Stroked Hard

  “Where’s your hotel? We need to talk.”

  That’s exactly what I don’t want to do. I feel incredibly nauseated from everything that I want to slink away, and forget this night ever happened.

  They love him. They love him with every bone in their body.

  They are proud of him.

  They can’t stop speaking of him, of both of them, of the product they were able to create.

  They cried when saying goodbye.

  They said goodbye.

  Holly and Hollis were enough—more than enough really. Loved. Adored. Kept.

  And they made promises of getting together when they are all back in the States, wanting to invite the entire family over so they can see the huge feat Holly and Hollis were able to accomplish.

  They are so fucking honored to have them as their children.

  They claim them . . .

  Hollis made a mistake, one that hurt his sister, one that almost took her life away, and yet, they still love him. They still shower him with unconditional love, especially his dad.

  Even through their errors, they claim them.

  My dad claims his new children. He loves them. He cherishes them. He’s stayed for them.

  So what the fuck is wrong with me?

  “I can’t,” I shake my head, every emotion in my head clashing together.

  “Melony.” Hollis slips his fingers in with mine but I pull away.

  “Hollis, I can’t do this.”

  “What do you mean you can’t do this?” His voice grows darker. I wouldn’t expect anything less from him, not after what I’ve put him through. I’ve completely fucked with him, and I know it.

  I hate myself. Anyone privy to the ins and outs of our relationship would hate me too. Hell, if this “love story” was played out on a realty show like Rollin’ in the Bacon, I would be one hundred percent chastised, ridiculed, and burned at the stake for the kind of up-and-down roller coaster I’ve put Hollis through.

  Hollis, this amazing man, Mr. Romantic, best abs in the country. He deserves way more than me. He deserves someone who can offer him all the things he wants like a house on the beach, a wife, someone who has value.

  He doesn’t need me, a pathetic excuse for a little girl . . .

  Daddy, rocket me to my bed!

  Daddy makes the best cheesy hot dogs.

  Why are Daddy’s bags packed? Where is he going?

  Why is Daddy leaving?

  Fuck!

  Not a little girl, a woman. A pathetic excuse for a woman.

  “Melony,” Hollis shakes me, forcing me back into the present, “what the fuck is going on?”

  Stepping away, out of his grasp, I shake my head. I can’t do this, not to him. He’s everything and I’m . . . nothing.

  Worthless.

  With all the bravado I can muster, I look him in the eyes and say, “I don’t want to fall in love. I don’t even want to try. I know what it brings, and I don’t want to go back there again.” I gulp down my emotions, trying to look past the pure devastation coursing through this man in front of me. “Love isn’t in the cards for us, Hollis. I’m sorry.”

  Love. Funny fucking thing it is. An emotion we are all born with that consumes this world whether it be love for your family, your neighbor, or your soul mate. Love makes this world spin, and yet, there are people like me who don’t want it but still are forced to deal with the all-encompassing emotion.

  I hate myself for doing this today, a day that should be his best day ever. A day of celebration. But he will be better without me. He’s too good for someone like me. He needs someone amazing like his sister. Like his mom.

  Not me.

  I don’t want to fall in love.

  I glance at Hollis one more time. His gorgeous blue eyes are filled with pain, his shoulders slumped, and his posture completely deflated. You’re too good for me. I’m not enough. Not for you.

  I don’t want to fall in love.

  It’s a shame I already have.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  HOLLIS

  Dancing with the Stars wants me.

  GQ wants me.

  ESPN wants me.

  Wheaties wants me.

  Puma wants me.

  Buick kicked Matthew “all right, all right, all right” McConaughey to the curb and wants me.

  Fuck . . . every endorsement ranging from The Mattress King to Chibani to The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon wants me.

  But the one fucking person I want the most, doesn’t.

  What kind of shitty luck is that?

  I don’t want to fall in love.

  What she was really saying was she doesn’t want to fall in love with me. I’m not a dumbass. I could see it in her eyes.

  Dinner with my family keeps playing over and over in my head. The minute we started talking about the accident, her demeanor changed. I know my family made it seem like they didn’t hold anything against me, which I know they don’t, but those five words keep ringing through my head . . .

  You were texting and driving?

  That’s all she asked. I was texting and driving. I almost hit another car, but instead hit a tree, ending my sister’s career. My parents praised me for rising from my fall, but Melony stayed silent while my dad continued to rave about me.

  What was she thinking?

  Did she think I was the monster I thought myself to be? A horrible person? Did she believe I should still feel guilty? Am I the one she thinks should have lost their ability to walk and not my sister?

  Does she not want to fall in love with me because she doesn’t trust me to take care of her? Hell, after that story, I wouldn’t trust myself. I believe people can find error in their ways, but what I did, what I took away, is that too much for Melony to handle?

  Hell, it has to be.

  It’s the only reason I can think of why I’m back in my condo, Taco licking his balls next to me, with an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach. Winning a gold medal has never felt so fucking lousy.

  “How do your balls taste?” I ask Taco who lifts his head to glance my way. He licks his snout and I almost puke in my mouth. “That good, huh?”

  While I was gone, he stayed with my trusted dog-sitter, and when I went to pick him up, he acted as if he didn’t know me. It was just another kick to the crotch.

  “Bet you my balls taste better than yours, but I’m not into bestiality, so we’ll never really know, now will we?”

  There is a knock at my door, pulling me away from the disgusting sound of my dog lapping up at his testicles. He doesn’t even bother barking, he’s too invested in the taste of his nut sac.

  Hoping it might be Melony quickly vanishes. That’s been wiped away since she refuses to answer me in any form. When she wants to cut someone out of her life, she’s damn good at it.

  Getting up, I don’t bother putting on a shirt. What’s the point? Everyone has seen me with it off and in way worse than a pair of sweats. The moment you step in front of a camera wearing only a pair of underwear, you pretty much don’t care what people see you in.

  I open the door and Reese is standing there with his arm around Paisley. Good for fucking them, they worked everything out.

  I really should be happy for my best friend; his journey with Paisley was a long and secretive one, but I can’t seem to muster the ability to care. I will chalk it up to the fucking hole blasted through my heart thanks to Melony.

  Fuck.

  “It’s nice to smile at people when they come to visit you,” Reese says, sarcasm evident.

  “Did you bring ice cream?” Paisley holds up a bag that was behind her. I step aside, giving them access to my condo. “All right, you can come in. Grab the spoons, I will be next to my dog who likes his balls more than he likes me.”

  I don’t bother closing the door, as Reese and Paisley can worry about that. Slumping in depression, I flop down on my couch, kicking my legs up on the armrest, my head on the pillow next to Taco. For some reason, the licking sound is sta
rting to soothe me.

  I can hear Reese and Paisley quietly talking to each other in the kitchen while they shuffle around in my silverware drawer, most likely trying to figure out how to handle me. They could be more discreet.

  They shuffle into my living room, probably holding hands. I don’t look because I’m concentrating on the ceiling.

  “Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough,” Reese says. I don’t look but hold out my hand, and a pint with a spoon is placed in my palm. “Extra chunky.”

  “Just how I like it,” I reply, scooping up a large spoonful and shoving it in my mouth.

  “So . . .” Reese pauses. “You look good.”

  “I look like shit.”

  “Yeah, but I wasn’t going to say that.” There is a slap followed by an oopf from Reese. “What? He said he looked like shit? I can’t agree with that?”

  “Not when he’s hurting.”

  “Guys don’t work that way, babe.”

  “We don’t,” I reply, still staring at the ceiling. “But I wouldn’t smack you away if you tried brushing my hair and telling me how I will find another lady one day.”

  “Want me to get a brush?” Paisley asks.

  “I do,” I answer half joking, half not.

  She pulls one out of her purse and sits next to me, asking Taco to move but not listening to his protests. She kicks him off his throne.

  “Babe, are you really going to brush his hair?”

  Tines of a comb start working through my hair, so yes, she is. “He wants his hair brushed.”

  “If that’s the case, I would like a blow job.”

  “Reese.”

  I scoff. “He’s such a barbarian. Show some fucking class, man.”

  “This coming from the man with ice cream dripping down his chin and a woman brushing his hair with a Barbie comb.”

  I turn to look at Paisley. “Is that a Barbie comb?” She holds up the pink paddle. “Shit, I need to get myself one of those, that feels nice.”

  “You can find Barbies at a dollar store.”

  “Paisley, he just won a gold medal, pretty sure he’s not worried about splurging on a Barbie doll from Target.”

  “It’s nice to get a discount,” she adds.

  “I like saving money.” I was saving money to buy a house. I have plenty of it, but the one thing missing is the girl I want to buy it with. I’m so lame.

  “See?” Paisley says. “He likes saving money.” She continues to stroke my hair with the Barbie comb as I eat my ice cream.

  “Dude, you look seriously pathetic right now.”

  “Reese!” Paisley chastises. “How is that being helpful?”

  “It’s true.” I help my friend out. “I’m pathetic. I’m so fucking pathetic and very desperate at this moment in time.”

  “See, baby?”

  “Still, it’s not helpful.”

  “Listen, I’ve known Hollis for a long time. I’ve seen him through breakups, so I know how this works. He wallows about, sulks, eats gallons of ice cream and then one day, he’s ready to find the girl he’s supposed to spend the rest of his life with again.”

  “It’s true.” I nod. “But this time, it’s different.” I sigh and turn to the side, facing my best friend now. “I love her, man. She’s the one. Well, I at least thought she was the one. I was so fucking sure.”

  “Maybe she is,” Paisley suggests.

  “Babe, she won’t return any of his calls, she barely talks to you. Why do you think this is any different?”

  It’s true, I’ve tried to use Paisley as my secret weapon when it comes to Melony, but we’ve failed on that front multiple times. Now Melony barely talks to Paisley, which I hate because I don’t want to ruin their relationship. I don’t want my girl alone.

  “It might be different. I, um, kind of remember something she said to me on the plane.”

  As if Jesus came by and lifted my upper half to sitting position, I spring up and look her in the eyes. “What the hell, Paisley? I thought I told you to tell me everything she says.” My tone is on the better half of asshole but I don’t care.

  “Dude, watch it,” Reese warns. Just what I would expect from him.

  Ignoring my friend, I ask, “What the hell did she say?”

  “I’ve told you everything,” Paisley says defensively. “This was before you two broke up. If I knew at the time that you guys were actually dating, I might have thought differently of it.”

  “What reminded you now?”

  “You calling yourself pathetic.”

  “Okay . . .” Not sure where she’s going with this, I ask, “Care to elaborate?”

  Reese stands and places his hand on her shoulder. “She will elaborate when you stop being a dick to her. You’re lucky we’re even here with ice cream after the verbal abuse you left on our voicemails.”

  I might have gone off the deep end earlier on in the breakup. Swearing up a storm, talking about slicing legs off, and threatening to waterboard people for information. It was an intense time in my life, one I would like to forget about.

  “I already made that up to you with a romantic date at Number Seventeen. Remember? You got the most expensive bottle of wine along with steak and a side of lobster.” Smirking, Reese nods in remembrance. Sucking down my pride, I say, “I’m sorry for being a dick, now please tell me what you know.”

  Paisley looks nervous as she fidgets with the Barbie comb. “I didn’t think much of it at the time because she was clearly uncomfortable talking about it, but when we were on the plane, she seemed really down, not like herself.” I think back to when she was flying out to Rio. She wasn’t returning my texts at that point, so whatever happened before then must have been the reason. “I asked her what was wrong. It took some coaxing but she told me that she saw her dad.”

  “What? She saw her dad? Like she went to visit him?” My heart is starting to beat rapidly in my chest, my palms start to sweat, and a stabbing pain takes up behind my eye. She saw her fucking dad. The conversations I’ve had with Carla, Melony’s mom, and Melony start running through my head.

  He left when she was six and started a new family.

  I wasn’t good enough for him to stay.

  Why didn’t he want to stay?

  Is that what caused her to shut down?

  “No, she made it sound like she accidentally ran into him. I know she didn’t say hi, just observed I guess. He was there with his new family. That’s how she put it.” Fucking piece of shit. Paisley continues. “This is the part I really remember. She said she felt insignificant. I remember that because even with my parent issues, I’ve never felt insignificant. Despite my parents not liking the path I took at first, I knew they still loved me. From the look on Melony’s face, it didn’t seem like she believed he ever loved her. He didn’t even recognize her.”

  “Fuck,” I mumble while standing. I pace the room, my hand in my hair. “That’s why she shut down. Seeing him must have brought back all those awful feelings again. Shit.” I think back to the dinner we had in Rio, with my family. The way my parents loved on me, boasted about Holly and me, even after we talked about the car accident . . .

  “Fuck!” I shout even louder, everything clicking in my head.

  “What is it?” Reese asks.

  I explain to Reese and Paisley everything I know from the way Melony has felt her entire life, to the dinner we had in Rio and how my parents were so incredibly loving toward Holly and me and the way Melony kept shrinking further and further into herself. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know she was connecting her dad’s new family with my family, and how everyone is so loving toward each other, but how she never got that from her dad.

  Why didn’t he want to stay?

  Shit, that little girl is wondering all over again why she wasn’t good enough.

  “So what are you going to do?” Paisley asks. “Are you going to go after her?”

  “Fuck yes, I am.” Energy is spiking through me now. It’s not that she doesn’t want to fall
in love with me. I think she already has; she just doesn’t want to admit it because she doesn’t want to get hurt again. “This isn’t going to be a quick fix though. She needs to know that no matter what, I’m here to stay. Do you think you two could hold a party soon?”

  “My birthday is coming up in two weeks. We can hold a little gathering.”

  “That’ll be perfect. That gives me plenty of time to woo her from afar.” I take a bite of my ice cream, feeling energized. “Melony is fucking mine, whether she likes it or not.”

  “You better buy me a good present.” Paisley smirks.

  “If Melony lets me take her home that night, I will buy you whatever you want, sweetheart.”

  “Don’t call her sweetheart,” Reese growls, getting territorial.

  “Cool your dick, man. I’m after someone else.”

  Do my girl justice, Hollis. Make her feel special again.

  I will do right by Carla. I’m coming after you, Melony, whether you like it or not.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  MELONY

  Life seems so black and white without Hollis in it. It’s been a week since I left Rio, and I don’t think I’ve ever been this unhappy. This is why I’ve always avoided getting involved with men, this feeling right here. This feeling of utter loss.

  Yes, it was self-sabotage, I know that, but sooner or later Hollis was going to realize I wasn’t worth the time, and he was going to leave. Took my dad six years, but who knows how long it would take Hollis? He could have anyone. It was better to cut ties now rather than later down the road.

  If only it didn’t hurt like this. If only it didn’t hurt worse than when my dad walked away. If only I could stop thinking about him.

  It’s for the best I convince myself. If anything, it’s in Hollis’s best interest to stay as far away from me as possible. He deserves so much better.

  “I’m not going to say it again, get my lawyer on the phone,” Bellini shouts to Pocket. “You godforsaken jean bag.”

  Pocket scurries off, leaving me alone with Bellini. It wouldn’t be the first time I’m alone with her in a shitty mood. Something has been going on behind the scenes, but I have no clue what it is. I tried asking Paisley a while ago but she was unsure as well.