YOU DON’T KNOW JACK SCHMIDT

SUSAN RENEE

You Don’t Know Jack Schmidt

Original Copyright © Susan Renee 2017

All Rights Reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of this book without the permission of the publisher or author constitutes unlawful piracy and theft. For use of any part of this book please contact the Author at authorsusanrenee@gmail.com for written consent.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead, is coincidental.

Except for the original material written by the author, all songs, and/or song titles mentioned, throughout the novel You Don’t Know Jack Schmidt, are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.

Disclaimer: This book is intended for adult readers only and is not appropriate for minors. There is some language and adult sexual content. This book is just meant to be fun. If you don’t have a sense of humor, you might not want to get to know Jack Schmidt.

Cover art by Samantha Roth of Grothic Designs

Editing by Nikki Rose

Formatting by Annie Anderson

To my team of Book Bitches.

Thank you for your willingness to be silly with me and for your help in making a ridiculous bunch of “Schmidt” titles become an entertaining book series. I love how much we laugh together.

You make my life fun.

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

About the Author

Where can I read more from Susan Renee?

Where can I keep in touch with Susan Renee?

CHAPTER ONE

LINDA

Some nights I can look at myself in the mirror before I go to bed and tell myself that I’m one sexy woman, with a pretty darn easy life. Other nights, like tonight, all I see is the smudged eyeliner of an exhausted, emotional, jealous best friend of a girl who is living it up in New York City this weekend with the man of her dreams. I know Jenna deserves a happily ever after, and she sure as hell better get it from Jacoby, but that doesn’t stop me from sometimes wishing that I could have that life too. The one where I’m not sleeping with random men who can’t remember my name. The one where I’m not looking around in dirty bars for “Mister Right Now. I’ve seen them all. There’s nobody there, and anyways, none of them are very good in bed.

“One of these days.” I sigh, shaking my head. I grab the facewash off the shelf in the shower and pull my hair back so I don’t get it drenched while washing the day’s goop off my face. Patting myself dry, I drag my towel down my face, opening my eyes to see my reflection in the mirror. “Who am I kidding? One of these days Jenna is going to leave me to spend her days and nights with Mr. Jacked-up Jacoby, and I’ll be completely alone. God, I wish I could get my shit together.”

I hang my towel on the bar in the bathroom and make my way to my bed to settle in for the night. Like every other night, I go through my bedtime routine of checking Facebook one more time, you know, in case I missed something from the last time I checked about fifteen minutes ago, and play a few levels of Candy Crush. I usually last until I get one of those God-awful levels where it’s virtually impossible to get the ingredients all the way to the bottom.

“Ugh! Candy Crush, I’m going to rage-quit you!” I seethe as I throw my phone down next to me and roll over to go to sleep. I lay there for a good ten minutes wide awake before I decide to grab my phone and check my email, because I’m bored and can’t sleep anyway. None of my emails seem pressing, since really nobody important sends me emails anymore. They just text me if they need me. Among the hundreds of junk mail emails I get every day is an email advertisement for an app called The Watering Hole, an “online dating experience.”

“Ha! I almost made Jenna sign up for this before her new main squeeze showed up,” I say out loud to absolutely nobody but myself. The ad shows reviews of the app, almost two-thousand, awarding four to five stars, and a short explanation for downloaders.

Your mother always tells you that there are plenty of fish in the sea. Turns out, she is right. You just had to know where to look! Well scroll no further. The Watering Hole is your place for all-you-can-meet fish! Be singular and develop a one-of-a kind match with someone special, or simply use The Watering Hole as your place to hang out and meet new people!

“The Watering Hole…it sounds like a pee trough or something.” I shake my head and lay my phone down next to me, willing myself to fall asleep before I do something stupid. The idea waffles back and forth in my mind for almost fifteen minutes. I don’t know what the heck makes me do it, but my finger hits the link to download the app before I can stop myself. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I mumble. Within about fifteen seconds The Watering Hole app is on my phone and I’m opening it to see what happens. Will there be a list of guys I can just choose from? “I bet they’ll all be mega nerds who boast what big dicks they have.” I snort. “‘Because you know, they speak Spockly and carry big dicks.”

In order to see the contents of the app, I’m asked to immediately create a profile for myself. “Ugh! I really have to do this? Why am I even doing this?”

Because Jenna isn’t here to tell me no.

I take a deep breath, reminding myself that this can all be anonymous and can all go away with the swipe of a finger. There’s nobody here but me, and I can’t sleep, so I may as well have a little fun with this before I close my eyes for the night. The app asks me to create a username.

“Hmm…what would be a good username?” I tap my chin trying to come up with the most ridiculous username in the world, because there’s no way I’m taking this seriously.

“’RadandBad?’” I suggest. “Hmm, no. Maybe something more like ‘RandyPants.’ Oooh, no. I’ve got it. Hahaha this is going to be fun…” My thumbs work quickly, typing out my new username. I’m giddy when I see it hasn’t been taken yet. Not really surprised, but giddy just the same. I laugh every time I see the movie and can’t wait to see what some nerdy guy has to say about my inherent typo.

Username: NoRagrets

I go through the motions of choosing a password and learning all the specific information about my newly created account. The next thing I’m asked to do is write a quick blurb about me and upload a photo. I don’t even bother scrolling through the pictures on my phone to find a good one of me. Without giving it much thought I sit up against my headboard, turn on the lamp beside me and snap a selfie. “You want dark brown hair and a nose ring? You got it! No filters here!” I quickly upload the ridiculous photo I just took to my profile, before continuing to come up with a quick blurb about myself.

Here I am, completely unfiltered. I’m easy-going, but sometimes a pissy bitch (the world’s greatest according to my BFF). I don’t take life too seriously. How arrogant of me. I laugh about a lot of things, even when I shouldn’t.

I eat sarcasm for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and I carry an Angry Vagina Box to work once a month. I’m positive, but realistic. I’m a fierce friend, but I don’t have time or energy for stupid drama or unnecessary small talk. I’m fun and funny, say the people who laugh at me, but compassionate when I need to be. I read kinky romance books, but I love a good Avengers movie. #TeamCptAmerica I’m all that and a bag of chips, so if you like chips…

“Done. That should do it.” I snicker. “Let’s see what the cat drags in.” I close the app, finally yawning and looking forward to a good night’s sleep. Once the lamp is turned off I drift to sleep, dreaming about a sea filled with all kinds of colorful fish, one sparkly narwhal and an octopus that paints.

CHAPTER TWO

JACK - 2003

“Hey Jacoby?” I say quietly as we sit in the treehouse copying math homework off each other.

“Yeah?”

I’ve been waiting to ask him this question since yesterday, but I had to be certain we were alone first. Going through the foster system as much as I have sucks on so many levels. I may have made it to the eighth grade, but there’s so much I don’t know, and nobody to ask except my new best friend.

“Uh, so…do you know…what a twinkie is?”

Jacoby turns his head towards me like I’m crazy and chuckles. “Duh, man. Yeah. Twinkies are those yellow cakes, remember? With the crème in the middle? We just had some the other day after school…remember?”

“Yeah I know that,” I tell him. “But your brother, Andy. I heard him say to his friend yesterday that some girl was a hot twinkie, and then he started doing this.” I stand up and thrust my hips forward several times in what I know is an inappropriate gesture. I know that because I’ve seen boys at school do it and get in trouble. I’ve also seen it on TV but people are usually laughing when it happens. Jacoby laughs again, causing my face to redden further than it already has.

“Oh that!” he says. “Yeah, Andy told me once that a twinkie is a hot girl that…you know…” He shrugs.

“Know what?” I ask, embarrassed that I have no idea what he’s talking about. Jacoby stares at me for a second, his eyes narrowed as if he’s contemplating something.

“A girl you want to blow your white creme into. Know what I mean?” he explains, repeating my pelvic gesture. I just watch him, befuddled.

“Your dick, dude! Haven’t your parents ever talked to you about sex? Well…maybe not your parents. My dad didn’t talk to me. It was Andy, because my dad is rarely here, but Andy gave me this magazine one day called Penthouse, and told me all about it.”

“Uh…I don’t…I mean, I’ve heard about ssss…ex, but that’s all.” I say the words out loud as quickly and quietly as I can. Damn, this is embarrassing. At least Jacoby is my friend. I trust him.

“Oh man, Schmidt, my brother, he knows like, everything a guy ever needs to know about girls and stuff. I can show you some things. Come on,” he says, smirking as he makes for the ladder leading down to the yard. “Let’s go to my room. I keep that magazine under my mattress. Wait till you see the middle pages! This picture is going to blow your mind.” Jacoby stops suddenly and puts his finger up warning me. “But you better not blow anything else or you’re cleaning it up!”

2016

I can’t believe I’m about to do this. After many years chocked full of awkward distractions that is the female genders, sexual experiences that either left me a hot mess or carrying a heavy set of blue balls, and no emotions other than frustration to go with any of it, I’m finally doing it. I’m about to ask the internet to find me a girl. I’m about to rely on the fact that I can pick and choose the kind of woman I want right down to hair color and the kind of underwear she prefers. It’s as easy as clicking the box next to all the “toppings” I want. It’s people-shopping. I’m about to shop for a girlfriend.

“God, this is like a woman buffet,” I say, feeling a little embarrassed that I even considered logging on to The Watering Hole, an online dating website. Enough advertisements for it have come across my screen when I’m online that I figured why the hell not?

“Username…” I say out loud sitting at my desk. Sampson, my best friend and cutest bulldog ever, lays at my feet, snoring away. “Hmm, I need something catchy...” I take a few minutes to make a list of names that come to mind.

JackneedsJill

JackAttack

JustJack

JackS

Jax

“Jax! It’s like Jack S., but cooler,” I say proudly as I type the username into the computer. I come up with a password and then move on to creating a profile for myself. I have more selfies on my phone than a teenage girl because all I do at night is sit at home and take pictures of myself with Sampson. Who doesn’t like pictures of a guy and his dog, anyway? “Now for a blurb about me. Good God, what the hell do I say here? ‘Nice to meet you, I’m the nerd who can dance, and I never break the rules,’” I joke.

Leaning back in my chair, I run my hands through my hair and take a deep breath as I muster up the courage to complete this dating profile. “What should I write, Sam?” I forget sometimes that my favorite four-legged friend can’t actually speak, but I scratch his head as a thank-you anyway. “How about I just go for honesty? Okay Jack, you got this. Let’s do it.”

I’m the guy who pays his rent on time and wears matching socks. I’m a good guy with a strong, promising career and strong set of personal values. I learned how to treat a woman like a queen from my still happily married parents. That being said, I could watch Deadpool once a day if I had the time. I love action movies, but enjoy a good romantic comedy as well. I like to kick back on the water with a beer on the weekends, and playing poker is something I’m starting to excel at. I’m a single father to the best bulldog in town and wouldn’t trade him for the world so if you’re interested, you must love dogs.

“Ok. That’s not so bad,” I murmur, rereading my words through before hitting ‘Submit’. There it is. My profile. Officially on an online dating website. “Please don’t make me regret this.” I plead to the computer gods. Once my profile is created, I take a few minutes to scroll through the women that The Watering Hole says I might be interested in.

“Oh, good grief. Listen to this one Sampson., I tell the lazy dog curled at my feet. “This girl says,”

‘I hope you know how to treat a lady. A great smile is a must as I have all my teeth. You have to have all yours too. Not too much to ask for, is it?’

“Unbelievable.” I laugh as I read down through several other profiles. “Wow. Here’s another one.

I hope you make more than twenty dollars an hour because I’m usually an expensive date, and oh, my God, if you fart in my presence, you can kiss this relationship goodbye. #stayclassy

Laughing, I roll my eyes and mumble, “Well, I guess she’s out.” I lean down and pet my favorite bulldog on the back of his head. He groans in satisfaction. “Sam, I need a girl. Or a friend, but preferably a girlfriend since the only other person I enjoy hanging out with is Jacoby, and he’s a little tied up with his Jenna these days.” Sampson rolls over, exposing his belly, clearly implying that he wants a rub. “I mean, no offense, you’re great to snuggle with, but you don’t smell as good as a woman would. Though from the looks of things maybe this website isn’t for me. Nobody is standing out.” Sampson rolls over and stands up, stretching out his short stubby legs before walking out to the kitchen where I hear him lapping water out of his bowl. Lackadaisically, I scroll through the next group of women, one after another, not seeing anything that catches my eye. That is until I see her.

Dark brown hair, possibly brown eyes, a small diamond nose ring. She’s everything I would probably never go for – and I really only say that because of the nose ring – but for some reason I can’t stop looking at her. Her picture isn’t like the others who have posted their profiles. There are no duck lips. She’s not pushing her chest out for the world to see. It’s not a professional head shot taken from some yuppie photographer in the corporate world. It doesn’t appear that she’s dressed to the nines. It’s just her, plain face with no makeup. It almost appears like she may have just woken up when this picture was taken...or she was just going to sleep. Her hair is splayed around her face in that messy-hair-don’t-care look.

“NoRagrets?” I read her username and laugh loudly. “Please tell me that’s not a typo and that she loves watching We’re the Millers. Damn, that’s a funny movie!”

Here I am, completely unfiltered. I’m easy-going, but sometimes a pissy bitch (the world’s greatest according to my BFF). I don’t take life too seriously. How arrogant of me. I laugh about a lot of things, even when I shouldn’t. I eat sarcasm for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and I carry an Angry Vagina Box to work once a month. I’m positive, but realistic. I’m a fierce friend, but I don’t have time or energy for stupid drama or unnecessary small talk. I’m fun and funny, say the people who laugh at me, but compassionate when I need to be. I read kinky romance books, but I love a good Avengers movie. #TeamCptAmerica I’m all that and a bag of chips, so if you like chips…

“You’re kidding! She’s a Marvel fan, huh?” I exclaim. “And kinky romance novels? I wonder if she’s ever read Ashton Jacobs books. Hmm, if things go well, I could get her a signed copy of her favorite book. Or better yet…I could be the guy who introduces her to her favorite author if, in fact, Ashton Jacobs is her favorite.” I chuckle to myself knowing my best friend. “He would tell me he’s everyone’s favorite.”

Although it’s late, I can feel the energy starting to flow back through my body as my interest in NoRagrets grows. I’m sure she’s way out of my league but I want to reach out to her, even if it’s just to say that we have a mutual taste in movies. “But what do I say?” I murmur to myself as I rub the five o’clock shadow around my chin. I click on the chat box near her name and watch as it opens for me to send her a message. “Hmm, she doesn’t like unnecessary small talk…well, hopefully she’ll get my sense of humor.” I chuckle to myself after rereading my message to her. “Now, if she gets it, she’ll write back. If not, at least I took a shot.” I put my laptop to sleep and take Sampson out one more time before heading to bed. With any luck, sometime tomorrow, I’ll hear from the pretty girl with the sparkly nose ring.

CHAPTER THREE

LINDA

I’m running late for work as usual. I skid into the front parking spot at Speedway like I’m Danica Patrick in the biggest race of her life, and run inside to get my daily Red Bull and bag of cheese Combos. Breakfast of champions, I know.

I shoot Jenna a quick text, knowing full well she won’t answer me until later in the day. There’s no way in hell she’s up this early after her event in the city last night with Jacoby. I’m anxious to hear how it went, though.

“Good morning,” I say to the girl behind the checkout counter. She looks none too pleased to be working this early in the morning either. I feel her pain. She grunts her hello back to me and I pretend I heard her loud and clear. After throwing some money at the ever-so-chipper checkout girl I take my supergirl breakfast to my car and enjoy a few sips of my morning juju while checking my phone for texts or Facebook messages. When I swipe right I see a notification I haven’t seen before. There’s been some sort of contact via The Watering Hole app.

“Huh.” I scrunch my eyebrows. “That was fast. I wonder what kind of creeper is wanting my attention now.” I click on the app to open it and see a yellow chat box spring open alerting me to a private message from a someone named “Jax.”

“Jax.” I say out loud. His message reads:

Jax: YOU KNOW, FEW PEOPLE HAVE THE AUDACITY OR THE BALLS FOR THAT MATTER, TO CALL THEMSELVES ARROGANT, EVEN IF IT IS TRUE. I WONDER IF IT MEANS YOU’RE TRULY ONE HONEST WOMAN EVEN WITH YOURSELF, OR IF YOU’RE SECRETLY FILLED WITH RAGRETS? KNOW WHAT I’M SAYIN’?

A smile spreads across my face immediately. “Oh, my God he gets me! There’s no way that’s just a coincidence! He’s seen We’re the Millers. Hahaha that’s awesome.” I want to write back right now, but I hold myself back, at least for a bit. I don’t want to seem desperate by responding so quickly to his message, and I need at least two Red Bulls in me before I even attempt a witty response that will sound genuinely like me. I drop my phone into my pocket and pull out of the Speedway to head to work. Time to face the asshats for the day.

What is this fascination with homemade slime these days? We’re selling out of glue and laundry detergent left and right. I can’t keep it on the shelves. Even as I’m restocking the inventory a young boy, probably not older than nine or ten comes up with his father, and takes ten glue bottles! TEN!

“Hey,” I say to him, smiling. I narrow my eyes playfully suspicious. “Are you by any chance making…slime?”

“Yeah I am. How did you know?” the kid asks, eyes wide.

I can’t help but laugh. “Well, usually kids themselves don’t come in here and buy ten glue bottles at a time, so I had my suspicions.”

“Oh. Yeah.” The kid smiles. “I sell it to my friends.”

You’re shittin’ me.

“The glue?” I ask him.

“No, the slime. You guys are the only ones in town with any glue left. So, I buy a bunch of it and make lots of slime, all different colors, and sell it at recess for fifty cents a bag.”

“No way!” I exclaim. This kid is a genius.

“Yeah.” He nods proudly. “I’ve made ten bucks in profit so far. I use the rest of it to come buy more glue.”

“Wow. Well congratulations. You’re quite the entrepreneur.” I tell him. “Are you saving up for something special?”

“Nah. Maybe a new video game or something like that. I’ll need a little more than ten bucks though,” he says.

“Right. Well, good luck to you then. I hope your little slime business becomes wildly successful.” I shake the boy’s hand and smile with a nod to his father.

It’s the end of my shift before I even think about Jax and his earlier message. I almost feel guilty that I never responded to him, but then again, it’s not like this is anything serious. If he’s a smart man, he’ll know I most likely have a job and therefore am not available during the day. I’ll come up with something to say on my way home. On my way out, I check my phone and see a text from Jenna.

Jenna: It was a very moving experience. More later. Home tonight!

A moving experience? I’m not sure that’s the response I was thinking she would give about a book signing, but nonetheless, thank goodness she’ll be home and can chat later. Since I’m not in the mood to cook anything tonight I decide to stop for Chinese on the way home. I order my usual, General Tso's chicken with white rice, and an egg roll, and make my way home to stuff my face and learn more about this Jax character.

It’s a darn good thing that online relationships are built anonymously at first, with no cameras or video chats, because I look like shit. My hair is pulled up in a huge pile on the top of my head, my work shirt is hanging on the back of my desk chair and I’m lounging comfortably in my pink fleece pants, blue tunic sweatshirt that hangs off one shoulder, and my huge narwhal slippers, because why not? It’s been a cold couple of days to the point that I’ve wondered if we would start to see snow pretty soon. It’s only October, but it’s not like snow hasn’t happened before during this time of the year, especially in New England.

“Ok Jax,” I say as I sit down on the couch, pulling my legs up and resting my laptop on my thighs. “Let’s see who you are.” I click on the message box in my profile to bring up his earlier message, which also brings up his profile picture. It’s bigger now on my laptop than it was on my phone so I can see him a little more clearly.

“Aww I wonder if Jax is his dog.” I ponder, looking at the surprisingly sexy guy with black rimmed glasses and contented smile lying next to his brown and white bulldog. I have to admit it’s a cute picture, but I don’t usually go for the preppy, nerdy types. Regardless, I take a breath and give a simple conversation a shot.

NoRagrets: I’m glad you appreciate honesty! Really, I’m an open book with no shame in my flaws because, well, we all have them, right? So yeah. No Ragrets ;) I’ll own my shit and expect others to do the same. I like to have a good time, but I expect to be respected. I’m a very objective person so I like to ask a lot of questions. No topic is really a hard limit for me past a certain point in a friendship. Like I said, no ragrets.

PS. I didn’t really expect anyone to get my reference, so thanks for not assuming I’m some idiot who can’t spell.

I know I told him I don’t have shame in my flaws, and for the most part, that’s not a lie. I’m not really ashamed that I’ve spent the last several years sleeping around with many different men, or that I couldn’t list all their names if my life depended on it. I’m not really ashamed that I’ve never taken a relationship with a man seriously, or even attempted to look for a good guy outside of a local bar. I’m not really ashamed that I’m still working at The Hole Punch after all these years when I could be doing something else, but have been too scared to look. And in all honesty, I’m not even ashamed that I’m sitting here on this online dating website striking up a conversation with some guy I’ve never met. I’m just not at the point yet that I want to tell Jenna about it. She’ll never leave me alone if I do.

I reread my response to Jax before hitting the submit button, and then switch over to my Facebook account to send a message to Jenna.

Linda: Hey bitch-achos. Are you back?

Jenna: Yeah! Got back about an hour ago. Just got done in the shower.

Linda: Hubba Hubba ☺

Jenna: LOL! No, that was earlier, and last night, but who’s counting? How was work today? Did Kyle make it in?

Linda: Dang girl, well, it’s nice to know someone is getting a Grade-A hole punch around here. And yeah Kyle came in today. Pretty boring day really.I worked on the inventory a little while Kyle set up some new planograms.

Jenna: Sounds good. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow!

DING!

As I’m typing a response to Jenna, I receive a message through The Watering Hole. “Whoa. That was fast,” I say, raising my eyebrows in surprise as I click over to the open site on my computer:

Jax: WOW. YOU’RE DEFINITELY A GIRL WHO KNOWS WHAT SHE WANTS. I HOPE I CAN HANDLE IT. NO SHAME IN YOUR FLAWS AT ALL. IT’S A VERY ADMIRABLE QUALITY, THOUGH I WOULDN’T REALLY KNOW, SINCE I’M PERFECT ;)

PS. THAT WAS A JOKE

Ha! It’s cute that he feels the need to tell me when he’s joking since we’re talking online and tones can be misconstrued that way. I’m still hoping deep down, he’s not a yuppie prick. And what’s with the all caps. I feel like he’s screaming at me. At least, I’m reading it that way, which kind of makes everything he says even funnier.

NoRagrets: Thank God, you’re perfect! Less work for me then.

Jax: OK BE HONEST, DID YOU JUST WRITE BACK BECAUSE OF MY DOG IN MY PICTURE?

His response is surprisingly quick. He’s obviously sitting at his computer as I am.

NoRagrets: Hahahaha! Yes, yes, I did. You caught me.

Jax: I CAN’T LIE. I USE HIM AS A TRAP TO ATTRACT BEAUTIFUL WOMEN, SO I GUESS WE BOTH GOT WHAT WE WANTED.

PS. THAT WAS A JOKE TOO. IN ALL HONESTY YOU’RE THE FIRST PERSON I’VE EVER SPOKEN TO ON ONE OF THESE SITES.

NoRagrets: If we’re sharing truths now, you’re the first person I’ve ever spoken to on one of these sites too. Thanks for popping my dating site cherry. So, Mr. Jax, why are we talking in all caps?

Jax: BECAUSE YOU SAID YOU DIDN’T LIKE UNNECESSARY SMALL TALK SO I TRIED TO MAKE MY WORDS AS BIG AS POSSIBLE.

Hahahahaha! Oh, my God, I think I love this guy. Cute personality and obviously pays attention to detail. Please let first impressions be correct.

NoRagrets: LOL! I think this might be my favorite conversation ever! How can you be single?

Jax: I promise I’m not some kind of weirdo creep. I just have a busy job, and never took a lot of time to focus on relationships.

NoRagrets: Oh, well that’s honest. Can’t blame a guy for wanting to climb the corporate ladder. What do you do?

Jax: Child Advocacy Law. I’m the voice for the young ones who don’t have one.

NoRagrets: That sounds like something you should be very proud of.

Jax: It is. I work hard to make sure the defenseless children aren’t being taken advantage of.

NoRagrets: Should I erase “pretentious prick” from your invisible profile, then? Because there’s no way an asshole lawyer would be interested in helping kids. You must be one of the good ones.

Jax: Absolutely. Let’s go with that! What about you? What do you do?

NoRagrets: Well, my degree is in graphic design but right now, I’m living the retail life. I do a little freelance design work on the side.

Jax: That’s great! I’ve always envied the artsy people who have an eye for design.

NoRagrets: Yeah, it’s fun and freeing when you’re not being held back by stupid regulations. So, tell me, after reading your profile, have you ever, in your life, worn un-matching socks or are you really that OCD?

Jax: Is this where I’m supposed to tell you that my Mom taught me to safety pin my socks together when I put them in the laundry so they don’t get separated? Oh man, I may have just reached dork status. I’m a dork, right? It’s okay…I can take it.

NoRagrets: Ah, a man who can accept his own dorkiness. Refreshing. Do you watch Star Wars too?

Jax: *Enter R2D2 sounds here* ☺

“Hahaha. Cute.” I grin to myself. “At least he has a sense of humor.”

NoRagrets: Cute. Ok Mr. Child-helping-lawyer-who-wears-matching-socks. Tell me one of your more not-so-perfect moments. And please, for the love of God, and my sanity, if you really are that perfect, come up with a good story so I don’t feel completely inadequate.

CHAPTER FOUR

JACK

NoRagrets was right. She does like to ask a lot of questions. “Not so perfect moment.” I laugh. “HA! Where the hell should I start? My whole entire life has been a not-so-perfect moment.”

2006

“Dude, It’s a ninety-seven percent. What are you so upset about?” Jacoby asks as he watches me exchange books and slam my locker door closed. We both turn and head back down the hall to our next class.

“You know why I’m upset, Jacoby. I should’ve been able to ace that test, but instead I missed the easiest question. All because Emily licked her bottom lip and winked at me and I was distracted by my insta-boner.”

Jacoby slaps me on the shoulder and laughs heartily. “Ahhh yes. The insta-boner excuse. I’m sure that’s one Mr. Hoster hears all the time.”

I can’t help but laugh with him. “Shut the fuck up, man, and stop trying to make me laugh. It was stupid of me to let a girl distract me from making good grades. My mom would be pissed if she knew.”

“Yeah well, she doesn’t, so don’t even bring it up. It was an honest mistake and you just read the question too fast. Piece of cake.” Jacoby explains. “Besides, there are much more important things you should be thinking about.”

“Yeah?” I huff. “Like what?”

“Like how Emily obviously wants to put out for you, and tonight might very well be your lucky night.” Jacoby’s eyebrows raise up and down several times. “Her parents aren’t going to be home tonight, man. Tonight, is the night you get laid, Schmidt Stain!”

I stop walking and turn to him. “How do you know her parents won’t be home?”

“Because, dumbass!” He punches me lightly on my upper arm. “Her parents are going to that benefit dinner tonight. Same place your parents and my parents are going. It couldn’t be any more perfect, Schmidt. You have to go for it.”

“Jacoby, I’ve only kissed her a few times. I can’t just rip her clothes off and bend her over.”

“Says who?” Jacoby smirks. I give him a disapproving frown before continuing down the hall to the last door on the left. Art class. “Alright, alright, alright, so maybe tonight isn’t the night for a home-run. That doesn’t mean you can’t have a little fun. She’s clearly interested.”

“You think so?” I ask.

“I sure do, Insta-boner,” he jokes.

“Okay, okay. I get it. Of course, I’ll go for it. I mean, I’ll go for something. I’ll try.” I tell him even though I’m not one hundred percent confident with anything I’m saying. I can’t tell him that, though. He’ll just tell me how disappointed he is that I’m basically a seventeen-year-old super-virgin.

The plan tonight is to go to Emily’s and watch a movie with a few friends. Emily’s parents have always been good about allowing us to hang out at their house. They feel better knowing that we’re safe in someone’s home and not acting like crazy lunatics on the streets at night getting into trouble. Emily chose Pirates of the Caribbean for tonight. I’m pretty sure it’s because the group of cackling girls here have a swoony crush on Orlando Bloom. All I can do is roll my eyes every time one of them sighs at his every word. It’s really not that big a deal though. Emily has had her hand on my thigh since the movie started. Six more inches up and she would be touching my dick. I’m trying very hard not to think about it and instead, cursing the gods who came up with these constricting jeans I’m wearing. What the hell was I thinking?

By ten o’clock, the movie has ended and the girls have all headed home. I figured at the very least, I would help Emily clean up the popcorn and soda cans around the room.

“Hey,” she says when she comes back up the stairs from seeing the girls out. I immediately notice that another button on her button-down shirt has been undone.

“Hey. I put the popcorn in the kitchen and threw away the cans…” I begin.

“I don’t care about that.” She smiles. She walks toward me and grabs my hand, leading me back to the couch where we were. She sits down and pats the cushion next to her for me to sit down. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you since the movie started, and now that we’re alone…” Her voice trails off as her hands start to wander.

Up my thigh.

Insta-boner!

Damn these jeans!

I’m not sure what kind of demon possesses me. Maybe it’s my penis doing all the thinking for me, but I lean forward without even thinking about it and kiss Emily like she’s the air I need to breathe. I don’t even know if I’m doing it right. I never got any kind of kissing lessons, if there even is such a thing, and I’ve certainly never asked Jacoby about it. I figure after watching enough Showtime After Dark in my bedroom, I at least have the basic moves figured out. Her tongue softly rolls around mine, and she doesn’t pull away, so I’m guessing this is good.

I’m really regretting choosing these jeans right about now. I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard before in my life. Well, okay that’s a lie. The tits I see on Showtime can get me pretty hard but oh, my God, there is nothing like a girl pushing her chest toward me, just begging to be touched, to make my dick feel like a steel pipe. I’m hesitant to touch her breasts without consent, so I consciously only move my hand down around her neck and over her shoulders to the sides of her body.

“It’s okay Jack,” Emily whispers as she tilts her head to the opposite side to continue kissing me. “I picked out this bra especially for you. Do you want to see it?”

“Ye-yes.” I answer perhaps a little too hastily. “I mean, if you want to show it to me.”

“It’s pink,” she says.

“I love pink.” I don’t even know what I’m saying, nor do I care because right now her tongue is in my mouth and she’s about to show me her bra…where her tits are. She sits back, watching me as she unbuttons two more buttons of her shirt. Her face is flushed and her breathing is heavy. I can see most of her bra now. She was right. It’s pink with white lace around the edges. I swallow hard because what I want to do is reach out and grab her tits and hold them for dear life, but I’m not sure that’s what she wants.

“It’s beautiful, Emily,” I choke out before clearing my throat. “Your…”

I can’t call them tits. That’s not nice.

“Your breasts are…so pretty.”

“They would be prettier in your hands,” she replies. “Don’t you want to touch them?”

I nod quickly, like a lame little boy in a candy shop. “Very much.” Emily stands up from the couch and for a minute my eyes grow large because I think she’s about to take me to her bedroom, but she doesn’t. Instead she straddles my legs and sits on my lap facing me, so that her beautiful breasts, in her beautiful bra, are staring right at me. She grabs my hands and places them on each of her breasts.

Good God, I’m hard, and she’s sitting right on me.

There is a girl on my dick.

There is a vagina on my dick. Well, okay maybe with four degrees of separation between us, but still. I’ve never had a vagina this close to my dick before. It’s making me feel very…sweaty.

“Emily…” I whisper.

“Mmm,” she responds. “I like that, Jack. Your hands feel good.”

Oh, my God.

“Emily…” I say a little harder, wincing as she starts to move against me.

Humping.

We’re humping.

Our clothes are still on but holy hell she’s humping me and I can’t…

“Emily…”

“Yes Jack! Squeeze them a little. It’s okay. They won’t break. Squeeze them right in the middle.” She starts to move faster on me and it’s all I can do to not lose control of myself. I close my eyes and hold my breath in hopes that I can do this, but I…just…can’t.

“Hmmmph….” The sound comes from me as I push my pelvis forward more out of reflex than anything else.

Good God, I just came in my pants.

Do I tell her?

Does she know?

“Emily, baby! We’re home!” The front door opens and closes and like the Flash, Emily is off me and across the room before I can even let out my breath. She hastily rebuttons her shirt and fixes her hair like nothing happened. Shit. I have jizz in my pants and I have to make conversation with Emily’s parents, but she can act like nothing fucking happened? I can’t even move off the couch for fear that hot sticky goop is going to run down my leg or even worse, create an extreme wet spot that will reveal all of my secrets.

Maybe I should just stay here and put a pillow over my lap.

That’s stupid, Schmidt. Her dad would see that a mile away.

Maybe I could make it to the restroom before they come up the steps. I lean back on the couch and try to quickly calculate how fast I could run to the bathroom without them noticing me.

Don’t even think about it, Jack. They’ll definitely notice.

“Untuck your shirt.” Emily whispers from across the room. She waves the bottom of her shirt to me to show me what she’s saying in case I couldn’t hear her.

She knows.

She knows I came in my pants and there’s nothing I can do about it right now. I don’t know why I didn’t think about untucking my shirt, but right now I’m singing Emily’s praises for showing me a way out. As her parents are climbing the stairs I shoot off the couch and rip my shirt from the waistband of my jeans and smooth it out over the front of me just as her parents reach the last step on the landing.

“Hey, Jack!” Mr. Wittmer exclaims. “It’s so good to see you again!” He reaches his hand forward to shake mine.

I’m shaking the hand of Emily’s father and I have jizz in my pants.

“Likewise, Sir,” I respond. “Did you guys have a good evening?”

It’s warm in my crotch.

“Oh, it was splendid!” Mrs. Wittmer replies, smiling. “Those Malloys definitely know how to throw a benefit dinner. Oh, and the food! I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything so good.”

“I don’t know.” Mr. Wittmer shrugs. “My rice was a little sticky.” He turns to wink at me and I damn near choke.

Because my pants are a little sticky.

“Mom, Dad, Jack was just getting ready to leave. He has to be home by ten forty-five and I don’t want him to have to speed.” Emily comes to my rescue as she walks up beside me.

“Oh. Absolutely. We wouldn’t want that either.” Mrs. Wittmer agrees. “It was great to see you, Jack. Do come again.”

Oh, I don’t think that will be a problem.

“Thanks Mr. and Mrs. Wittmer. I promise to be careful. I’m glad you had a good evening.” I turn towards the door, blowing out a huge breath of air once I’m out of their eyesight. Emily follows me down the steps – hopefully hiding the fact that I’m semi waddling because, Jizz-pants - and to the front door. I turn quickly and kiss her cheek. “Thanks for tonight.” I tell her.

“Thanks for coming.” She bites her lip, knowing all too well what she just said.

“For you? Any time,” I confirm. “I’ll call you tomorrow.” As I head for my car Emily calls my name again.

“Hey Jack?”

I stop next to my car. “Yeah?”

“Sorry about the mess.” She whispers loudly enough for me to hear her, winks and blows me a kiss before waving goodbye and backing up through her front door. All I can do is laugh and shake my head at the absurdity that was my first semi-sexual experience.

Little did I know at the time, that this was how it would always be with Emily. She was only ever into dry-humping…which for me, was anything but dry.

2016

“Yeah no way am I telling her that one.” I mumble shaking my head at one of my most embarrassing high school memories.

Jax: When I was in college, we had a well-known politician give a speech to our poli-sci class. I thought he was a douche and hated everything he stood for. So, at the end of the class we all lined up to shake his hand and thank him for coming. I made sure to lick the hell out of my hand first.

NoRagrets: Ha! Well I guess you have a bad-boy side to you after all! No Ragrets huh?

Jax: Not even one! Tit for tat, pretty lady. What do you have to say for yourself?

NoRagrets: Middle school gym class fitness test. I wasn’t in the best of shape but we were doing sit-ups with a partner holding our feet. Because I wasn’t very good at them, I was really straining to do those sit ups. On my third one I totally farted right in my partner’s face. Luckily, she was a nice girl and laughed it off, but I will never forget how mortified I was.

Jax: That’s fantastic!

NoRagrets: Here’s a fun fact, did you know people who are comfortable farting in front of one another will have a longer-lasting relationship?

She was right. Completely unfiltered. I like it. Please tell me that she’s telling me this because she’s interested in a nice lengthy relationship. She’s a breath of fresh air for once. Down to earth and normal. I would love to get to know this girl.

Jax: Is that a threat, or a promise?

NoRagrets: Haha! I guess we’ll see. So, is your name Jax or do you have a different name?

Jax: Jack. My name is Jack.

NoRagrets: It’s nice to meet you, Jack. My name is Linda.

CHAPTER FIVE

JACK

When I was working my way through law school, I had visions of myself being the prosecutor of a major trial one day: standing in front of a witness and hearing “You can’t handle the truth!” just like we hear it in the movies, or on our favorite courtroom television shows. Maybe that dream would’ve become a reality had I taken the offers I received from New York City, but here in Mystic, Connecticut, my days are filled with enough work to keep me busy from sun up to sun down, and often drain me emotionally by the end of the day. Child Advocacy law is a hard job. I chose that type of law to be a voice for kids like me who never had one growing up. Many days I speak for a child who is the ‘monkey in the middle’ of a bitter custody dispute. It’s my job to make sure those defenseless children get treated fairly, even when both sides are screaming obscenities at each other. The sad truth is, nobody wins in those cases. Everybody loses. That’s what happened today.

The downside to my job is that there are many days I don’t get to come home in a great mood. More often than not, I pull into my parking spot, like I am today, feeling like I failed the one little human who was counting on me. But I can’t make parents love each other. I can’t make them stay together – usually, it’s a not a good idea anyway. All I can do is explain shared custody to the kid, what that means for him or her, and that regardless of what’s happening around them, it’s never the kid’s fault. It’s a draining job, but my aim is to make sure those kids feel like someone in this world cares about them.

“Sampson!” I greet my favorite four-legged friend as he wags his tail for me when I open my apartment door. “How are you, buddy? Did you have a good day? Yeah? Let’s go outside. Come on.” I grab the leash hanging by the door and hook it on to Sampson’s collar and then lead him outside for a short walk. This is my favorite time of the day. Just me and man’s best friend, soaking in the outside air together after a long day. It’s too bad though that fall means it’s dark when I get home. It may only be going on six o’clock, but the dark makes me feel like it’s time for bed. Regardless, I take Sampson back upstairs and feed him and then get myself ready to go let off some steam in the gym downstairs. A workout and a nice shower will help me feel better.

And then maybe Linda will be around…

It doesn’t take long before I’m a sweaty mess running my fifth mile on the treadmill. It’s not very often I have the gym to myself, but on rare occasions like this, I take full advantage and use the time to run in silence so I can think about the day’s happenings. With any luck, I can run off my pent-up frustrations. As I hit my fourth mile, the door to the gym creaks opens and in walks Gabby Garette, the woman in apartment 4-C, that everyone in this building seems to know. She’s built like a damn Barbie doll, and she knows it. I really don’t know all that much about her other than that she’s supposedly an accountant who works from home…whatever that means. What I do know is that I see her come and go with several men around here, and usually I never see the same one twice.

“Hey Jack.” Gabby smiles brightly as she enters the gym.

“Gabby. How are you?” I huff as I continue to run, wishing now that I had put my earbuds in.

“Oh, I’m great. I’m just meeting someone here to go over a few yoga moves.” She unabashedly pulls off her long sleeved-shirt to reveal a skimpy pink sports bra. “Don’t let me distract you from your workout.” She bats her eyelashes and watches me like I’m supposed to act like one of those cartoon characters whose eyes bulge out of their sockets and their jaw drops to the floor. “I’m just going to do some stretches over here.” She explains, pointing to the far corner of the room.

Meeting someone for yoga? She doesn’t have to say ‘someone’. What she really means is a man, and I don’t know many men around here who actively practice yoga. I suppose as long as she’s bending over for them, some guys would be willing to practice anything. I don’t know what it is about her…maybe she’s too pretty, if that’s a thing…but she seems like a walking turn-off to me. I don’t want to get anywhere close to that. In fact, I decide to begin slowing down my run so I can just get the hell out of here. Almost five miles is enough for one night. I can do my crunches upstairs.

There hasn’t been a message from Linda all day. I don’t really know if I should be reading into that or not, but since our conversation was going so well the other day, I decide to take a stab at it again.

Jax: Why do you suppose they double bag raisin bread, but not regular bread?

I hit the submit button and shuffle to the kitchen to grab something to eat. A turkey sandwich it is, again, since I’m too lazy to try to cook something for myself. I’m pretty sure Sampson eats better than I do these days. I’ve done a good job of talking myself out of cooking most nights because, well, when you’re only cooking for one, why bother getting fancy? To my surprise, by the time I’m finished making my sandwich and pouring myself an iced-tea, my laptop dings with an incoming message.

NoRagrets: LOL! Ummm…. is it a deal breaker if I don’t have an answer? That’s definitely a very good question. I might be forced to Google it.

Jax: Hahaha that’s ok. It’s just one of those questions I tend to come up with when it’s quiet around here and I don’t feel like working.

NoRagrets: Long day?

Jax: You could say that. Frustrating mostly. Shit happens.

NoRagrets: Do you want to talk about it? I’m good for venting.

Jax: Not particularly. It’s everyday work for me. But I DO enjoy chatting with you.

NoRagrets: I understand. Oddly enough, I enjoy chatting with you too. So, let’s get your mind off work. Here’s something to ponder. Why do they call those little candy bars “Fun size”? Isn’t it more fun to eat the big ones?

Jax: “Oddly enough?” Hahaha! Am I that bad? That is an excellent question by the way. Those damn fun size are more like bite size! And that’s no fun at all!

NoRagrets: Sorry, no. Not bad at all. I just didn’t think this online thing would be my kind of thing.

Jax: Agree with you there. So, tell me something about you that not many people would know.

NoRagrets: Umm…I collect narwhals.

Jax: Narwhals?

NoRagrets: Yeah. Unicorns of the sea!!! Narwhals. You know what a narwhal is right? They’re like whales but with unicorn horns.

Jax: LoL! Yeah, I know what a narwhal is. What attracts you to a narwhal? Also, I’m pretty sure their horns are not beautiful and sparkly like a unicorn’s. ;)

NoRagrets: Ummm…I guess I don’t have an answer for that other than they’re unique creatures and I find them fascinating. And their horns should be sparkly. That would totally up their cool factor. Do you collect anything?

Jax: I mean, if dust bunnies under my dresser counts then yes. Yes, I do.

NoRagrets: Haha! Well you better keep an eye on those pesky things. They get wild and crazy if left unattended.

Jax: Haha! Definitely noted. *writes down reminder to clean under dresser before ever inviting Linda.*

NoRagrets: Meh. Who needs a clean house? Just watch an episode or two of Hoarders and I guarantee your place will look great!

Jax: Oh, is that your routine?

NoRagrets: Me? Nah. My cleaning ritual is to just drink wine and spray everything with Febreeze. ☺

Jax: LMAO! Perfect plan. I may just try that.

NoRagrets: Yes, after you’re done safety pinning your socks together…

Jax: Ooh, touché. Is Hoarders a favorite TV show of yours?

NoRagrets: HAHA! No. Actually, I think I’ve only ever seen one or two episodes. Once you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all, right?

Jax: Well, some have more cat shit than others, but yeah pretty much. Do you have a favorite show?

NoRagrets: Well, I can tell you what I’m NOT. I’m not a Bachelor or Bachelorette type of girl! Those shitty roses mean nothing and very rarely do those couples even stay together. It’s so ridiculous. *insert eye roll here*

Jax: I can tell you with one hundred percent honesty that I’ve never watched either of those. Getting to really know someone is hard enough without parading everyone in front of television camera.

NoRagrets: Tell me about it. I’m an Agents of Shield girl any day! I like action or humor.

Jax: Alright, here’s a question then: What television character do you identify with the most?

NoRagrets: Easy. Lily Aldrin from How I Met Your Mother.

Jax: LOL! Love that show! Can never get enough of Neil Patrick Harris!

NoRagrets: Agreed. People say I look like Alyson Hannigan. She’s kind of my spirit animal. But not like, American Pie Alyson. Just H.I.M.Y.M Alyson.

Jax: Phew! Thought we were going to have a conversation about band camp.

Her end goes silent for a few minutes and I sit at my computer wondering what she’s up to. Is she sitting on the other end trying to think of something to say? Is she multitasking as she talks to me? Maybe she’s painting her toes. Maybe she just went to get a drink. I stand up and grab my glass so I can also grab a refill when I my computer dings with another incoming message.

Want2meet: Hey good lookin’. Want to play?

“What the hell?” I frown in confusion as I lean in closer to the screen. The message obviously isn’t from Linda. Am I really seeing what I think I’m seeing? Want2meet, whoever this is, is way too forward for anyone I want to associate myself with. “Is that a vag pic?” I ask out loud to nobody. I can’t decide if I should write her back or just ignore her. Maybe Linda can give me her thoughts.

Jax: Hey Linda, Uh…haha I have a question.

NoRagrets: Oh no, why do I feel like this might not be good? ☺

Jax: Well….um…so I just got another private message from some other female…that includes a picture.

NoRagrets: Ok…

Jax: Pretty sure it’s a vag pic

NoRagrets: OMG! You got a vag pic? Do girls really do that? PLEASE SAY NO!

Jax: Uh…no…yes…I…guess so? I don’t know! This is the first time it’s happened to me.

NoRagrets: That’s so gross! I wouldn’t even send one of those to someone I was seeing! There’s nothing cute about a vagina! And who wants that shit floating around the internet? What did you say? (not that you have to tell me because you don’t)

Jax: I haven’t said anything yet, because what the hell do you say to a vag pic? Should I be flattered? Haha!

NoRagrets: Ummm I mean, if you want to be flattered go for it, but I’m about 97% certain that she sent that pic to more than just one guy. You’re probably supposed to send a dick pic back to her. You up for that? (Pun...maybe intended?)

Jax: *blocks creepy vagina girl* Phew!

NoRagrets: Do you need a different kind of pic to get your mind off of the ugly vag?

Jax: Maybe. Do you have something in mind?

NoRagrets: Yeah. I do. Hahaha! Are you ready?

Jax: Oh, God. I don’t know…am I?

My nerves are suddenly going haywire not knowing what kind of picture she’s about to send. I hate to be the guy who doesn’t want a picture of a boob or a vagina, but her sending one would put her in the same category as all the other weirdos out there. I don’t want her to be classified in that group of women. I kind of like talking to her.

NoRagrets: Ok here they come.

I wait a few seconds for something to appear and when they do, I let out a sigh of relief. One is a picture of the back of someone’s hair colored a nice shade of purple. The other is a woman whose hair is deep red. Both are eccentric, but tastefully nice.

NoRagrets: I can’t choose a hair color.

Jax: Hmm…both are nice, but I like the red one the best.

NoRagrets: Ok. Maybe I’ll give it a shot. It’s just hair, right?

Jax: I admire a girl who isn’t so particular about her hair. Good for you.

NoRagrets: You only live once, right?

Jax: Absolutely. Be bold. Take chances!

NoRagrets: Lol. Is that your mantra?

Jax: Ha! No. My mantra is Nothing changes if nothing changes.

NoRagrets: Are you trying to change something?

Jax: Maybe? We’ll see.

NoRagrets: Hmm. Want to know my mantra?

Jax: Sure.

NoRagrets: Inhale Tacos. Exhale Negativity. Namaste.

Jax: LOL! That’s excellent. And I think I need to change my mantra. I like yours way better!

NoRagrets: Well my friend, if nothing changes, nothing changes. So, change away ;)

Jax: Hahaha Amen!

NoRagrets: Talking to you is fun. Sometimes I feel like you’re sitting right here next to me.

Jax: Someday Maybe.

NoRagrets: Yeah. Someday…but I should call it a night. I have the open shift in the morning which means getting up at the ass crack of dawn.

Jax: I feel for you. Sweet dreams Linda.

NoRagrets: Sweet dreams Jack.

CHAPTER SIX

LINDA

Sometimes I wonder who on earth would need to enter The Hole Punch at seven-thirty in the morning. It’s either a college student rushing to get their latest report printed and bound for a deadline, or a corporate world yuppie coming in to place an order for more office chairs or if we’re lucky, a whole shit ton of laptops, all with service plans which yield us the most profit. So, no matter who walks in that early in the morning it’s usually to make someone’s mistake our emergency. There’s not enough coffee in the world to make me want to deal with those people. But there is enough coffee at Rise and Grind, the coffee shop right across the parking lot from our store, which is where I’ve just come from.

“Anyone know where Kyle is?” I ask over my headset a half hour later.

“Uh, yeah I’m pretty sure he’s going to be late,” Eric replies.

“What? Why? He never called in.” I point out.

“I imagine he’s hung over as shit.” Eric says. “He was out late last night partying for some kid’s twenty-first birthday. I saw him around nine and he was still partying when I left at eleven.”

“Great.” I scoff. “Wait till he gets his ass in this building. I’ll make him rue the day he ever partied that late before an early morning shift.”

Gah! Why do these associates have to be such asshats all the damn time? Why can’t they just be responsible working adults who come to work, do their job, go home, eat, sleep, and repeat? Sure, I’ve been known to party it up just like anyone else. Hell, I’ve even woken up in the bed of the previous one night’s stand, but I’ve still made it to work on time.

“Alright, let’s get started on the freight. Jenna will be here in a few hours and she’ll want numbers.”

An hour goes by before Kyle walks into the store looking like the newest extra cast on The Walking Dead. I watch him put his headset on from inside the office and turn it on. It’s then that I shout, “GOOD MORNING KYLE!” as loud as I can, causing him to react like a cat falling off the kitchen counter. I watch as he looks around for me, but can’t find me. He ducks his head and walks toward the office supply side of the store.

“Not so fast, Asshat,” I call to him, praying there aren’t customers around who may have heard that. Last I checked, there were no cars in the parking lot. “Where the hell have you been, Kyle?”

Kyle’s eyes are barely open. A tell-tale sign that he’s got himself a nice big headache. “I was sick.”

“Sick huh?” I repeat, patting him strongly on the back. “Did you worship the porcelain throne this morning?”

Kyle nods his head slowly. “More than once and maybe from more than one end.”

“Oh, that’s TMI Kyle. I didn’t need to know that, but that’s what happens when you spend the night throwing back shots of tequila for someone’s birthday.”

“It wasn’t tequila and it was his twenty-first…”

“Was it your twenty-first birthday, Kyle?” I interrupt him.

“No.”

“No. It wasn’t, because you’re almost thirty, Kyle.”

“I’m twenty-six.” He corrects me.

“That’s right. And twenty-six rounds up to thirty, Kyle. So, let’s just say you’re almost thirty. Definitely old enough to know that you have responsibilities early in the morning.”

“Yeah. I hear you. I’m sorry I was late.”

“Not only are you late, you’re hung over. And you know what that means, Kyle?”

“What?”

“It means I can’t put you in front of customers right now because I can’t have you falling asleep on them or vomiting on my nice clean carpets. So, guess what, Kyle? You get to spend the morning putting away freight in the back.”

“Okay,” he says, quietly nodding.

“And if I were you, I would think long and hard before coming to work hung over again,” I admonish him as I watch him walk away. I then head back to the office mumbling to myself.

“Good Lord, how is it that people can’t just do their jobs around here in a responsible and respectable way?”

“What are you bitchin’ about now?” I walk into the office and am surprised to see Jenna hanging up her coat.

“Hey biotch! What are you doing here so early? I thought you weren’t coming in until noon?”

“I couldn’t look at fabric anymore. I’m driving myself crazy at home getting ready for this bridal show and Jacoby had work to do so I just came in early. Why…do you want me to leave?” She chides.

“Ha! Hell no, you’re not leaving now! I have an extremely hungover and probably nauseous asshat in the back working on freight so feel free to show him how much it sucks to be hungover at work.” I wink and step out to answer her ringing phone at the tech desk.

“Thank you for calling The Hole Punch, this is Linda speaking, how may I help you?”

“Linda?” A hushed voice says on the other end of the line.

“Yes.” I want to answer back in a whisper just to be a jerk, but I don’t.

“It’s Larry. Is anybody listening to this call?” I roll my eyes and mentally kick myself for even picking up the phone. Larry Seymore calls here no less than three times a week thinking there is something wrong with his computer. And while there may or may not be something wrong with it, regardless of the issue, it’s always a government conspiracy in Mr. Seymore’s mind. He’s convinced he’s being watched by secret agents at all hours of the day. It’s humorous…and sad at the same time.

“Uh, I don’t think so Mr. Seymore. What can I do for you today?” I speak up and stretch my neck back toward the office so Jenna knows who I’m talking to. I laugh as she jumps up from the desk, waving her hands back and forth in front of her and shaking her head, no. She hates having to talk to Larry Seymore. I try to get her on the phone with him almost every time he calls.

“Listen, Linda. I was checking my email this morning when a light flashed on my computer and I’m telling you, someone is watching. I’ve already put duct tape over the camera so nobody can watch me through there, but I think something is wrong with my computer.”

“Why would you think that? Did something happen?” I ask him, smirking and wondering how I’m going to get Jenna on the phone with him.

“Those fucking dickheads messed with my computer for the last time, I tell you! The LAST TIME! They make me so fucking mad!”

And I thought I swore like a sailor.

He’s the only customer I’ve known who swears this much in a conversation with us. Geesh!.

“Mr. Seymore, if you live by yourself, then there’s no way anyone else can mess with your computer, unless you don’t have it hooked up to a secure network. Do you have a secure network?”

“I sure do, of course! But it’s those government pigs we’re talking about! Hackers! They can get into anybody’s life through their technology! Their computers, their phones, man, I’m glad I don’t have a fucking pace maker because I’m pretty sure they could fuck with those too!”

“Yes, perhaps you’re right. Listen, if you give me just a minute, I think I can find someone who can help you, okay? Let me put you on hold for just a moment.”

“Okay, but if I start to hear the voices on the other end, I’m going to hang up and you can call me back,” he tells me.

“Okay Mr. Seymore. Be right back.” I put him on hold and hang up the phone and then quietly walk to the center of the store where the customer service desk is.

“Gina, can you do me a favor?” I ask, unable to wipe the devilish grin off my face.

“Sure. What’s up?”

“I’m going to walk toward the back of the store. Give me about forty-five seconds and then call for Jenna and tell her there’s a call for her on line three.”

“Uh, okay,” Gina says, cocking her head and wondering what I’m up to. She’s not privy to the pranks I like to play on Jenna, but this one will be good. She’ll hate me for the rest of the day but she’ll get over it. She loves me too much.

NoRagrets: I mean, I know I work in a retail establishment but how the hell does someone come to work extremely hung over and think that that’s acceptable?

Jax: Uh oh. Bad day?

NoRagrets: Actually, it wasn’t all that bad, but man I work with a few idiots. One of our associates was out partying late last night for a twenty-first birthday party.

Jax: Say no more. I can imagine the scene.

NoRagrets: Yeah. So, between him and the old senile guy who calls us regularly, thinking he’s the victim of an insane government conspiracy, it’s been a day.

Jax: Never a dull moment though, eh?

NoRagrets: Yeah you could say that! Maybe I shouldn’t judge. I can’t even remember my twenty first birthday. I’m pretty sure I drank the entire day away. How about you?

Jax: Uh, let’s just say it was a memorable day.

NoRagrets: LOL! Sounds like a good story there…or a really bad one!

Jax: Yeah…definitely a story. Someday maybe I’ll share all the memorable details.

CHAPTER SEVEN

JACK - 2010

“Happy Birthday big man!”

“Happy Birthday Jack!”

“Hey Schmidt Stain! Happy twenty-one, man!”

“Twenty-one? Watch out!”

Those are all the greetings I get as I walk through the Political Science building today. It’s been a crazy day so far. I’ve never really been much for partying and I’m not great at accepting attention for any reason other than to win some sort of academic award, so in a way, this day has been a hard one for me. Mom and Dad have already called to wish me a happy birthday. Mom of course told me to just be careful, but Dad felt the need to remind me not to do anything stupid that could damage my academic career. I’ve never given him any reason to think I would do otherwise. Maybe it’s just a dad’s right of passage to warn his child not to go nuts on his twenty-first birthday.

“Jack! Wait up!” Jacoby calls out, jogging down the hallway. When he catches up to me he wraps his arm around my shoulder and asks, “You ready for tonight?”

“What’s tonight?” Please tell me he didn’t plan a major keg party for tonight or something. He knows that isn’t me.

“Your birthday party, Schmidt Stain! Or have you forgotten?” He laughs.

“Jacoby, I promised my parents I wouldn’t do anything stupid. I don’t need to get shit-faced and…”

“No, no, no, Jack. Don’t worry about that. Can you have a drink or two? Yes! But I promise, this will be better than that. Tonight, my friend…” Jacoby holds his arms out wide. “You have a date with Destiny!” He winks and walks off to his next class leaving me confused, and if I’m being honest, a tiny bit scared for my life.

“Do I seriously have to be blind-folded for this?” I ask the guys when I get in the car. None of them will tell me where we’re going, which can only mean one thing. Wherever it is, it’s not somewhere I’ve ever been, and most likely would never go on my own.

“Yes, Schmidt Stain! Don’t get your panties in a twist, man, we’ll be there before you know it. Just sit tight.” Devin instructs as he starts the car. His Jeep Liberty is packed full of five college fraternity guys, myself included. Where I am the studious know-it-all of the group who tries to be in bed by midnight and up by seven, Devin is the extreme opposite. He is the frat’s party animal extraordinaire. To be honest, I can’t believe Jacoby even consented to him coming along knowing the kind of guy I am, but I trust Jacoby with my life, so I’m trying to remain calm and take this celebration in stride. A guy only turns twenty-one once.

Less than fifteen minutes goes by before the car comes to a stop and I hear the doors open. When I slide out of the car, Jacoby grabs my shoulder to lead me where I’m supposed to go. “Dude, where are we?” I whisper to him, hoping he’ll just tell me.

“Date with Destiny, dude.” Jacoby chuckles beside me. “I told you. Don’t worry…this will be like nothing you’ve ever experienced. Now watch your step.”

The ground changes beneath my feet from a gravel parking lot to solid flooring, so I know we’ve stepped inside a building. If that didn’t tell me, the thumping music and overwhelming smell of sweat, beer, and flowery lotion sure does.

“Shit. That smell could knock a man on his ass. Where the hell are we?” I ask to anyone listening.

“Just one more minute, Schmidty. Let’s find a seat first.” Devin says. Jacoby starts to move behind me so I know I need to walk forward. He guides me across the room and tells me to sit in the chair he puts my hand on. Once I’m seated he unties my blindfold, allowing me to see the cluster-fuck of glitter, neon lights, shimmery walls and…poles. Poles on a stage.

“No way.” I say shaking my head and starting to stand up. “You guys have to be kidding me.” Jacoby grabs my shoulders and pushes me back into my chair, laughing with the other guys.

“Come on, Jack. Live a little! Nothing here is going to hurt you! It’s your twenty-first birthday, man!” Jacoby smiles. “I promised your old man I would help you celebrate, and make sure nothing bad happened to you, so…you’re welcome.” He nods as if I’m supposed to appreciate this gift.

“The Sweetarts Lounge? Really? You thought this was the best idea?” I ask him.

Jacoby’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, Jack…you just wait. I told you…date with Destiny. Trust me Bro.” He winks. “I’ll get you a beer.”

“Just one!” I shout over my shoulder as he heads for the bar. The rest of the guys laugh and pat my back as I shake my head, unable to believe I’m even sitting here right now.

***

No less than six beers later, my twenty-first birthday is maybe the best night of my life so far.

“Did you see that girl?” I shout across the table to all the guys seated with me. Each of us, Jacoby not included since he promised to be the designated driver, has had plenty to drink and are immensely enjoying the show.

“Those were some Schmidty-titties, eh Jack?” Devin howls.

“Phew. I could bury my face in those and not come up for hours!” I exclaim to a table of laughter.

“Gentlemen,” A man standing on the stage in black pants and a purple polo shirt announces. “Do we have a surprise for you!” The crowd in the room starts to holler and cheer. Obviously, there are regulars here who know what’s coming, but me? Not a clue. I cheer anyway, because fuck it. It’s my birthday. “Our last dance of the night is a verrrrrry special one.” The man says to another eruption of cheers.

“Someone here is about to get the treat of a lifetime, the answer to his prayers, his date with Destiny!”

Date with Destiny.

I’ve heard those words before. Several times. From Jacoby’s mouth. I don’t even have time to turn my head in his direction before I hear my name being called.

“Jack Schmidt! Where are you, birthday boy?” The announcer calls out. All the guys at my table immediately start shouting and cheering and pointing to me, tugging at my arm so that I stand up.

“Get up here, Jack. We have a special birthday surprise for you!” When I stand up, I look around for the easiest path to the stage. The tables are close together and people seem to be everywhere…and I might be a little inebriated. Regardless of a few small stumbles, I weave my way through just a few tables to where the announcer is standing.

“Happy Birthay, Jack!” The man exclaims to a cheering crowd.

“Thank you,” I reply, slightly embarrassed, but still smiling.

“Are you ready for your date with Destiny?” The man asks. The crowd cheers even louder and before I can reply, the crowd is chanting “DES-TIN-Y…DES-TIN-Y…DES-TIN-Y…” The lights go out suddenly except for one spot light above me on the stage. I have no idea what’s going on, but the cheering erupts into a thunderous uproar when the announcer says, “Dancing to “Nasty Naughty Boy” by Christina Aguilera, give it up for DESTINY DRAKE!!!”

Music starts to play as a chair is pushed into the back of my legs. When I sit down, the spot light moves behind me, highlighting a sparkling, bikini-clad, breathtaking woman who has eyes only for me. My body temperature rises as she steps in her dangerously high heels around to the front of the stage, eyeing me with every step she takes. With a devilish smile, she moves to the music, her body expertly wrapping around the silver pole in front of me.

Holy hell.

Transfixed by the idea of her flexibility, my body unconsciously tries to react. I catch myself squirming in my chair practically drooling over her every move, but she has no part of it. Hanging on to the pole with just her legs, she arches back enough to reach out and push on my chest playfully with her hand. I fall back into my seat, allowing my jaw to practically hit the floor as I admire all that is Destiny Drake. Her long, lean legs, her sexy-as-hell curves that are only partly covered by an extremely thin piece of material; even wildly inebriated I can’t miss how hot she is.

I’m the luckiest guy in the world right now.

As the music continues above the constant cheers from all the men in the crowd, her eyes continue to penetrate mine, tempting me with every slide of her arm up her body. I don’t even have to look down to know that I’m as hard as a damn rock right now.

Destiny wraps herself around the pole a few more times before turning herself upside down and opening her legs so that she is spread-eagle against the pole. As if that strength isn’t impressive enough, and hot as fucking hell, she stretches her body as she comes off the pole so that her legs move from her spread-eagle position to straddling my lap.

Oh, my God, this is happening.

Sitting astride me, she tilts her pelvis toward me, connecting our bodies together and sliding her voluptuous inviting breasts up my torso until my face is practically buried in her chest. It takes all the control I have to not lick the skin that is right in front of me, but I fear if I do, the firework in my pants may explode. I catch Destiny’s eye just as she winks at me before bending her body completely over in a back bend over my lap.

Breathe Schmidt. Breathe.

Oh, God what is she doing?

My eyes grow huge as Destiny places her hands on the ground in front of her and raises her legs above my head. She wraps them around my neck, clenching my head between her warm soft thighs. Before I can move, she kicks her legs over me and lowers herself into a full split on the ground in front of me. The crowd goes wild as she finishes her routine and then takes my hand, encouraging me to get up and follow her off stage.

“Where are we going?” I try to ask quietly as we both exit the stage, but in state of inebriation I’m in, I’m sure I’m anything but quiet. She pulls me, stumbling, back stage and into a room filled with bright colorful costumes, wigs, shoes, and props. “Is this your dressing room?”

“Your friends paid for the VIP treatment, birthday boy.” She smiles as she closes the door behind her and locks the deadbolt. “So, what’ll it be?”

“Umm…I don’t…what will what be?” I think this is one of those times where I wish I wouldn’t have had so much to drink. My body wants to respond to the pretty girl in sparkles, but my mind is fuzzy as hell. I don’t even know what to say to her.

“Take off my top.” She whispers, pressing herself into me. “Just rip it. I have hundreds.”

“Wait…what?”

“Alright, if you insist. I’ll take it off myself,” she says as she unclips her bikini top, letting the silver sparkled garment fall to the floor.

Holy Balls!

She took off her top.

“Uhhh.” I can’t help but wonder if my drunk ass is being punked right now. Quickly, I survey the room for evidence of my being watched. I don’t know what the hell I would be looking for, but I look everywhere except at Destiny’s beautifully bulbous breasts.

“Don’t worry, Darlin,” she whispers. “There ain’t nobody here but me and you. Now don’t you want to touch them? They’re real as real can be, you know.”

Clearing my throat, somewhere I find the sense to say, “I probably shouldn’t…” but my words aren’t taken very seriously. Destiny guides me to the black couch along the wall and pushes me gently until I’m seated. Surprisingly the couch is comfortable and for a second I think about closing my eyes…except who the hell would close their eyes when breasts like this are staring at you? Destiny straddles my lap and helps to lift my shirt over my head. I have absolutely zero idea where this is going. I feel like I’m one of those people with the angel personality hanging out on one shoulder saying, “No, don’t do it,” and the devil personality hanging on the other shoulder saying, “It’s your birthday, man! What harm can it do? She wants you. She’s asking for you!”

When you’re drunk…the devil almost always wins.

“But it’s your birthday,” Destiny frowns, kissing the side of my neck. “A guy only turns twenty-one once…and your friends were so…thoughtful.”

“Yeah…” My breathing is heavy, because holy shit there’s a beautiful woman sitting on my lap not wearing a damn shirt. “So thoughtful.”

“Touch me,” she whispers in my ear, as she helps lift my hands to her chest. At this point I decide to flick that little angel dude off my shoulder and have a little birthday fun. After all, it’s not like I’ll ever do anything like this again anyway. My hands squeeze her supple skin, making her moan with pleasure and writhe on my lap. In this moment, and regardless of all my past experiences so far, I’ve never wanted to not be wearing pants so badly in my life. Jeans can be hella-constricting. Hearing her moan and feeling her body rocking against mine is causing a sensation I haven’t felt in a long time.

Maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe I just don’t give a damn, but a rush of bravery comes over me and I lean down to put her nipple in my mouth, sucking, toying, nipping.

“Ahhh.” Destiny cries. “Yesss.”

I don’t know what encourages me to do it, but I open my eyes and look up at her, with her nipple in my mouth. She is breathtaking when she throws her head back in ecstasy, and sexy as hell when she watches me suck her. She grabs my face and kisses me hungrily, as if I’m the only meal she’ll eat for days. “I can feel you through your pants,” she says in between kisses.

“You…make me feel so...” is all I can say, all I want to say to her. I would be the happiest man on this earth right now if I could just keep her tits in my hands and her mouth on mine for the rest of the night.

“Touch me, Jack. Touch me while I kiss you.” She pants as she begins to thrust against me, increasing the friction between our bodies. With each rock, back and forth against me, her tongue sweeps against mine. She tastes like sweet strawberries. In the build-up of euphoria my body begins to respond to hers and I groan in the pleasure of her tongue colliding with mine, her body touching mine.

“Destiny,” I whisper when she throws her head back again, her body still thrusting against mine. I want this girl. I want this girl badly.

“Yes, Jack! Yes! Oh, my God, keep going. Squeeze me, Jack. Harder! HARDER!” She gasps. I grab her breasts and pinch her nipples, rolling them between her fingers, meeting her dry hump for dry hump knowing at some point, I won’t be able to last much longer and I’ll have a mess in my pants. At this point though, I’m willing to take all I can get.

“YESSSSSS!” She screams as she comes apart, throwing her arms around me, nuzzling my neck.

“Destiny.” I hiss, trying to control the urge to come while she’s sitting on me.

“I know. I owe you.” She breathes and then shimmies down off my lap until she’s kneeling on the floor in front of me.

Oh God.

Is she…?

Looking up at me with her sexy tired eyes she reaches up to find the zipper of my pants. Reminding myself to breathe I lower myself on the couch a bit to give her easier access. She lowers my pants just enough to have full access to the part of me she was looking for. The part of me that wants to celebrate so badly he would do just about anything.

“Yesssss.” I hiss when she wraps her hand around me, squeezing me tightly. Tonight, at the sad age of twenty-one, a girl is physically touching my penis for the first time. I want to lay my head back and enjoy every second of this penile bliss, but I can feel my body wanting to come undone and fuck if I don’t want to see, with my own eyes, what this beautiful, sexy girl is going to do to me.

I watch as she reaches for a bottle of lotion. She squirts some into her hand and looks up at me again. “You are about to taste like hot buttered rum,” she says. “My favorite.” She licks her lips and runs her hand up and down my length, spreading what must be a flavored lube all around me. I gasp as a cool sensation spreads at her touch, and hold my breath for what she might do next.

She’s going to do it.

Breathe.

Shit.

Breathe Jack. You got this.

Oh, my God, she’s really going to do it.

My very first blow job.

My body temperature reaches fever level as I watch her mouth get closer and closer to my penis. The anticipation is madness, but it doesn’t last long. Her mouth slowly covers me, inch by inch, until she has almost all of me inside of her mouth.

“Oooohhhhh.” Is this what it feels like to be in a woman? The feeling. The rush. The pleasure. “Destiny…” I growl, trying to keep myself under control. My breathing picks up and I can feel the sweat forming across my forehead.

She begins to hum as she pulls up, slowly causing my entire body to tremble. “Des…tiny….” She takes one more look at me and flicks the end of me with her tongue, shocking me with a jolt of pleasure that throws me over the line of control. Like she just lit the tiniest fuse, I unwittingly explode…all over her face.

Nothing sobers a guy up faster than accidentally coming all over a pretty girl’s face. Silence falls between us as the shock of what just happened registers in my brain. Destiny sits with her eyes closed, my cum all over her face. Needless to say, it’s been a while since I cleaned out the pipes. Had I known tonight was going to happen like this, I would’ve thought about taking care of things beforehand, but whoever expects something like this to happen?

“I...I am…oh, my God, I am so sorry.” I stare at Destiny in horror as she sits at my feet with her eyes closed, feeling around for something to clean up with. “Here…here, take this.” I grab my shirt that she lifted off earlier and place it in her hand. “It’s my shirt. It’s okay.” She wipes her face several times to remove the mess and in the process, pulls off a great deal of her stage makeup. I know better than to tell her that she looks a little bit like a sick and dying raccoon with her mascara all over the place so I just sit quietly listening to my heart beat loudly in my chest.

She only opens her eyes a tiny but before standing and saying “It’s okay. I’m fine. Just excuse me for one minute.” She tries to smile but I can see she’s a little disgusted. I watch as she grabs a pink robe from the wall before heading into the bathroom and closing the door. I don’t waste any time. I can’t do this anymore. Birthday celebrations are over. It’s time to go. I stand up and zip my pants and then grab my shirt that…

“Shit.” I hold up my shirt to put back on and see that it now has wet spots all over it as well as half of Destiny’s sparkly makeup. “The guys will never let me live this down.” I mumble as I quickly slide my shirt back on, pretending that my now sparkly penis juice isn’t all over me, and open the door to leave.

“THERE HE IS!”

“JACK! You’re back!”

“Hey! Did you have fun?”

“What’s up with your shirt, man?”

The guys are all still seated at the table where I left them waiting for me. “Let’s go.” I tell them as I keep walking straight for the door, horrified that Destiny will come running to scream at me for walking out on her.

“Whoa, Jack. You alright?” Jacoby comes running after me as I exit the Sweetarts Lounge and head for the car. “Dude…you look like you just ran over a dog and…” He sniffs toward me. “You kind of smell like sex. What the hell happened in there?” Soon enough the rest of the guys tumble out as well.

“Nothing. I’m fine,” I answer quietly. I’m an asshole. She was pretty and now I’m an asshole who can’t control himself around a pretty girl with a warm tongue.

“Did you get laid, dude? Did she do you up right?” Devin shouts, slapping me on the back when he approaches.

“We’re not talking about it. Everything’s fine. Let’s go.” We all climb into the car, our bodies huddled tightly together in close quarters, smelling like sweat and beer and cum, and and…

Regret.

CHAPTER EIGHT

LINDA

“Do you think you want the professional look, like suit and pumps, or are you looking for more of a trendy, artsy look?” Jenna and I decided to schedule ourselves a day off from work together so that we could spend the day shopping for outfits to wear to her big fashion show coming up next weekend. She’s been furiously working to get all of pieces finished and fitted on her models, stressed to the max, so this day is a well-deserved day of pampering for her. I’m just the best friend side-kick who puts up with her stressed out panic attacks so I deserve the pampering too. Besides, I’ll be damned if I would ever let her go by herself.

“Definitely not a professional suit. That’s not me at all. I want to be comfortable, but I don’t want to stand out. I want my fashions to shine. So, maybe something black with a pop of color in my accessories?” Jenna says as we step into Macy’s and begin to look around.

“Okay…pants? Dress? Leggings? What do you think?” I ask her as I pull off a few items from a rack in front of me. She turns to look at what I’m holding – a black chiffon tunic dress with beading along the halter-style top, a red mini-skirt, and a white blouse – and tilts her head, thinking.

“I think I love that dress. I want to try it on. Do you think a dress is okay, or should I be thinking pants?” she wonders.

“Don’t know.” I shrug at her. “I’ve never done this before either, but I imagine you want to look sexy as hell. I mean, yeah the night is about your fashions, but in the end, people will want to meet you and you’re going to want to look amazing.”

“Yeah…” Her words fade, as does her confident expression. The one thing I know about my best friend, is that the more she thinks about something, the more anxious she gets. Too much over-thinking is never a good thing.

“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to pull three outfits for you and you’re going to try them on. We’ll go from there and see what you like. You need to look good, but more importantly, you need to feel good.”

“Okay. Do you think I should call Jacoby and get his opinion?”

“Fuck no! I’ll give him his props when it comes to writing a steamy sex scene, but women’s fashion? Girl, he tried to give you a t-shirt that said, ‘Jacked Up’ on the front. He won’t have a clue, and he’ll say yes to everything you put on. Trust me.” Seriously, this girl. I roll my eyes at her crazy talk which makes her laugh.

“Okay, okay. You’re right.” She spreads her arms out, motioning to all the clothing racks surrounding us. “Have at it, my friend. Go crazy…but not too crazy…and leave that black dress. I want to try that one.”

“Yesss!” Throwing a triumphant arm in the air, I excitedly turn away and begin to shop for my best friend. There’s nothing in this world I love more than shopping…except maybe Jenna.

“So, Jacoby’s coming to the fashion show, right?” I ask Jenna as we sit at the Harp and Hound enjoying some lunch.

“Yeah, he is, actually!” she responds. “He told me he would be there if I wanted him there, and of course I want him there. He’s my rock.” She looks up to see me raise an eyebrow at her. “I mean, other than you, of course.”

“Of course.” I wink at her. “So, things with Jacoby are…” I wait for her to finish the sentence.

“Blissfully fantastic.” She smiles.

“Good.” I smile back. “I’m super happy for you. He seems good for you, and you for him from what I’ve seen so far.”

“Yeah, he really is. He’s that voice of reason when I’m having a shitty day, and he’s really good at just letting me vent and cry out my stress.”

“And the grade-A hole punch ain’t bad either, right?” I smirk.

“I mean, I’m not complaining,” She laughs. “But he’s more than just a huge dick. Wait…that sounds like I’m calling him a dick. But he’s more than a dick…ugh. You know what I mean.” She waves her hand away, giggling. “What about you? You haven’t talked about anyone lately?” She takes a bite from her fish and chips platter. “And come to think of it, unless there’s something you’re not telling me, you haven’t been out much lately either.”

I haven’t told her about Jack yet. I have no idea what this thing with Jack is other than someone I talk to online almost every day…for a few hours at least. But that could be nothing.

“Yeah, no. I haven’t really been out much. You’re right. I guess I just haven’t been feeling it.” I sigh dramatically. “Maybe it’s time to settle down and try to find just one guy instead of like ten…I don’t know. Maybe that’s just not me though.”

“What’s not you?” Jenna asks. “Finding a guy who makes you feel good? A guy who makes you happy? A guy you could live with for the rest of your life?”

Like Jack.

“Yeah.” I shrug, picking at my food. “I mean, maybe I’m just not meant for that kind of life. I’ve always been the party girl. The one-night-stand type. Maybe long-term shit just isn’t me.”

“I call bullshit,” Jenna states. “I think the right guy is out there for you. You just have to be patient and be open to finding him. You know, Jacoby has a friend. He’s really nice. Maybe I should see if we could double date.”

“No way.” I shake my head adamantly. “Thank you very much, but I think I can handle this on my own. I don’t need to be dating Jacoby’s friends. That’s just hella-weird. I mean, what if things don’t work out? Then it could be weird for you. I wouldn’t want that.”

Jenna shrugs. “Yeah, I guess. Maybe he’s spoken for anyway. I don’t think I’ve ever asked Jacoby. I just assumed he was single.”

“So.” I wipe my mouth one last time and swallow the last of my lemon water. I pull out enough cash from my purse to pay for lunch. “Are you ready to find the perfect knee-high boots to go with your new black dress?”

“Ready when you are, my friend, but keep your money.” She beams, grabbing her purse and pulling out a wad of cash. “Jacoby insisted that lunch be on him.” She winks.

“Gag me.” I roll my eyes, laughing at the sweetness that is Jenna and Jacoby, but as we walk out to the car I wonder to myself if something will ever come of my online relationship with Jack, and how on earth I will know when it’s time to go further? Maybe I should say something to him tonight? How in the hell do I start a conversation like that?

NoRagrets: So, I Googled ‘serious questions for online dating’ and got something like ninety-seven different questions. First of all, how can there be that many serious questions, and who decides the order of seriousness?

There. That should break the ice for the night, right? It lets him know that I’m interested in asking serious questions. Ugh. Who knows. Maybe I’m shit at this.

Jax: You mean questions like “What’s your typical Sunday morning look like?” or “How are you with PDA?” That sort of thing? ‘Cause those are some make-it or break-it kind of questions, you know.

NoRagrets: Hahaha yeah, I guess. And since you asked, I should probably let you know that my typical Sunday mornings are spent laying around until I have to go to work. Our General Manager takes Sundays off to spend time with family and work her other job so it’s usually me working on a Sunday.

Jax: No judgement there. My Sundays are usually spent with family too. Or hanging out at home.

NoRagrets: Hmm PDA…it’s never scared me away before.

Jax: Me either, but I draw the line at sex on a park bench in the middle of the day. #splinters

NoRagrets: Lol! Damn, that was on my bucket list too.

Jax: Well, in that case… maybe I should reconsider.

NoRagrets: I think since you’re a lawyer, maybe we shouldn’t think about that. I’m certain there are laws against such things.

Jax: Right. Yeah. Fucking laws. hahahahaha Pun totally unintended!

NoRagrets: hahahahahaha!

I couldn’t be more grateful that Jack has a sense of humor and seems to put my overactive mind at ease without even knowing it. He doesn’t seem to take himself too seriously, which I like because I don’t think I’ve ever taken myself seriously.

NoRagrets: Can I ask you a personal question?

My pulse quickens when I hit “send” and my question appears on the page.

Jax: Sure.

NoRagrets: Have you ever been in love, I mean like, an actual serious relationship?

The question tugs at my heart, spreading an overwhelming feeling of anxiety through me. What if he says yes? What if he’s just coming off a long-term relationship? How can a guy as nice as he seems to be even be single in the first place? Or…what if he says no? What if he’s not the least bit interested in finding something long-term?

Jax: Well I’m not sure one equals the other or vice-versa, but to answer your question, No. I mean, I thought I was in love once, after college, but as I grew up and things changed, I realized it was really just a short-lived infatuation. It didn’t last more than six months. I’ve been single for the past three years.

NoRagrets: I’m sorry.

Jax: There’s nothing to be sorry for. I just grew up and realized she wasn’t the one for me.

NoRagrets: So how is it that a guy like you has been single for so long now? Did you swear off the vagina forever or have you just not been looking for anything long-term?

Jax: hahaha no. I did not swear off the vagina. I guess after my last relationship ended, I just decided to focus on my career and that’s where I’ve been ever since.

NoRagrets: And now?

Jax: And now… I’m looking for a vagina.

Jax: Wait… that sounded totally wrong and not what I meant at all.

NoRagrets: LOL! That’s ok. I understood completely. I love how much you make me laugh. Even if you don’t mean to.

Jax: Phew! I’m glad you have a sense of humor enough to know I’m not a gross douchebag who thinks about vaginas all day.

NoRagrets: I’ll reserve judgement for another day.

Jax: Thanks, I think… So, what about you? Have you ever been in love?

His question comes up and the pit in my stomach grows. I knew it had to be coming. It’s only fair that I answer the same questions I so bravely throw at him, but how do I tell a guy - that I’m more than a little interested in - that until now, I’ve just slept around on a whim not caring at all who the penis was attached to?

NoRagrets: Umm, no. I guess I haven’t. If I’m being honest with you, I have always been the fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants, non-committal type. Until recently.

Jax: Until recently? Did something change?

NoRagrets: I met you. (ps. I know, that sounds stupidly corny)

Jax: Linda? Can I be honest too?

NoRagrets: Of course. Put me out of my misery. My face is all flushed over here.

Jax: If it makes you feel any better, I wasn’t interested in looking for a vagina until I met you. (ps. That was a joke. I don’t care about your vagina as much as I seem to care about you.)

“What?” I scream, sitting in front of my laptop. “Did he just say? He said…Oh, my God…he cares about me? What the hell do I say to that?” This is one of those times when I wish I would’ve just come clean to Jenna and told her about my lecherous online affair with a man named Jack. Okay, maybe not lustrous, but oh, my gosh he cares about me? I need her to tell me what to say. I need her to tell me how to not fuck this whole thing up. That’s what besties do, except…I’ve been keeping this whole thing a secret assuming I would’ve fucked it up a long time ago. I didn’t want her to have to say, “I told you so.”

“Buck up, Linda. You can do this.” I encourage myself, staring at the screen forever, trying to come up with the right words to say.

Jax: Uh…did I scare you away?

NoRagrets: NO! Sorry, no. I just…umm, I don’t really know what to say. I’m trying to come up with something perfect to say only I’m not good at it.

Jax: You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. We can just sit here in silence.

NoRagrets: Well, that would be awkward. Can I be honest one more time?

Jax: Always.

NoRagrets: I was sitting here trying to remember the last time a guy told me that he cared about me. I honestly can’t think of even one time.

Jax: That’s bullshit. I think about you every day. I wonder what you’re up to, or I hear something that reminds me of one of our conversations. I look forward to chatting with you every night because I care about you.

“Here goes nothing,” I mumble as my fingers glide across the keyboard.

NoRagrets: I care about you too.

Jax: I think we should meet.

CHAPTER NINE

JACK - 2013

I’m a twenty-four-year-old virgin. I don’t really have shame in that, because I respect my life and my parents and my future career too much to mess that all up just because my dick wants a little attention once in a while. That and up until now the right girl hadn’t come along, but then I met Veronica. Her father is one of the university’s trustees. He’s a big name around here and I know, even though they would never say it, my parents are giddy over the fact that I’m not only seeing someone, but that Veronica Lafrance could become a potential future wife for their son. We met here in law school and have spent more time together in the past few months than apart. She’s beautiful, incredibly sexy, hard-working, and a bit bitchy at times, but I like that about her. It gives her an edge over the guys around here who think they have their lives figured out and that people like Veronica should just step aside. Nope. This girl can hold her own.

“Hey.” She runs up behind me, linking her arm with mine as we walk down the hallway to our last classes.

I kiss the side of her head. “Hey beautiful. How was your meeting with Dr. Tines?”

“Oh, my God, Jack!” she exclaims, practically skipping with excitement. “It went better than I ever could have expected! He wanted to let me know that three different New York City law firms had called inquiring about me!”

“What? That’s amazing!” I practically shout. “So, what did he say?”

“He said that when the semester is over, I could pretty much take my pick of where I want to go! They all want me and they’re all waiting to negotiate with me. Seriously, law firms fighting over me? This is totally amazing.” She beams. “We have to celebrate.”

“Okay. I’m game. Where do you want to go? I’m available after Family Law.” Veronica takes my hand and turns in front of me, stopping me in the hallway.

“I was thinking of a different kind of celebrating.” She bites her lip, looking at me with a hunger I haven’t seen from her before. Is she talking about what I think she’s talking about?

“Yeah?” My eyebrows shoot up in disbelief.

She shrugs like she’s trying to play it off. “Yeah. I mean…you know…why not? I deserve to be rewarded, and anyway don’t you think it’s time?” She kisses me on my cheek before skipping off ahead of me. “I’ll catch you later, okay? Text me when class is out.”

“Yeah.” I watch her, wide-eyed. “Okay.” We’ve been down this road before. We’ve had our intimate moments together. Even if we haven’t yet had intercourse, I can walk tall knowing that I know what her body likes. I know what she wants, I know where she likes to be touched, and thanks to the magazines Jacoby used to have in his dorm room a few years ago, I do a pretty good job knowing how to make her come apart, reveling in her pleasure. But up until today…there hasn’t been much of an interest in reciprocation from her. She would either fall asleep after climaxing, or seem a little uneasy about touching me the way I would touch her. I’m not the kind of guy to ever pressure a girl into sex, and certainly not Mr. Lafrance’s daughter. My dick may make me a horny twenty-something, but I’m not stupid. I would simply let her sleep while I excused myself to the bathroom to finish the job, usually with whatever lotion she had on hand.

The door to my Family Law class opens and a few girls walk out chatting to each other and giggling. There’s no way they heard our conversation and there’s no way they know what I’m thinking right now, so I ignore them as best I can and shuffle into my last class a little prouder than usual. If Veronica meant what I think she meant, I may end this day not a twenty-four-year-old virgin.

I better clean the pipes before I see her again.

If she’s really going to touch me, I’ll be damned if my date with Destiny repeats itself.

“Yessss, Jack,” Veronica whispers as she lays beneath me, her eyes closed, her body writhing under my touch. After all this time, I feel like a damn super hero having a beautiful woman buckling at my touch…speaking my name.

“Yeah? You like that?” I ask, spreading kisses down her neck and across her collar bone, as my hand slides down her body.

“Mmm…hmm” she responds.

Tenderly I lift her t-shirt above her head. She’s not wearing a bra. Her breasts are on display for my viewing pleasure, and they are exquisite. Better than any magazine centerfold I could ever see. Because these babies are real. Slowly I lift my hand, circling my finger around her nipple, watching it harden without my even touching it. Veronica arches her back and bites her lip.

“You are so sexy,” I tell her before leaning over and covering her nipple with my mouth. At the same time my hand moves beneath her panties, my fingers sliding in and around her.

“Jack!” she cries, panting.

“I know, Baby. Just relax. You deserve this. I’m so fucking proud of you.” I roll over on top of her and slide down her body, lifting her legs slowly over my shoulders. The deep breath she takes tells me she knows what’s coming. She grabs the sheets on both sides of her when my tongue licks the apex of her thighs.

“OHHHHH MYYY GOD!” She screams. “Shhhhh!” I chuckle. “We don’t need anyone to call the police. I wouldn’t begin to know how to explain this one.”

Veronica tries to laugh but the party going on between her legs is merciless as my tongue connects with her swollen skin over, and over, and over, again.

“Jack, stop.” She pants. “I don’t want to end this way. Not today. I want to feel you. Please, Jack.”

“Are you sure?” I don’t want to ask, but I feel like I have to since we’ve never gone all the way before.

“Yes. Put me down.” She squirms anxiously. “I want to be on top. I want to be the driver.”

Lord, have mercy.

I easily lift her entire body, carrying her until I turn around and lie back on the bed. She slides down from straddling my neck and unbuckles my pants. I lift my hips so that she can easily shimmy my pants down my legs to my ankles. The mere thought of what might actually happen tonight has me harder than I think I’ve ever been, which surprises me given the fact that I prepared for tonight just a little over an hour ago. Veronica reaches into my boxers and unabashedly grabs my very hard, very excited dick. I’m all too proud that so far, I haven’t pulled a “Destiny” as Jacoby has called it for the last three years.

“Condom, baby. In my wallet. Back pocket of my jeans.”

“Got it.” She leans back, her entire body on display for me. While she opens the package, I reach up and grab her breasts, rolling them in my hands and watching her melt beneath me.

“I don’t…” She shakes her head, holding the condom. “I’ve never…”

“Here, let me.” I take the condom from her and roll it over me, wincing at the tightness, but anxiously awaiting what comes next. Veronica’s lips turn up in a sexy smile that makes me want to suck her face for the entire night. She climbs over me, my hands on her waist and lowers herself onto me slowly, deliberately.

“Ohhhhh yeah.” I groan. “You okay?” I need to make sure she’s not in pain, but good God does this feel good.

“Yeah, I’m good. Just stretching.”

“Take your time,” I tell her.

“Mmm…” She lifts herself slowly before sinking back down, taking all of me inside her. I get to watch her as she repeats her movements again and again, picking up her pace each time. I get to watch as her tits bounce up and down with every move she makes. “Yes, Jack,” she says. “Soo good.”

As my excitement builds I begin to thrust faster and harder until, our bodies are slamming against each other in tandem. I grab her hips and pull her down on me with force every time she thrusts against me, listening as she screams my name.

But something is wrong.

I’m not feeling this anymore.

What’s happening?

She moves her hips forward ever so slightly before I hear “Ew! What is that?”

“Ow! Ow, ow! STOP!” I shout, grabbing her hips and nearly throwing her off of me.

“Oh, my God, what? What happened?” She pants, sitting on the side of the bed beside me. She looks down and sees exactly what the problem is. Horrified she asks, “What happened to your penis?”

“Nothing happened to it.” I try to defend my manhood. “It just…stopped working.”

“Do you suffer from erectile dysfunction?” she whispers.

“What? No!” I tell her. I want to tell her that this has to be because I masturbated before being with her, but how the hell would that make her feel? She would think I didn’t have any faith in her or our relationship. She would think I didn’t want to be with her. She would think all the wrong things. “It just…happens…sometimes.”

“It’s never happened before.” She looks disgusted as she reaches for her shirt and slides it back on.

“I’m sorry. I don’t always have control of stuff like this.” I explain.

“But this was supposed to be my night?” She whines. “This was a great day and I really wanted to celebrate.”

“I know Babe. I’m so sorry.”

And thanks for the emasculation.

She sits beside me and sighs, clearly pissed that our intimate time was cut short by a limp dick. After a few minutes of silence between us, she throws her leg over mine, naked from the waist down, and says, “You’re still going to get me off though, right?”

2017

Jax: I think we should meet.

NoRagrets: I would love that. I’m sure we can make it work somehow. What part of Connecticut are you from?

Jax: Uh, well, here, there, and everywhere, but I work and live in Mystic. Love it here. Great place to live. Are you familiar?

The foster system wasn’t kind to me growing up. I went from family to family for several years until the Schmidts took me and finally adopted me. Even to this day I never want to let them down. I feel like I owe them my best every single day for giving me life, a life any foster kid would dream of having. And then there’s Jacoby and the rest of the Malloys. My life got even better, the day I met them all. I suddenly had a great life, and a best friend who never judged me for being that kid who pretty much knew nothing about being a kid, let alone an adolescent boy.

I always made it my priority to make sure nobody ever regrets what they’ve given me. The Schmidts paid for my college education, and I repaid them by graduating Magna Cum Laude and Valedictorian of my class. I finished law school, also at the top of my class, and although I could’ve gone on to work with many other perhaps more prestigious firms in Boston or Manhattan, I chose to stay close to my family, here in Mystic. I make it a point to spend time with them when I can. I didn’t get to have a real family before the eighth grade, so I’ll be damned if I’m just going to walk away from it now.

NoRagrets: Are you fucking with me?

Jax: Uhh…no? Why?

NoRagrets: You’re not going to believe this. I’m from Mystic too! Born and raised!

Jax: No shit! That’s fantastic! Then we should absolutely meet! It would be tragic not to.

NoRagrets: I’m totally game. Wait, what’s your last name? Did I ever even ask?

Jax: Hahaha it’s Schmidt. Jack Schmidt. How about this Saturday?

NoRagrets: Schmidt like Crane, Poole, and Schmidt? (I was a huge Boston Legal fan) And I have a commitment Saturday afternoon.

Jax: haha yes. I loved that show too. The world needs more Denny Crane these days. And that’s okay. We can do a different day.

NoRagrets: But I can be free Saturday evening as long as you don’t mind if I’m mildly dressed up.

Jax: Not at all. How about drinks at The Harp and Hound?

NoRagrets: One of my favorite places! Is eight o-clock too late? I’m not positive I’ll be available much before then.

Jax: No, not too late at all. As long as you don’t mind if I’m in my bathrobe and slippers. (Ps. Kidding)

NoRagrets: Great! Umm, I’ll be wearing a purple sweater dress with boots.

Jax: Great. I’ll find you. Eight o-clock on Saturday. Harp and Hound.

NoRagrets: I’m really excited to finally meet you face to face. What a small world that we both live in Mystic, huh?

Jax: Yeah. Like it was meant to be. Goodnight, Linda. Sweet dreams.

NoRagrets: Goodnight Jack.

CHAPTER TEN

LINDA

It’s Jenna’s big day and her sister, Bethy, and I have been running around like headless chickens. Knowing that Jenna has Jacoby to keep her calm, and that Bethy and I know what we’re doing, it’s easy to do the grunt work for her, setting up the lingerie booth, displaying her pieces on the mannequins, setting out business cards and pamphlets etc. I know she appreciates the work and I’m beyond proud of her accomplishments. With just a little luck, this fashion show could change her life.

“Holy balls! Did you see who is here?” Bethy asks me in her best shout-whisper.

“No, who’s here? Is it a Kardashian? I hear they never miss these types of things…though I wouldn’t have expected them in Mystic.”

“No, it’s not a Kardashian! It’s better than that! At least for Jenna!”

“Oh, then who is it?” I mimic her obvious excitement.

“It’s Melinda Wexing, from the Top Drawer!” She exclaims.

“The Top Drawer, as in the number one lingerie company in the U.S.?” I ask cautiously.

“YES! That’s the one!” Beth squeals. “I don’t even think Jenna knows! I have to find her.”

“Noooo you don’t.” I tug on her arm pulling her back from making a monumental mistake.

“What? Of course, I do! Are you kidding me?”

“Beth, did you see how stressed she was last night? How overwhelmed but on point she is today? Girl, if you tell her something that big, you’re going to set off all of her internal alarms. You’re going to stress her out to the max because she’s going to feel the need to impress.”

“Yeah, I get that, but you don’t think she should know that they’re here?”

I shrug. “If they like her stuff, they’ll seek her out. If they don’t like it, they’ll leave and she won’t be any worse for the wear.”

“True.” Beth contemplates. “Okay. I won’t say anything. But you better keep her away from me because she knows when I’m hiding shit like that from her.”

“Oh, I’ll hold you back, girl. No worries.” I wink. Once the work is done and we’re waiting for the show to start, I pull my phone from my belt to check for messages. I’ve been very cautious throughout the day not to say anything to Jenna – because duh, this day is all about her – and have tried not to get too excited. This is the first time I’ve ever talked to anyone through an online dating service, let alone actually meeting him in person. Things can always go wrong and with me, they either do, or I walk before they get a chance to. This time though, I’m really looking forward to some fun company for the evening, and if I’m lucky, I’ll get lucky with a nice guy instead of some creep from the bar.

Except I’m meeting him in a bar.

“Hey. You guys ready? I have a feeling that tonight’s going to be a good night.” Jenna squeals.

“Great.” I roll my eyes. “Now that song is going to be stuck in my head forever.”

Jenna laughs and wraps her arms around me in a huge hug. “Sorry, but in case I forget to say it later, thank you for all the shit you’ve done in the past few days to help out with all this. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Honey I wouldn’t miss it and you know that. What are besties for, right?” I squeeze her tightly right back. “I’m so proud of you. You’re going to be great tonight. I have a good feeling.”

“Yeah? You think so?” she asks nervously.

“I don’t think so. I know so.” I smile. “I’m going to go man the booth. Good luck out there. Break a leg…or…trip over a shoe…or whatever they say in this biz.”

When the lingerie portion of the fashion show ends, there is a whirlwind of activity at our booth. Within no time at all, Leslie, the owner of the boutique selling Jenna’s pieces, sells out of every last piece of lingerie that Jenna packed for today. They were even stripped off the mannequins. I’m in awe that her pieces were that popular – not that I didn’t think they would be – and that her name became one to remember tonight. I don’t think I’ve ever been prouder of my best friend. Before going to find Jenna, I check my phone one more time to make certain there aren’t any messages from Jack. I don’t know why I expected him to cancel on me, but I’m glad he hasn’t. This has been a remarkable evening and I’ll be happy to celebrate with him later.

“As soon as your portion of the show was over, ladies were flocking to us to get their hands on anything they could. And FYI, the black corset piece…genius! Everyone wants one. They love the pink ruffles! Nicely done!”

“Oh, my gosh, Leslie, thank you so much for all of your help,” Jenna gushes.

Beth shakes her head stunned. “I can’t believe we sold out! There was a ton of inventory.”

“Well I can believe it.” I wink. “That shit would make a possessed Linda Blair look like a fucking sex goddess.” Jacoby and Jenna burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” I ask.

“Nothing,” Jacoby tells me. “Inside vomit joke.”

“Excuse me, Ms. Zimmerman?” Jenna turns toward a man and a woman standing before us, dressed immaculately in what I would call fashion suits. Totally not something I would wear, but I’m not rich and fabulous so there’s that.

“Uh, yes. Yes, that’s me. I’m umm. I’m Jenna Zimmerman,” she responds, looking a little star-struck. Okay, a lot star-struck.

The woman extends her hand to Jenna. “My name is Melinda Wexing, I’m a buyer and the Director of Design for…”

“Top Drawer.” Jenna interrupts her, shaking her hand. Her face turns pink quickly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt you. It’s just that, well, I’m sure you know that your reputation precedes you. The Top Drawer Lingerie Boutique is the most well respected lingerie company in the country. We used to study the company when I was in school.”

Melinda smiles warmly. “Ah, I’m glad to see that you are as excited to meet us as we are to meet you.”

Jenna is speechless, which doesn’t happen often. It’s such a thrill seeing her in her prime, doing something she’s passionate about doing. And if I must say, she looks blissfully happy with Jacoby by her side. I stand with Jenna and the gang as she finishes her conversation with Ms. Wexing, excited to see what the future brings for my best friend.

“Well isn’t this just the best day any of us could have asked for?” I announce. “Beth and Jizza are going to make a shit-ton of money from the sale of their lingerie line, Jenna is chasing after her dream, and I have a hot date tonight!”

Jenna turns to me, astounded to be hearing my latest news. “You what? You have a date? You didn’t tell me you had a date!”

“Yeah well, I do!” I respond.

“With who?” she asks.

“A super mega hot guy named Jack. He’s kind of quiet, a little quirky, but different from most of the guys I’ve dated before. And he’s a lawyer.” I shrug. “I’m kind of excited.”

“Quiet, quirky, hot guy named Jack who is also a lawyer…” Jacoby repeats. “I bet his last name is Schmidt.” He elbows Jenna and she laughs.

But I don’t laugh.

My jaw flies open. “As a matter of fact, it is Schmidt. You know him?”

Jacoby laughs harder. “Know him? I grew up with him! He’s my best friend.”

“Shut up. You’re joking,” I argue.

Jacoby pulls his phone out of his pocket, hits the home button and scrolls through a few pictures until he finds what he’s looking for. He holds up a picture of he and Jack together. “Is this the guy you’re seeing tonight?”

My hand flies to my forehead. “Yeah. It is. Holy shit! How did this happen? Oh, my God. Did you plan this? Did you plan for us to meet? You totally did, Malloy, didn’t you?”

Continuing to laugh he answers. “No ma’am, I did not. I swear. Where did you two meet?”

“Uh…” I blush. “On an online dating site.”

“What?” Jenna laughs at the same time Jacoby exclaims, “No shit!”

“You tried online dating and you didn’t tell me?”

“I know, I know. It’s not my usual M.O. but I was bored one night and thought I would give it a try just for shits and giggles. It was actually something I was going to have us both do before this guy hole-punched his way into your life,” I tell her, hitching a thumb toward Jacoby. “Anyway, then I was matched with him and we’ve been talking, and one thing led to another, and once we learned we were in the same town we knew we wanted to see what happens. I mean, it’ll be fine, right? He’s hot. He seems nice, and if I’m lucky, I may even get laid!” I wink.

“Mmm…I don’t know about that,” Jacoby warns.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing. You just don’t know Jack Schmidt,” he says.

I listen to his words but stop short of responding and crack up laughing instead.

“What’s so funny?” Jacoby asks me.

“You don’t know Jack Schmidt! That’s what’s funny!” I snort. “Sounds like you’re saying…hahaha you know what? That would make a great title for a book.”

Jacoby chuckles, nodding in agreement. “Yes, yes it would. When are you meeting him?”

“And where?” Jenna adds.

“The Harp and Hound at eight tonight.” I look at my phone to see what time it is, because who even wears a watch anymore? “So, I’ll leave once we get all the stuff packed up for you.”

“Is that what you’re wearing? Cause you look hot!” Beth nudges me.

“Yeah. I told him I would be in a purple sweater dress. No going back now.”

“It rocks with your hair color.” Jenna claps her hands excitedly. “Oh, my God, my best friend is going to date my boyfriend’s bestie. This is too much! I can’t believe how fate works sometimes. You’ll love Jack, Linda. He really is very sweet, compassionate, and has a great sense of humor.”

“Just go easy on him,” Jacoby pleads. “He might not be the guy you expect.”

“What do you mean ‘the guy I expect’?”

“Just…Schmidt happens.” Jacoby chuckles. “And they’re all his stories to tell. Give him a chance. He deserves a nice girl. You could be good for him, actually.”

“I can’t wait to find out.”

TO BE CONTINUED...BECAUSE SOONER OR LATER,

SCHMIDT HAPPENS.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Susan Renee wants to live in a world where paint doesn’t smell, Hogwarts is open twenty-four/seven, and everything is covered in glitter. An indie romance author, Susan has written about everything from lawn mowers to thick colossal bottles of wine, and has won a Snuggle Buddy award for her nonfiction book, “The Hula Hoop Tester’s Guide to Jumping.” She lives in Ohio with her family and seven tiny donkeys. She’s a Pet Whispering major from OMGU with a Masters in medical care for inanimate objects (a la Doc. McStuffins). Susan enjoys crab-walking through the Swiss Alps, drinking Muscle Milk, and doing the Care Bear stare with her closest friends

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SOLVING US

SEVEN

HOLE PUNCHED

THE SCHMIDT LOAD SERIES BOOK 1: YOU DON’T KNOW JACK SCHMIDT

THE SCHMIDT LOAD SERIES BOOK 2: SCHMIDT HAPPENS

(COMING FALL OF 2017)

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