Page 37 of Wicked Player
Chapter Thirteen
Much to my dismay, my brain is full of Colton Rossi all weekend. I think about him when I’m doing the dishes (the old school way because I don’t have a dishwasher). I see his beautiful face as we head to the laundry mat (huge bag of dirty clothes in tow and books for both Christian and I). Memories of our time together plays on a loop as I play checkers with Christian, as we watchCarsfor the millionth time, as we go for a kayak on the bay, and as we sit by the fire outside.
At night in bed, I toss and turn, my mind full of him. I indulge in fantasies, scenarios my mind hasn’t explored in ages. When I close my eyes, he’s there against me, his smooth body warm and soft, his long fingers exploring my curves, his hot tongue swirling around my breasts. His gorgeous lips on mine, his hot breath travels along my neck, his soft locks caught in my hands. I already know what he feels like despite the fact that we’ve never really touched. I get lost in his sweet scent, and I imagine what he tastes like.
In other words, I think of him. Every. Second. Of. Each. Day. Despite my best intentions, I also desperately await a message from him. Yet when I check my phone, there is nothing. Absolutely nothing. And it hurts. I kind of wish I’d never met him. This is too painful.
Yet despite my ill-advised current obsession, I’m in a great mood because it’s Monday night, and that mean’s girls' night. I already have tiki chicken pizza in the oven, Cassie’s favorite, and Margaritas on the go. Tonight, I’m having Miriam over too. She comes for girls’ night once in a while, and both Cassie and I love her. Unlike us, she’s married and a bit older, but we all get along great.
Cassie squeals as soon as I pull the sliding door open to welcome her in. She can be loud sometimes, but I’ve gotten used to it over the years.
“So nice to see ya,” she cheers, all the while wrapping me in a big bear hug. It’s as if we haven’t seen each other in months, but in fact, I saw her just last week. But that’s Cassie for you… always excited and full of life.
“I’m making your favorite pizza,” I tell her as she pulls of her stylish booties and makes herself comfortable at my kitchen table, smack in the middle of my little cabin.
“Margarita me,” she cheers, ready to fill her body with alcohol and numb her brain. I’m eager to follow suit because I really need to stop thinking about Colton Rossi.
“Coming right up,” I say. “You’re crashing on my sofa again?”
“Of course,” she tells me. “I’ve got the day off tomorrow. I’m taking a mental health day.”
“Well, I don’t, so I can’t party too hard.”
Just then, Miriam’s pretty face appears at the window. She waves cheerfully, and I run to the door and let her in. “What’s up, Miriam? So nice to see you.”
We quickly hug, and she peels off her rain boots as we all say our hellos. I get working on a margarita for her as well since she’s not driving. She lives just two cabins down, and I see she’s brought her flashlight, ready for the dark walk back home.
“So what are we watching again?” she asks. “I forget.”
“Spanglish,” I tell her. “With Adam Sandler… it’s an older movie, but really good.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen it.”
Cassie downs her margarita, and is already ready for a second one.
“I haven’t either, but I love anything with Adam Sandler,” Cassie chimes in.
Miriam is playing with her dark curls again, a habit of hers. She’s very pretty, a curly haired snow white, a young Andy McDowell. Having stick straight hair, I envy her natural curls. “His movies are a bit goofy, but David and I love them too,” she tells us.
David is her husband. He’s a manager on the floor at the Casino where Cassie works. Cassie knows him since she works there.
The oven beeps. The pizza is ready.
“But no movie yet,” Cassie says. “I’ve got too much to talk about first.”
My ears perk up as I put on some oven mitts, and retrieve the pizza from the oven.
“Guess who’s going to the next Colton Rossi party?” she exclaims. “Moi!”
My stomach drops, and I stare down at the pizza for a long beat. I’ve suddenly lost my appetite. I adjust my expression carefully before I turn to face her.
“Wow, that sounds like fun,” Miriam says and I’m not sure if she’s judging her or not. Miriam doesn’t strike me as the judging type, but let’s face it, we all look down on the women who attend those parties. Which is the reason I never told Miriam or anyone else that I attended one.
“I guess you aced the interview,” I chime in. “I knew you would.” Honestly, I don’t know why I’m so shocked. I knew she would make it. She’s gorgeous and fun. How could she not?
“I got the email today,” she tells us. “The party is in two weeks, not next Saturday, but the one after that. You should go again, Clara. We could hang. It would be so much fun!”
“Again?” Miriam asks. “You’ve been to one of the Rossi parties?” she asks, and now I know for sure she’s judging. She seems completely surprised.
