Accent Hussy (It Had 2 B U) (25 page)

Two months has rolled by since the dickweed incident. No matter how hard I try, I can’t get Hopscotch to open up to me. Things are getting easier with all of the other girls, especially NJ. The more I allow her to help me wrangle in the girls, the nicer she is. I think she realizes that I was never here to take the girls away from her, just to help out. To her, they’re her family. They might not be blood related, but every single girl latches on to the other and relies on them to work through the trenches, as Caleb so diligently called them.

Caleb has decided to try the silent treatment with me. I think he’s purposely going out of his way to make me jealous, chatting up every girl in this damn place, especially Kristene, who I have nicknamed TGB, or The Ginger Bitch.

When I walk in today, they’re flirting at the front counter. He knows exactly what time I get there, and I notice his eyes following me as he chats up TGB.

“So, I was wondering, Kristene. I have this big fight coming up. I was hoping to invite all the staff to come with me. During that time, I have a before match dinner and need a date. Are you interested?”

Is she interested? That bitch opens her legs like a goddamn clam every time he gets near her. I swear; it’s like she needs to feed the bushy beast between her legs oxygen just so it can survive her matted jungle puss.

The worst part about all of this, is that she has no idea he’s only egging her on to get to me, and it’s actually working. That stupid jealous green-eyed monster is raging inside me. I’m ten seconds away from going full Hulk on this chick and claiming Caleb like a god damn rawhide bone.
I bobbed his bone. It’s mine, damn it!

Caleb must see his plan is working because he leans in and whispers into Kristene’s ear. She giggles making me want to smack her and punch him. I can’t watch this train wreck anymore, so I stomp off, desperate to find any place but the lobby to wait for my girls. I end up at the playground, kicking myself around on the merry-go-round, while my thoughts play suicide with my brain.

If you asked me four months ago what I wanted in a man I could name off five traits immediately: accent, easy-going, makes me laugh, selfless, handsome. Four out of those five traits fit Caleb perfectly, but the more I hang out with Caleb, the more he gets under my skin. He’s like an infection, every inch of me is consumed with him.

Just as I expected, a few minutes later the sex god himself graces me with his presence.

“Out here stewing in your jealousy?”

“I’m not stewing in anything. I’m spinning around.” The sun practically blinds me, but I manage to glare at his silhouette anyway.

“No, this is spinning.” Caleb grabs the bars on the merry-go-round and starts running. I lift my legs up and grab onto the bar, pulling myself towards the middle. I’m trying not to laugh, but I haven’t done something like this since I was wearing overalls and pigtails. After a few seconds, I can’t contain myself any longer. I laugh loudly, a happy vibrant laugh, as Caleb jumps up next to me and we spin like fools.

As we rotate, I can see him looking at me. He smiles watching me as I enjoy the ride.

“You’re a vision of beauty like this. Your smile is so much better than your normal frown.” He reaches up, still holding the bar with his other arm and caresses my face as we turn. We’re moving too fast to stop him, and I really don’t want him to stop.

“How can you hit on me when you just asked TGB to go out with you?”

The merry-go-round slows, but both of us are still fixated on each other.

“TGB?” he asks.

“Kristene.”

“What’s TGB stand for?” He’s smirking. He just wants reassurance that I get jealous over him. Well, I’m not going to oblige. I shrug my shoulders, digging my heels into the sand so the spinning will stop.

“It doesn’t matter. I need to go find my girls.” When I get up, I wobble, the world rotating around me. It makes me weak in my knees and I fall backward, only to be cuddled by his awaiting arms.

“I got you,” he whispers, gripping my shoulders and pulling me into his chest. “I will always catch you when you fall.”

The intensity of his words frighten me. I’m falling for him again. I’m always falling for him. In Vegas, at the gym opening, now here. I’m, falling into his arms like it’s normal. But it’s not normal. Nothing about Caleb should be normal.

I wiggle out of his grasp, only to find myself face to face with him. I push against his chest, my hands meeting with the cut contours of his muscles. This gorgeous body should never be covered with shirts. I don’t even realize I’m closing my eyes until I feel his lips on mine.

Caleb knows when I’m weak. He knows exactly what to do to turn me into a broken glass: fragile, jagged, and completely unpredictable.

“What’s TGB?” he asks again.

This time, the Caleb haze is not so easy to break. I’m lost in his lips, consumed by his eyes, and desperate for more. Maybe it’s time to let him in . . .

“You’re jealous of her, aren’t you? You’re jealous of any woman I do this to that isn’t you.”

And just like that, the spell is broken. Why does he have to be such an arrogant and cocky son of a bitch!

I pull away from him. He’d be in three pieces right now if my glare could actually slice through him. I may not have the best luck with the guys I actually want a relationship with, but at least they aren’t self-absorbed assholes who like to tease and torture me.

“Fuck you.”

“With pleasure,” he grins, picking me up and carrying me towards his office. “I have a chalkboard with my name on it that’s waiting for a matching ass print.” He hasn’t erased my message yet? As if he notices the wheels spinning in my head he laughs. “When a girl writes me a love note, I tend to keep it.”

“I’m not in love with you, Caleb.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Everly.” As we pass the other employees, they look up at us in confusion, especially Kristene who just got asked out on a date.

He’s about to pull open his door and throw me inside when her shrill voice calls out after him. “Mr. C., your two o’clock is here.” Caleb stops dead in his tracks and swears unintelligibly against my shoulder. He drops me, a defeated look on his face. I break away from him, embarrassed by all the odd looks I’m receiving.

“Mr. Wilson, how nice to see you again,” Caleb says, his line of focus directed to the man sitting on one of the chairs in the lobby.

An older gentleman with a perfectly trimmed brown mustache gets up from the chair and waddles over to us. He’s at least three of me in size and smells like peppermint.

“I see you’re having fun,” the man eyes me and smiles. “Good taste, your father would be proud.”

My whole body flushes. This is so embarrassing.

“Everly, this is a family friend, Mr. Wilson. He’s also my accountant. As much as I would like to continue everything we started, he and I do have some business to take care of.”

“I understand, nice to meet you Mr. Wilson.” I don’t wait for him to speak. Instead I turn and walk away, staring at the ground as I go. I can’t make eye contact with anyone, definitely not Kristene, whose glare I can feel all the way across the room.

Why did I let myself get wrapped up in the moment again? No matter how hard I try, scenarios such as this one keep happening. I’m not in love with Caleb, I can’t be. I know I’m shallow for wanting more—for wanting someone who talks a certain way, but I can’t help myself. Men with accents just do it for me. That’s why I don’t understand how Caleb slipped through the cracks, managing to invade my dreams, and I don’t understand why no matter how hard I try, I just can’t stop thinking about him.

I hate Caleb Conaway. I hate Caleb Conaway. I hate Caleb Conaway.

That simple mantra is the only thing keeping me sane. Maybe I need to go write it a hundred times on his chalkboard just to remind myself.

His sultry blue eyes flash into my head. I can’t shake the way they twinkled when I opened mine and he was kissing me. That smirk of his was there too. All I can think about is seeing that smirk every time he came up for air while orally pleasuring me. My thighs are soaked and all I’m doing is thinking about it.

I hate Caleb Conaway.

Maybe I need to write it two-hundred times—just in case.

A month has passed since the merry-go-round incident. I’ve spent the entire time dodging Caleb as much as I can. I avoid all his hot spots. The boxing ring, his office, the cafeteria, the merry-go-round, every place I could possibly bump into him is strategically avoided. One time, he caught me and tried to get me to talk to him. For the millionth time, I told him I wasn’t interested. It doesn’t matter what chemistry we have in the bedroom, none of that matters to me. He’s just not right for me, period.

He called me a liar; I told him to grow a dick. Now I refuse to talk to him. He’s resorted to making me jealous again. It’s gotten to the point that he purposely tries to make me angry.

Today is no different. There’s a certain hallway that has become my sanctuary. It’s a sure fire way to avoid Caleb, but today it’s occupied. I round the corner and there’s Caleb. He has Kristene pressed against the wall, his lips millimeters away from her face. He must know I’m avoiding him, because that’s the only reason for him popping up in my hallway of sanctuary with the front desk troll. When he sees me, he kisses her: lips to lips, her hand against his chest, literally no space between them. It shouldn’t matter. There’s no reason for me to be upset; yet, when I see them together, it’s like instant water works. With tears in my eyes, my chest floods with jealousy, and I have to battle the desperate need for an ice pick. I want to plunge it into her fake plastic tits and watch them shrink like busted water balloons. Seriously, one poke and those things would deflate like god-damn whoopee cushions.

I push past them, fighting the war of emotions raging inside of me. I need a distraction, something to keep my mind off the asshole who I can’t stop thinking about. Once in the gym, I pull out my phone, texting the group chat I put together with Maggie and Breezy on Lookbook.

Everly: Ho signal is up. Girl’s night?

Maggie:
Uh oh, are you having manssues?

Everly: You could say that.

Maggie:
YUUUUUS Fat bitch to the rescue then. My utility belt is armed with tequila, and ice cream. *To the fat mobile! *

Everly: You’re not fat!

Maggie:
Can you shake your belly and sing the Jell-O jingle before it stops moving? I can. I’m pretty sure they wrote that song for me. Fuck, I want some Jell-O now. *Texts CG*

Breezy: I’m in. I need a girl’s night. Maggie if u call urself fat 1 more time, I’m smacking u.

Everly: Uh oh, she’s talking in chat speak.

Maggie:
*Turns around and gets ready* Do your worst sexy bitch!

Everly: See I knew sending out the Ho signal would work. Are you sure Max will let you out, Breezy? That means he’s stuck with diaper duty.

Breezy: He’ll manage. Braxy has sucked the life out of my boobs. I need a break; my girls have produced so much milk I feel like a cow. *smacks Maggie’s ass*

Maggie:
I love it when you talk dirty, Breezy, and just think of how much milk you could produce with a third nipple? You could bottle your boobie juice and give it to starving infants everywhere. *researches people with third nipples*

Everly: Maggie I love you.

Maggie:
Bahahaha holy crap did you know a mole might actually be a third nipple. This is an actual thing. People pierce them, too. Man now I want a third nipple. *lifts up shirt* Never mind, my tits are perfect just the way they are.

Breezy: 012haboapab 2

Maggie:
*Hi Braxy!*

Breezy: Sorry, Braxy got my phone. What time and where?

Everly: The usual. Seven okay?

Maggie:
Sure, that gives me some time to deep throat some chocolate. *Gag, cough*

Everly: *face palm*

Breezy
:


Maggie:
I over shared again didn’t I?

Breezy: Maggie we need to install an out of line emoji for u.

Everly: Yes! Or something that calls time out every time you TMI us. *searches Facebook emoji’s* Oh yeah like this one!

Everly
:

Breezy: bahaha perfect

Breezy: I call time out
on bobbing ur chocolate.

Maggie:
That’s not fair. You know how much I need my chocolate fix.

Everly: We need to check her into chocoholics anonymous, Breezy.

Maggie:
I’m not talking about Mr. Goodbars girls. I’m talking about Chocolate dick.

Breezy:

Everly:

Maggie:
*goes to sit in the corner* I’m calling in reinforcements. You bitches are mean!

Emma Gibson joins the chat group

Maggie:
Emma, please tell these bitches the importance of deep throating chocolate.

Emma:
Are you over sharing again?

Everly: Yes!

Breezy:

Maggie:
Fine, I’ll just keep my chocolate dick to myself. Emma the Ho signal has been flashed. Bring your blonde tits to the bar tonight.

Emma:
Okay, Tony is driving me nuts. I need a good drink.

Everly: Just tell him to grow a dick, that’s what I do.

Emma:
. . . his dick is NOT the problem.

Maggie:
Welcome to the world of being in a relationship Emma. Space is not an option. Okay, I’ll see you girls at seven. I need to impale my vagina with some penis.

Breezy: Only you could make sex sound like a gladiator ring.

Maggie:
The only good sex is the kind where you’re not sure if you’re going to survive it. On that note! Carpe Dicky Girls! Seize the dick! Especially if it’s wrapped in chocolate! Byyyye!

Breez
y

Everly
:

Emma: