QuarterLifeFling (5 page)

There was a JUDE-shaped hole in my phone and I knew it.
Maybe it would always be there. Maybe he’d be back tomorrow morning like it
wasn’t anything. I was no expert on relationships anyway. I finally went to
bed, too tired to entertain any more what-ifs.

When I woke up, I was still alone and the phone was ringing.
I flung myself at it, but it was only the receptionist’s recorded wake-up call.
I listened to it with a sinking heart, then got out of bed. I didn’t feel like
eating, but it was my last day at the retreat and I wanted to see Zara one last
time.

I stripped out of my oversized t-shirt and lady boxers and
took a quick shower. It was so sunny outside my hair was half-dry by the time I
reached the main hall. There was no sight of any landscapers on the way there.

“It’s granola and berries again today,” Zara said by way of
greeting. “How was last night?”

“Jude was a no-show, actually.” I kept my body language as
nonchalant as possible, but my voice had a little hitch to it. Stupid emotions.
This was worse—far worse—than all the last days at Girl Scout camp combined.
Ramped up as they were, teenage hormones didn’t hold a candle to the way I felt
about Jude’s wordless departure.

“Wait—what? Why?” Zara turned her full attention on me.

“I don’t know. He got a text yesterday and seemed kind of
torn up about it. He said he’d see me again but his Harley was gone all
evening.”

“I’m really sorry to hear that.” Zara’s sympathy meant a
lot. I mustered up a smile, appreciating her presence.

“Thanks. I’m leaving today, anyhow. Got to get back to work.
It’s a fairly new job, so I can’t afford to slack.”

“Do you regret coming here?”

“No,” I said instantly. It was the truth—I didn’t. Even if
Jude’s interaction with me had been limited to a one-night stand, this fling
would have been worth it. The only thing I regretted was leaving on an uncertain
note.

Mind-blowing sex or no, what I had with Jude wasn’t a real
relationship. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other and we talked far into
the night about everything ranging from condoms to high school to favorite TV
shows…but we lived in different parts of the state. Chico was a pretty long
drive from the Bay Area and we had our separate lives to deal with.

But maybe it was better this way, with no long, drawn-out
goodbyes. No promises we wouldn’t keep.

“Want some strawberries?” Zara asked.

“No thanks. I hate the seeds getting stuck in my teeth.” I
ate the last few bites of granola. “I’m going to go back and start packing.”

“You all right?” Zara asked.

I dredged up another smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just give me a
few days to get over this. I always knew it wasn’t going to last.”

“Wait, did he
say
it wasn’t going to last?”

“Not in so many words, but I’ve been dumped twice and I know
how to read the writing on the wall.” I had to shut myself down quick or I’d
start crying.

Zara wagged her index finger. “Nuh-uh. You’ve been
blindsided by him upping and leaving, but that’s no excuse not to leave your
number and email address with me. I’ll give the info to Salvador and ask him to
pass it on. And,” she paused for breath, “if he doesn’t pass it on, I’ll spank
him. He likes that.”

That startled a giggle out of me. “All right. I’ll leave my
info, but I won’t expect anything.”

Not expecting anything was always the easiest route.
Although I had to admit that had been the downfall of my last two relationships.
Eventually both of them had petered out through lack of motivation, going from
dinner-and-a-movie to just a movie to a DVD to…well, nothing. Perhaps short and
sweet really
was
better.

Once I was finished packing, I loaded my BMW and came back
to hug Zara. She was here for another week. Guided meditation and the general
environment of the retreat really seemed to be helping her deal with grief. And
of course there was Salvador.

Goodbyes said, I gave in to the impulse to walk all the way
to the staff parking lot. No Harley awaited me, but I smiled as I remembered
that moonlit ride. Nothing could take that memory away from me.

It was long past checkout time before I could bring myself
to get into the car. Before driving off, I sat checking all the texts I’d
missed, the outside world slowly coming back to me. There were a lot of words
but I really hadn’t missed all that much.

Unable to delay any longer, I finally started the engine and
began the long drive home.

* * * * *

The wind coming into his face through his helmet visor
caused his eyes to stream. They weren’t tears—he’d cried them all last night at
the vet’s. Pepper was dead.

The old retriever had clung to life for several hours after
Jude came home, but he knew that the dog wasn’t going to make it through the
night without suffering. So he’d had to locate a vet with late office hours and
drive Pepper in his brother’s truck up north to someone who could put him down
humanely.

Upon returning to the retreat, he had found Alanna gone. The
one bright spot in this whole mess was the fact that she’d left her number and
email with Salvador’s new girl. But Jude had gone one step further, using his
free run of the retreat to access the files on Alanna Shelby.

He knew a simple phone call or email wouldn’t be enough. He
had to see her in person. He had to know whether this was more than just a
fling.

As he raced down the highway, he sincerely hoped it was.

* * * * *

I walked into a clean apartment, blinking in brief
astonishment. I hadn’t left things this tidy. Even the bed was made. There was
a note on the counter from Mom, and I read it with a smile despite my heartache
over leaving Jude.

I slumped onto the couch, flipping the laptop open. With no
way of contacting him, I was helpless to change the situation. That should have
provided closure to the issue, made things easier to accept. I wouldn’t be able
to subject Jude to plaintive emails or phone calls—or worse, drunk-dialing.
This way it was over, done and dusted, with no way back.

And I felt utterly awful about that.

Fuck it, I was going to order a pizza. I picked up the
phone, arranging a large pepperoni, extra cheese, to be delivered in twenty
minutes. I really didn’t feel like cooking tonight.

While waiting, I checked on random gossip and read
Charlotte’s emails. She was getting better and wanted to hear everything about
Daydream when I was ready to tell her.

I definitely wasn’t ready.

The rumble of an engine outside heralded the pizza’s
arrival. I answered the door barefoot, clad in a frumpy t-shirt and jeans that
had seen better days. At least I would spend this Friday night comfortable
physically—if not emotionally. Tears welled up.

Great timing—breaking down just as I opened the door. I
peered at the delivery man’s chest through watery eyes. “Thanks,” I mumbled,
and handed over a twenty.

“You’re welcome, babe. Mind if I come in and have a piece?”

My head snapped up at the familiar baritone voice. The tears
fell down my cheeks, clearing my vision. “J-Jude?”

“Hey, why are you crying?” He came in as I stepped back to
let him by, setting the pizza and his helmet on the table before turning to me.
He wiped away the tears with his thumbs and I closed my eyes, luxuriating in
his touch.

“I thought we’d broken up.” I hiccupped the last word and
wished I could retract the entire sentence. “I mean, not broken up… Our fling
came to an end. We were never going out, I know.”

“Our fling?”

“Our four-night stand or whatever it was.” I kept my gaze
down, still digesting the fact that he was
here
. And I really didn’t
want to drive him away by demanding any sort of commitment.

“Wait, was it really just a four-night stand to you?” His
voice sounded kind of pained, and I looked up in surprise. His eyes were red,
whether from wind or emotion I couldn’t tell.

“No,” I whispered, knowing he deserved the truth. “It was
more than that.”

That was all the excuse he needed, apparently, to crush me
to his chest. His arms shook as he held me close. “I’m really sorry I stood you
up last night. My dog was pretty sick and I had to rush home to be with him
while the vet put him to sleep.”

“Pepper?”

“Yeah.”

“God, I’m really sorry. Are you okay?” What a stupid thing
for me to say. Of course he wasn’t okay. And here I was assuming he’d broken up
with me. As if I were the center of the universe or something.

“I’ll be fine. I just don’t want to be home right now,
thinking I hear Pepper walking around. I can’t deal with his stuff yet either.
His water bowl and leashes. And the job at Daydream’s over too, so I can’t stay
there. So I went on a really long ride after getting your details from Zara.”
He gave me a lopsided grin.

“Stay with me,” I said.

His arms tightened. “You’d be okay with me spending the
night?”

“Or longer, if you’d like.” The words hung between us,
easily destroyed.

“I’d like that.” His hands slid up my shirt, and he huffed
in amusement when he found me braless again. “There are still a few types of
condoms we have yet to try.”

I backed up slowly, leading him toward the bedroom. My bed
wasn’t going to remain neat and tidy much longer by the look of things. “What
haven’t we tried?”

He pulled a couple of packets from his pocket. “Flavored or
studded?”

“Studded.”

The moment I made my choice he was kissing me again,
shucking his leather jacket as I stepped out of my jeans. I helped him with his
pants, both of us scrambling to get the condom on before we couldn’t wait any
longer. Then he was bearing me down onto the bed, almost ripping my shirt off
in his haste.

He dipped lower, taking one breast into his mouth, my nipple
tightening as he sucked hard. Then he went lower still, and I arched off the
bed with need. At this rate I was going to lose control fast. And keep losing
it, if I knew anything about Jude.

He pinned my thighs open and I closed my eyes, sinking into
ecstasy as his tongue pleasured me. When I was close, I reached out to grip his
head, shamelessly holding him close as I came.

The neighbors were going to have something to talk about at
this rate. But I didn’t care, my head spinning as he braced himself and plunged
inside me. He closed his eyes as he fucked me hard and fast, drawing my legs up
so they rested on his shoulders.

“Alanna—fuck, I needed this. I need you.”

“I need you too.” That ended in a gasp, and then all I could
do was moan. My eyes squeezed shut as the second orgasm took me, so hard on the
heels of the first one that I was completely drained by the time the
aftershocks quit happening.

Jude cried out my name, half-collapsing as he finished. His
weight was warm and welcome, and I held him close as he remained inside me.
Relaxing for the first time all day, I inhaled his smell—masculine, mixed with
the faint smell of leather and aftershave—and thanked my lucky stars he’d been
ballsy enough to get my address and come find me.

I sighed in contentment. If this were a quarter-life crisis,
it could last forever as far as I was concerned.

Clare Murray was born and raised in the San Francisco Bay
Area, living aboard a boat with her parents until the age of three. She has a
degree in Journalism and has worked in libraries in both California and London.
In 2006 she moved to England, where she now lives happily with her husband and
two children.

Clare welcomes comments from readers. You can find her
website and email addresses on her
author
bio page
at
www.ellorascave.com
.

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Quarter-Life Fling

ISBN 9781419903601

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Quarter-Life Fling Copyright © 2013 Clare Murray

Edited by Raelene Gorlinsky

Cover design by Syneca

Cover photography by Nefalls – Remy Muser/shutterstock.com

Electronic book publication October 2013

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