Page 5 of Curvy Girl Summer

“Look at me. They always come back.”

Not this time.

With a tight smile, I nodded again. “Goodbye, Matthew.”

My eyes dropped back down to his dick before I left his place and closed the door between us. If that dick wasn’t going to keep me involved with him, nothing he could’ve said or done would’ve worked.

I jogged down the steps until I got to the first-floor landing. It was then that I remembered I’d left my panties. Looking up, I thought about it for a moment and then shook my head.

I’ll just buy some new ones.

It wasn’t worth the trouble.

As soon as I got in the car, I called the best friend that I was sure had experienced something similar before.

“Hey.” Nina Ford answered the call on the first ring. “Please tell me you got your itch scratched.”

“I did.”

She gasped. “I can’t believe you actually did it! How was it?”

“It was…” The flashback caused a dull ache between my thighs. “It was just as good as I remembered.”

“So why do you sound like that?” she wondered.

“Because you were right. I probably just should’ve found someone new.”

“What did Matthew do? He was still pressed, wasn’t he?”

“Yes.” I hit the steering wheel. “You called it. I just didn’t want to try my luck with someone new. But instead of being able to revel in my orgasm, he really wanted to talk about why I wasn’t trying to date him anymore.”

“That man has been pining away for you for months. He needs to let it gooooooo.”

I snickered at the way she said it and then sighed. “It’s my fault. I should’ve never responded to his message.”

“Well, hehasbeen sending you a message every month for the last seven months. So, yeah… I think it was a little delusional to believe that man was just going to be cool with a one-night-only hookup.”

“You’re right,” I admitted as I drove down the dark street. “You are absolutely right. I think I just went with something familiar because I’m ready to find my person. I’m not rushing it, but I can’t continue on this drought.”

“It’s time for me to give you some real talk, my friend. It’s going to be a long summer if you continue the way you’re going,” she warned. “You can’t keep depriving yourself and thinking there will be no consequences. So, this is the perfect time for you to see what’s out there. Hit these streets up with me.”

“Nina, you know I’m just not the one-night-stand type.”

“Well, I am. And let me tell you, I haven’t been stressed about a thing! You, on the other hand, just spent months soul-searching and figuring out what you want—only to hook up with a dude working on his debut rap album.”

“At forty!” I hollered. “Sir, it’s too late.”

“If anything, he needs to see if they’ll give him studio time for a jazz album. Because nobody trying to shake ass to joint-pain jams and Roth IRA rhymes.”

I laughed so hard I almost choked.

“These are your consequences for waiting too long,” she continued as I cackled.

2

In the quiet moments before the house filled with people, I stared at the mocha-skinned beauty with the big almond-shaped eyes, full, plump lips, and perfectly placed, silk-pressed hair cascading to the middle of her back. She was shaped like a Coke bottle, and the angelic white dress that adorned her body looked flawless. Standing on our uncle’s yacht, she looked happy, carefree.

And alive.

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