Page 17 of Hung Up
I’m still questioning whether not giving Denton my phone number was the right decision. Am I crazy to think we had a genuine connection…or was it all for show?
It’s probably all in my head. I mean hell, he’s a musician who could have any woman he wants. I need to get a grip.
My stomach rumbles. Damn, I haven’t eaten much all day. I crack open the fridge to find not much of anything. I’ll have to run into town tomorrow for groceries and snacks for the guesthouse. While I’m there I’ll stock my fridge for times like this. For now, I settle for some lunch meat that is just barely stillgood and a handful of chips. Dash is begging at my feet, eyes glued to the lunch meat.
“You got food in your bowl,” I grumble, but his begging is relentless. I give in and break off half a slice of turkey. “That’s all you get buddy.”
I turn my attention to the couch where I can just barely make out a faint buzzing noise.
Buzz, buzz, buzz.
There it is again. My phone must have fallen out of my pocket and escaped into the couch cushion. I pad over to the couch and tilt my head listening for the buzzing noise. I dig behind the cushion. “Got ya!” I say and bring the screen to my face. My phone is still going off and I have three missed calls and two text messages from Charli. My brain feels fried, and I don’t have the energy to get into everything tonight, so I send her a text.
Sorrel:
I’m home and will call in the morning.
Charli:
What the hell??? Call me now! I can’t wait another minute. I need the TEA ASAP.
She’s definitely going to be annoyed when I don’t respond tonight, but she’ll get over it once I give her all the juicy details.
—
I wake up groggy, already dreading the busy day ahead. After rolling out of bed, I flip on the fancy espresso machine my mom got me for Christmas last year. Caffeine is an absolute necessity. One honey latte coming up. The double shot of espresso drizzlesinto local honey I bought at a farmers market in town a few weeks ago. I grab my favorite dachshund mug from inside the cabinet, pouring in the espresso and then milk. Taking a sip, I savor the sweet honey mixed with the bold espresso and whole milk. It’s like summer in a cup.
I decide on my usual jeans and a T-shirt and grab my sherpa pullover from the chair in the corner where my laundry pile lives. Lucy was adamant I let her help me with it, but I told her not to bother. It’s something I’ll have to tackle one of these days, but there’s a system to my madness.
I pull the sweatshirt over my head, I simultaneously knock over the stack of books next to the laundry. I yelp, stubbing my toe on a romance novel. I’ve been meaning to read that one. I pad over to the couch, where I slipped my boots off last night. I hop up and down, slipping on one boot, then the other. I head out the door with a slam.
“Shit, Dash.” I turn back around and open the door. My sidekick comes darting out, ready to go run errands.
My Dodge Cummins pickup fires up, and I drive into town, about a forty-five minute drive to the nearest grocery store. On the radio, Denton Reed’s new song “Wild” comes on. It’s about a young, wild guy who never grew up, while his girlfriend did. The guy is still deep in the bar scene, and the song goes on about how he should have given her a ring and a house full of kids. I think that song tells me everything I need to know.
Just as I’m pulling into the Shop and Stop parking lot, Charli’s name lights up on my dashboard screen. Fuck, I forgot to call her back this morning. I press the green phone button to answer.
“Sorrel Saxxon, this is your best friend in the whole world, making sure you’re still alive.” Charli’s voice crackles through the speaker.
“Yes, I’m still alive, no need to worry! I was just exhausted when I got back to the ranch. We have a decent-sized group coming to stay this week, so I’m in town for supplies.”
“Oh, well, okay, I guess that’s a reasonable excuse for not filling me in on how the night went, but next time you don’t let me know you made it home safe, I’m driving my ass up there just to give yours a beatin’.”
I laugh. “Yes, ma’am, I won’t let it happen again,” I say, trying for a stern tone.
“I’m holding you to that, Sorrel. Anyway, give me all the details.”
I go over everything that happened, filling her in on Huck punching Denton and then Len kicking Huck out. She’s eating it up. I can hear her wicked grin through the phone. When I tell her I refused to give him my phone number, she about blows a gasket.
“What the fuck, you didn’t give him your number? What on earth is wrong with you, Sorrel?”
“Nothing, I’m just not interested.”
“Yeah right, I know you and he is right up your alley!” Charli cries out.
She isn’t wrong and that’s the problem. Obviously, my choice in men is questionable. I’m trying to make better choices.
“I’m just not ready Charli, I need to work through my past. I still haven’t compartmentalized it all. Anyhow, I don't think dating a musician is any smarter than dating a cowboy. I learned my lesson.”
