Page 15 of Use Me
“Sure. Name the time and the place, and I’ll be there to help you get drunk.”
And that was why Jaime was my best friend. She got me.
When I got home, Bridgette was gone. Thank the fucking Lord! Was I thankful though? Even in my buzzed state of mine, I realized my place was silent. There was no chick drama show on the TV, no loud cackling, no Food Network BS that made me hungry, and there was no sex for me tonight.
I would have went home with Ashtyn though. Fuck, I would have.
Kissing her was not enough for me. I wanted more. When I told her to use me, I was serious. We could both use each other to forget about our exes. But did I want mindless sex to get over Bridgette?
Yes, I did.
I wanted all the sex so I could erase the image of Bridgette riding some guy’s dick in my bed.I need to burn my sheets.I had no idea how long her cheating had been going on because I worked crazy hours when there were games. Most hockey games were at night, and one or two nights a week were home games, so I wouldn’t get home until the bars were closed. When we played on the west coast, I was home a few hours earlier. I loved it.
I didn’t, however, love coming home to see my girlfriend cheating on me.
After taking a shower, I stripped my bed of the nasty sheets, stuffed them in the trash and then lay on my bed with a blanket from my couch. I was going to sleep on the couch, but why would I do that when the mattress was okay?Wasthe mattress okay? I checked for cum stains but didn’t see any. Even if there was, I wouldn’t know if it was mine or not. Fuck it. I was getting a new mattress too. I decided to sleep on the couch.
The blanket I draped over me smelled like Bridgette. Everything smelled like Bridgette: vanilla and shit. I’d given her a key a year or so ago, and she’d moved in. I hadn’t asked her to, but one day her toothbrush was at my place, and the next her entire closet.
Shit.
That thought made me realize I didn’t get her key back and she didn’t leave it. I unlocked my phone to text her, but there was a notification from Facebook that I was tagged in a photo on my lock screen. It caused me to forget what I was doing. I smiled because I knew exactly what photo it was. After swiping the notification, I unlocked my phone, and the moment the picture graced my screen, my grin widened. There was comment after comment about how awesome it was that two young newscasters from different stations were together. I didn’t know why people thought it was weird. I didn’t. Maybe people were tripping out because these were our friends and word hadn’t gotten around that we were both single? If they only knew that my lips had tasted hers …
I left a comment that she would only know the meaning of:
Use me anytime ;)
I’d be her fake boyfriend any day or night.
The sound of my front door made me jolt awake.
I’d forgotten I’d fallen asleep on the couch until my head turned to the sound of heels walking into the room. “What are you doing here?” I groaned.
Bridgette closed the door behind her. “I was hoping we could talk.”
“What is there to talk about?” I stood and went to start a cup of coffee.
“I’m sorry.”
I laughed. “Sorry? Let me guess, you fell?”
“What?” Bridgette asked coming up behind me. She sat on the bar stool while I prepared the Keurig.
“You fell on his dick?”
She sighed and repeated, “I’m sorry.”
She didn’t answer my question, but I knew the answer. I turned around and crossed my arms over my chest. “Sorry? How long has it been going on?”
“Does it matter?”
I stared into her brown eyes, not replying. Did it matter? Did I want her back? Obviously, she was here to talk which meant she wanted to get back together. Did I want that? Could I trust her again?
“Why?” I finally asked.
Bridgette averted her eyes. “I don’t really have an answer. It just happened.”
“How many times?”
