Page 22 of Hung Up
Thirty-five minutes and some traffic later, my bare feet are curled in the sand as I lay out my beach towel. I unbutton my thin, white long-sleeved cover and let it fall from my shoulders, exposing my sage green bikini, before sitting down. Reaching into my tote, I grab my sunscreen and lather up my arms, legs, and chest before I reach for my book. However, I’m not able to get comfortable and enjoy it.
“Are you Faith? Faith Thompson?” I glance over the top of my sunglasses to get a better look at who has interrupted what was supposed to be a quiet and relaxing day alone on the beach. He’s got dark blond hair that’s long on top and short on the sides, a jawline so sharp that it should be criminal, gorgeous golden skin with piercing blue eyes, freckles covering his nose and cheeks, and a short beard that has been recently shaved.
Well, hello, handsome.Too bad I’ve sworn off blonds.
“That’s me,” I say, setting my book down beside me on the towel. “And you are?”
“I’m Dean Fontaine,” he tells me as he removes the towel over his shoulder and lays it beside me. “I’m the veterinarian.”
My brows furrow as he drops down onto his towel, and I notice he also came equipped with a book. “The veterinarian?”
“Yes, ma’am. The PBR association hired me to help take care of the bulls if anything went sideways.” He slips off his tank top, exposing a perfectly toned stomach and drawing attention to his biceps.Lord, have mercy.“We’re both new to this, so figured I’d finally introduce myself so you knew you weren’t the only newbie. I might’ve overheard you had a beach day planned.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Dean.” I sit up a little straighter, tipping my head down so he can see my eyes. “And please, don’t ever call me ma’am again.”
He chuckles. “I wouldn’t consider it. Mind if I sit here with you? I only have ten chapters left in my book and wanted to get some fresh air.”
“Reading in silence on the beach?” Dean gives me a small smile, which I return. “A man after my own heart.”
He chuckles before flipping open his book, laying down as he uses the novel to block the sun from his eyes. I pick my own book back up and get comfy, using the spare towel I brought as a pillow. The sun beating down on me, the sound of the waves, and the occasional sound of children’s laughter bring me a sense of calm I haven’t felt in months.
Life back in San Francisco is always moving so fast. I spend more time in the office than at home, and I rarely find myself going out with my coworkers once the work week is over. For me, the work week is never over. If I’m not researching for my next assignment, I’m editing projects. If I’m not editing projects, I’m on the hunt for something new and exciting that I can pitch to Alicia. And if I’m not working on a new pitch, I’m sleeping.
Looking back, sometimes I’m not surprised Adam ended up cheating on me. He was right about one thing: I did put work above everything else. Growing up, the only time I found any peace or quiet away from the turmoil of my parents’ relationship was when I had homework or extracurricular activities. I offered to tutor my peers in high school so I could stay late at school. When I reached college, I spent more time in the library than I did in my dorm room out of habit. And that followed me into my adult life.
Work was the only thing I had that helped me avoid any and all problems in my personal life. Anything that went wrong with work was always fixable. There were ways to make an article better; you could spend hours researching to make sure your interview was perfect, and if anything ever fell through, there were countless other sports and teams to fill it. But in mypersonal life? Everything was so much harder to fix. So instead, I focused on the only thing I had any real control over: my career.
Of course, that didn’t bode well for a relationship. Who in their right mind would want to date someone who was only willing to give them maybe an hour of their time each week? Who would ever want to date someone who spends more time at work than should be humanly possible? I know if roles were reversed, I’d probably leave me, too. You can’t build anything real if you never put the time or effort into it.
Granted, my first relationship was the exception. I prioritized him over everything else. I made sure to only take assignments during the week so my weekends were free for him. If I knew I’d be late, I always had dinner waiting for him to heat up when he beat me home. I’d book us trips so we could get away and have some real alone time. I genuinely thought he was the one I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with.
Until I got a text from an unknown number that showed him making out with someone else.
Even when I gave it my all, I was still left heartbroken.
I swore then and there that I’d never give someone more than they gave me. So my next relationship was one of equal give and take, which didn’t last long. He hated that I wasn’t more ‘dutiful’ or ‘dedicated’ to putting in extra effort. Couldn’t stand that I didn’t bend over backward for him in ways he wouldn’t ever do for me. Then one night when we were out at a bar with some of his friends, who I couldn’t stand, he ended up fucking a girl in the alleyway.
A real prince charming, that one. I wasn’t that heartbroken.
But Adam? That’s one I look back on with anger and slight regret.
After the end of my second relationship, I swore that was it. But Adam was always there; he was one of the few who could make me laugh when I wanted to do anything but. He was theonly one who picked up when I was having a rough day, or my father was breathing down my neck. He was the only one to show up at my mother’s funeral. I became reliant on him in a way I never wanted to be with another man. Another person, for that matter. But I let him in as much as I could. He gave me more than I ever gave him, even though I tried. Yet the damage that had been done was too extensive and I couldn’t give him what he needed.
Doesn’t excuse him cheating on me, though.
Yet, the more I think about it, maybe Rylie isn’t so crazy after all. Maybe what I really need is just someone to satisfy me sexually so I can go on for a few more months before I start feeling this way again. She has it in her head that I’m uptight and short-tempered because I haven’t been laid in six months. And even though I hate to admit it, there may be some truth to her words.
Sometimes your vibrator can only satisfy you so much.
But the difference between her and me is I don’t like to share. I can’t stand the thought of someone I sleep with sleeping with someone else—which I understand is ironic considering my track record. I don’t like the idea of jumping from bed to bed and never really knowing the person. Connection is important to me, always has been, so if you’re lucky enough to find a man who is all in for exclusive fuck buddies with no promise of a romantic future, count your lucky stars. I’m convinced they’re rarer than unicorns or leprechauns.
“Just because you don’t want to date doesn’t mean you can’t take him for a spin,”Rylie’s voice replays through my mind. The only question now is, who do I want to classify as ‘him’?
“Hey there, Sweetheart.”
Go figure. Nope. Not taking this as a sign.
I lower my book and look up at Jesse over my sunglasses. “Hey there, Pretty Boy. What brings you to my beach?”
