Page 38 of Never Started
The average-height guy with cropped brown hair and pretty eyes scoffs, and his face twists in confusion.
His name is Jeffrey. I only know this because of his apparent idea of "sexy talk," which includes talking about himself in the third person.
Talk about fucking cringe.
"Jeffrey just wants to taste you, baby."
"Fuck this!" I shout, pushing off his lap and adjusting my skirt and panties as I stand.
"What the fuck?"
"Izzy is no longer interested. Get out, Jim."
"My name is Jeffrey!" he growls as he stands, looking appalled as if I slapped him in the face.
"Ha, yeah, Jeremy. You need to fucking leave." I point to the door, throwing his boxers and pants at him.
He rolls his eyes but doesn't put up any more of a fight.
"You're a bitch, you know that?" he says over his shoulder, as he walks through the front door's threshold.
"And damn proud of it, bud! Goodbye!" I slam the door in Jeffrey's face before he can speak again.
I'm fuming. His dick was a decent size and would have done the job. If only he knew how to shut his fucking mouth.
I'm trying. I'm genuinely fucking trying to forget.
Yet, every time I'm with someone else, I'm quickly reminded that they aren'tJett.
They don’t have his dark sense of humor that matches mine. They don’t understand me on a deeper level and push me tobe more than I thought I was capable of. They don’t make my heart pick up its pace in my chest with just a simple touch. They don’t look at me the way that he always has—like I hung the damn moon and created the stars. They’ll never be him.
It pisses me off.
So, what do I do?
I keep fucking different ones, and I'll continue to do so until I forgethim.
Until I forget it all.
My method may be illogical and not make sense to most, but I’m banking on it working for me. I mean, shit, it’s gotten me this far.
One day, it will work. It has to.
Chapter seventeen
Jett
November 2018
I slam my phone down with a huff.
Who the fuck am I anymore? Resorting to stalking her social media just for a glimpse of her is unlike me. I rarely get on the damn apps, but lately, I can't stay off of them.
I'm pretty sure that after hitting refresh for the thirtieth time, it should have been clear that she hadn't made any recent posts.
Seeing her pictures bring me a fucked-up sense of peace. I'm constantly searching for any sign of her actually moving on. She spoke the words, and that alone should have been enough. I should have been done then.
Something tells me it was all bullshit to push me away.
