeping pills if you want one? They’re legit, I sometimes have trouble sleeping on flights too.” I shake my head, denying her request. That shit shouldn’t be in my system unless I’ve been instructed to take one by a medical professional. She’s not, so I can’t get pulled up on that or I’ll be banned from future games.
“No thank you, I’m fine. But if you don’t mind giving it to the baby down there, that would be great,” I joke dryly, pointing my head to the frequent screams coming from the child not too far away from us. I’m still serious when I say it though. She laughs loudly, placing her manicured hand in her chest to stop herself. I arch my eyebrow as I watch this play out. It wasn’t that funny.
“Oh, you’re too funny!” She slaps my arm. “Wow, and strong too. Do you work out?” she asks in awe, and I know she’s trying to strike up a conversation with me. I’m so not interested.
“Here you are, Mr. Jackson.” The stewardess saves me from answering that question I usually get from women. Yes, I do in fact work out, hence my build and profession. Now, the stewardess, I would fuck right here, right now. She’s more of my type. A little petite body with brown hair tied tightly into her bun.
“Thank you.” I smile at her and watch her turn red. She straightens herself up and fixes her uniform, continuing to walk down the aisle.
“So, I’m Jody.” The woman beside me holds out her hand trying to secure my attention once more. I’ve been raised to be polite to everyone I meet; today will be no exception.
“Nick,” I mumble back, taking the first glass of scotch and chugging it back. She watches me, wide eyes, as I drink from the plastic cup holding the amber liquid. I know I shouldn’t be drinking so much because I’m under contract with the Chargers now and they check each player nearly every day. Or so I’m told. That’s where I’m flying to now.
I graduated college with a first and got drafted with the Cowboys for two years before I got traded to the Seahawks. Now, I’m playing for the Chargers for a four-year contract. It’s just what I wanted. I’ve always wanted to play for them, but I needed Austin Steel to move first. The team wasn’t going to let him go without a fight, but he got a much better offer. Now he’s the highest paid quarterback in the NFL, with Jason Sterling as second, followed by me.
I got branded as the mysterious bad boy player in the NFL because of my attitude. A title that I ignore. After I had my heart broken, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I fell into a dark and lonely place, avoiding my friends and family for a solid year. I hated myself and what I did. I never wanted to hurt her or make that decision, but I had to because even though I didn’t want to break up, I knew in my mind that they were right.
I was distracted, and I focused on her instead of my career. It was my own fault. I should have balanced both, but I’ve never had a girlfriend before so I didn’t know how to do it. I can’t even say her name anymore. She haunts me so much that I can’t bring myself to say it. It’s too sweet. The little things always remind me of her. Usually, a smell that I remember when I was with her or the shampoo she used to use.
I always think of her.
I even stalk her on social media.
After college, I used to do it often, then it died down after a while, but when TJ told me she got a boyfriend it picked back up. I stalked him too. Pretty boy Ted Craddock, who is a marketing director at an LA TV agency. He looks like a fucking idiot if you ask me. He dresses like his mom picked his clothes out for him too.
Fucknut.
When I chug back the first drink, I hiss at the burn trickling down my throat. I needed that, especially with the baby crying and the thoughts of her occupying my mind.
I tried to keep my distance, but I couldn’t. It made me miserable seeing her happy with him. I knew I lost her. I knew I couldn’t have her anymore. I knew he was probably a better choice for her. I knew he didn’t know who she was and that’s what she wanted, but I can’t let her go. I can’t set her free.
I just don’t have it in me.
I raise my hand to order another two from the same woman, who smiles as she makes her way back to the cabin where she stores the drinks.
“Rough morning?” The woman beside me strikes up another conversation again.
“You could say that,” I say as I sip on the next drink I was handed while waiting for my other two. She giggles like I said something hilarious. I didn’t—again.
She leans over my armrest and whispers in my ear seductively, “Why don’t you tell me about it?” I almost choke on my drink. She’s offering to listen to me complain about something she already knows about. When she unbuckles her seatbelt and keeps her lips pressed against my ear, I literally don’t know what to do. “Meet me in the bathroom in two minutes. Knock three times and bring protection, handsome,” she says seductively.
I chug back the rest of the contents, letting it slowly affect me. Maybe this little rendezvous will help me sleep?
I watch her sway her curvy hips down to the restroom as I see the stewardess struts back with my drinks in both hands. I gladly take them from her and chug them back down my throat, needing it so I can do what I’m about to do with her. After two minutes, I walk down the narrow aisle and make sure nobody is around. I knock three times and get pulled in by my shirt. Immediately shutting the door behind me, her lips latch onto mine.
Her lips taste strange, but I push it aside and deal with it. “I didn’t think you were going to come,” she says as she strips my belt away from my pants and lets it drop to the floor. The mile-high club isn’t as glamorous as I thought it would be. There’s no fucking room in here at all.
I sway a little when I feel the alcohol strike me hard. “Neither did I,” I tell her, continuing to kiss her. She unbuttons my pants and unzips me so my jeans are free. Pushing the material down my thick legs, she pushes up my shirt resting just under my ribcage to see my well-earned six-pack that’s defined beyond belief.
“Damn, those are some good abs.” She bends down to lick and kiss them as I grip her hair hard in my hands.
“Go lower,” I command her, and she follows. I grunt when she takes my whole shaft into that hot, wet mouth of hers. After a few minutes of nearly making me cum, I yank her back up to me roughly. I lift her up onto the sink area where she can rest her ass on as I spread her legs, but she does that for me anyway.
So, she’s that kind of girl?
“Do you squirt?” I ask her. She smiles on my lips and kisses me feverishly. This woman isn’t holding back one bit.
“Are you requesting?” She smirks and trails her hands up my tight abs. She’s feeling every inch of my skin, but I feel nothing. Not a burn. Not even a spark. I feel absolutely nothing; as always.
“Not particularly,” I say nonchalantly as she’s sucking on my throat as she toys with me in her hand, pulling and pushing to get a rhythm.
“Then no. I don’t squirt.” She pulls back and stares at me like she can do it on command. I have never met a girl who can squirt on command. She asks, “You got a condom or are we pulling out today?” She smiles, still pumping me.
I grip her hand and bend down to get my wallet to retrieve my “in case of emergency” condom in the hidden pocket and show it to her. Her eyes say one thing while her face says another. I know that look, she wanted me to pull out but is hiding her disappointment.
“I don’t do the pull-out method,” I admit to her as I rip the foil open and extract the condom into my hand. Rolling it up my stiff length to get myself ready, I double check to see if there are no holes in it, just in case.
“Pity.” She chuckles as she wraps her legs around my waist and slams me into her. Her panties are already off. Or was she even wearing any? I think to myself.
“I don’t do that shit. This will be a quick fuck, nothing more. Are you sure you’re okay with that?” I ask her and watch her nod as she licks her stained lips that I know is all over my lips. As soon as she gives me the go-ahead, I position myself at her entrance and slam into her, beating that dripping wet pussy of hers.
“Oh fuck!” she whispers into my ear as I speed up my harsh thrusts. I have no mercy with her or her body. I don’t see this as anything more than sex. I don’t ever want to see it as anything more. I know I won’t see her ever again too. I hope I won’t, anyway.
I place my hand against the mirror behind her as I beat into her. I steady myself as I grunt, feeling the bliss building and my balls tightening.
“Oh shit, yes!” she moans again, and I lift my face away from her. I don’t want to hear her. “Right there! Oh God, yes! I’m cumming. I’m cumming!” She pants just as I can feel her walls convulse around me but I’m the one who cums first. I put my own needs before her as I come into the rubber wrapped tightly around me, not giving two shits if she comes. “Oh, don’t stop!” She gasps but her hand goes down to touch herself. She moves it in circles as she strokes her clit while I still pump into her, feeling the stretch of my orgasm.
Just a little more.
“Oh, fuck yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!” She leans back against the mirror as she comes down off her high with my hand over her mouth to muffle her cries of bliss. I’m still cumming inside the condom, pulse after pulse. Her walls have me trapped while she comes back to reality.
When I decide to pull myself together, I know I’ve done my deed. I’ve officially joined the mile-high club.
I slide out of her and check the condom again. Nothing has burst, so we’re all good. I pull up my boxers and pants, retrieve my belt that fell on the floor, retie it around my narrow waist, and discard the condom wrapped in tissue paper in the nearby trash. Once she restores herself, I stumble out of the bathroom quickly and try not to draw attention to myself, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. I return to my seat without any stares. Nobody notices me because they’re either asleep or listening to something.
At least some people can sleep to the sound of that godforsaken devil squeals.
I sigh in gratification that I got today’s fix. Resting back into a comfortable position, I recline my seat as I see her stomping down from the doors that she pushed open with aggression.
She drops herself down on the seat next to me. I wonder what the hell just happened since I left? I let her know that it was a quick fuck beforehand, right? She agreed to it, so why is she so pissed at me?
We both stay silent for the next few minutes. I slowly stop caring as to why she’s so annoyed right now. Instead, I return to stare back out the window like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world. Until she finally decides to speak up.
“It’s Jody, asshole,” she mutters, making me whip my head back around to her.
“I’m sorry?” I inquire.
“You should be!” she hisses at me and I arch my eyebrow with the tone she’s now giving me.
“Look, I told you it was just sex—”
“I know it was, but it would have been nice if you got my name correct.” Biting my cheek, I retrieve my body away from her as she leans closer to me.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about?” I’m dumbfounded by what she’s telling me. What is she talking about?
“What I’m talking about is that you called me ‘Carter.’ ” I freeze, and I can feel my entire body drain my blood, ice shattering my heated bliss with her only moments ago. I called her . . . her.
Fuck, I did it again.
“It’s Jody, not Carter,” she chastises once more and twists her body away from me in a huff.
Even after all these years, she still has an effect on me. Even when I’m with another woman, my mind and body still wants her. It longs for the one and only woman that I ever fell for.
I don’t even apologise to . . . Jody for being an ass. That was an ass move on my part. I’m just so staggered that it keeps happening to me. It only happens when I’ve drank more than I should because it just floods out of me. It’s the like gates have opened and I want her, and I let myself know that. I miss her. I really do. I’ve stayed single all of these years because I haven’t met someone that’s on par with her.
The truth is I want her back in my life. I’ve compared every girl I’ve ever been with to her, and none of them come close. I don’t think anyone ever will either.
I don’t think I’d ever feel the same way I felt when I was with her. I know I won’t. Nothing will compare to her.
As we finally descend to ground level after a tiring flight of screaming, alcohol, and awkwardness, I’m finally ready to leave this flight. However, the stewardess has other plans for me.
With nobody on the flight, not even the pilot, it’s just us alone. At first, it was just casual flirting, to which I got a glare from Jody as she left. Now, I’ve got another mouth wrapped around my dick while my pants are currently around my ankles. Sitting in the first row of first class on an empty plane means I can moan as loud as I want.
What is with these LA chicks? They’re hornier than I am, and that says a lot.
She’s sucking me off with her breasts spilling out of her top as she plays with herself, but I’m too caught up in the feeling to even care about her. I had to bite back my moans just in case I let her name slip again.
With a fist full of her hair, I push her head down further to make her take all of me.
“Take it all,” I whisper as she grunts on my dick, taking me deep in the back of her throat and clamping down on me. I can feel myself losing control because she’s not letting up. It’s tight and steady; just how I like it, but there’s no feeling, like what happened earlier.
Fuck.
As I fill her mouth up with myself, she surprises me by swallowing me. Panting harsh breaths, I lose restraint once again.
Block her out. Don’t say her name again. Don’t do it.
When I open my eyes, I see her smiling up at me. She wipes her hand across her lips and sits back, biting on her lower lip.
“Thanks,” I say and fix myself again. I need to leave and grab my bags. I need to catch my ride to my sister’s house that’s she’s sharing with my best friend. They’ll kill me if I’m late; Haley in particular.
“Um, no problem?” She giggles as she adjusts her uniform again. As I reach up in the overhead locker to pull down the bags, she hovers beside me. This is the worst part when you hook up with someone. The escape. The awkwardness of leaving. I turn to face her to give her my usual speech but she cuts me off. “Here’s my number, if you want another round?” She smiles and leaves me to it.
That was easy.
That’s was very easy.
Maybe too easy.
I snap myself out of it and gather my things, racing off the plane with another quick goodbye from her. I run through baggage claim, collecting five of my bags from the flight. I throw them onto a trolley and race through arrivals, hoping to see someone with my name. Instead, I’m greeted with a ton of flashes in my face as I turn the corner, making it harder to see.
“Shit,” I curse and shield my eyes from the prying paparazzi. I blink so I can adjust to the unexpected brightness. I can hear nothing but my name and strangers bombarding me with questions. I swiftly look around to see if I can find the guy I hired to collect me from the airport. When I see someone waving with a sign that has my name on cardboard, I make my way over to him.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Jackson,” he greets me and places the sign under his arm, grabbing my trolley from my hold and pushing it out the sliding doors. Security has to help us maneuver out of the airport. This is what it’s always like for me. Chaos, and lots of it.
“Afternoon,” I mumble back and keep my head down and away from the cameras and people screaming at me. Girls usually scream to me and beg me for autographs and pictures.
“The car is this way. Follow me, sir.” He directs me with the help of the four airport security guards encircling us as we walk out and get greeted by the hot air outside of LAX airport. More people try to claw through the crowd to get to me as I ignore them and push my way towards the large Escalade. I slide into the chilled seats after helping with the bags and thank the four men for their services. I took some photos with them hanging out the car doorway. I shut myself off to the world when I gladly close the door.
As we make our way towards Brentwood, I bathe in the silence surrounding me, appreciating that the driver doesn’t want to talk to me. I could use the deafening silence. The noiseless journey sends me to sleep because I didn’t get much on the plane. Gee, I wonder why?
As I drifted off into a small nap, I feel a hand greet my cheek too many times to count. A palm slaps my face over and over again.
I wake up to my best friend smirking down at me as he peers through the open door beside me.
“Morning, pumpkin,” he teases me while pinching my cheek. Even though he called me pumpkin, I still miss his idiotic ways. I swat his hand away and smile at him. I finally get to see my best friend after a few months along with my sister. I have this feeling in my stomach that I suddenly feel like I’m home again.
My new home.
