Single Wide Female: The Bucket List Mega Bundle - 24 Books (Books #1-24) (12 page)

Chapter 8

I felt a hand on my hip. I smiled, thinking that Vincenzo had slipped out of bed and sneaked up on me. His touch reminded me to relax. I closed my eyes and our bodies swayed together. I made sure that my movements were as sensual as they had been the night before, as he had seemed to enjoy them then. In the midst of our dancing the ear buds popped out of my ears.

“That smells so good,” he whispered in my ear and pulled my body close against his. “Is it for me?” he asked.

My eyes popped open. My mouth dropped open and my stomach fluttered with arousal and anxiety. It wasn’t Vincenzo that had been dancing with me at all. It was Max. He must have used his key to let himself in.

“Max!” I shoved him away from me.

He looked confused and a little hurt. “I’m sorry, I really enjoyed the dance,” he sputtered out. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I just didn’t know it was you!”

“Huh?” Max looked terribly confused. “Who else could it be? I’m the only one with a key and we always have breakfast on Saturday morning.” He frowned.

“Oh, Max.” I sighed as I realized he was right. I remembered Vincenzo curled up in my bed and put my finger to my lips. “You have to go,” I whispered and tried to push him toward the door. “Please, you have to go right now.”

“Why?” He shook his head and refused to be moved. “I don’t understand what the problem is.”

“Please, Max. I’ll tell you later. Just leave.” I tried to usher him toward the door once more.

“Is this another one of those ploys to keep me on my toes?” he asked, looking as frustrated as I felt. “Really, Sam, if you didn’t want me to come today all you had to do was tell me.” He shook his head and turned toward the door.

“It’s not that, Max, please.” I groaned as I realized I was really upsetting him. “It’s just that I’m not alone—” I began to explain. Before I could finish getting the words out, another voice spoke over mine.

“Samantha.” Vincenzo’s rich voice called out from my bedroom. “Something is burning!”

Max’s eyes widened as he realized what was happening. But I didn’t have time to explain, because Vincenzo was right, something was burning.

“Oh!” I turned toward the stove, where a plume of smoke had begun forming.

“Sam, you should have just told me,” Max said. “You have someone here.” He shook his head, his face flushed. “How could I be so stupid? Is this all to make me jealous or something?”

I was too focused on the smoke to pay much attention to his words.

I grabbed the pan by the handle, causing my palm to burn. I cursed as I dropped it and spilled half of its blackened contents across the stove.

“Samantha, are you alright?” Vincenzo called out, and I could tell from the sound of his voice that he was heading out into the kitchen. I began to panic. If Vincenzo saw Max
—
if Max saw Vincenzo
—
these things could only happen to me!

“Max, please,” I said as I turned to face him with desperation. “Just go.”

He stared at me for a long moment, as if he was deciding what he really wanted to do. Then he cast a glare in the direction of my bedroom. For an instant I thought he might decide to confront Vincenzo. He turned and walked out of the apartment, and he wasn’t very quiet about closing the door behind him.

“Oh, Samantha,” Vincenzo said as he looked over the remainder of the breakfast I had been preparing. “You shouldn’t have, really.”

“I know,” I sighed as I leaned back against the sink.

I was staring at the door. What had Max meant by making him jealous? Had he meant what I thought he meant? Did it really bother him to see me with another man? If so, what did that mean?

“Here, I’ll make us something,” Vincenzo said as he tossed the pan into the sink.

“No, actually.” My voice wavered. “I think maybe you should go.”

“Go?” he asked and lifted an eyebrow. “Have I done something to upset you?”

“No, of course not. You were
great
,” I said and emphasized the last word. It was true; I was still tingling with the memories of what we had shared. “I just forgot that I had plans this morning. You know we got caught up in the heat of the moment last night
—
”

“I want it to be more than just a moment, Samantha,” he said and stepped close to me. “Don’t you?” He met my eyes intently.

I didn’t know what to say. This morning I had been visualizing our future, opening a restaurant together, having beautiful babies with accents, eating delicious meals every single night.

But then—there was Max.

Max, who looked as if he wanted to burn my apartment down because there was another man sleeping in my bed. Max, whom I had been longing to be with for over ten years, whom I had finally lost all hope of being with. I needed to know what he meant. I needed to know if there was a chance for us.

“I’m sorry, Vincenzo.” I shook my head. “I’m just not really available for a relationship right now.”

“You’re with someone?” he asked, sounding surprised.

“No—It’s not like that. I just
—
”

“I understand.” Vincenzo nodded before I could continue. “I’ll just get my things.”

As I watched him walk back into the bedroom I wondered if I should follow him in, if I should plead for his forgiveness, if I should give whatever spark was between us a chance.

When he stepped back out he met my eyes directly. “Just so you know, I don’t normally do this either,” he said, not looking at all pleased. Then he pushed past me and out the door of my apartment.

As it closed behind him, I realized I didn’t even have his phone number. I certainly couldn’t go back to his class.

I rushed into my room and threw on some clothes. I knew exactly where Max would be going.

Chapter 9

I must have looked like a lunatic as I ran down the sidewalk after Max. But I didn’t care. I wanted an explanation for the way he had behaved at my apartment.

“Max!” I called out as he continued to walk down the street.

I ran fast until I caught up with him. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and refused to stop walking. “Max, what in the world do you have to be mad at me about?” I said, feeling completely frustrated and confused. “Because I had a man in my apartment?”

“You just should have let me know,” Max said with an edge to his voice. “I wouldn’t have walked into the middle of that if I had known what was going on.”

“I forgot,” I said. “I got caught up with Vincenzo. It was so sudden and
—
”

“Vincenzo,” he said and finally stopped walking to look at me. “I bet that isn’t even his real name.”

“Why would you say that?” I asked.

“Don’t you get it? That type of guy sets himself up as a teacher so he can get women to sleep with him.” He shook his head.

“No, that’s not true. Vincenzo wanted more than that—he told me so.”

“And?” Max asked as he rocked back on his heels and studied me. “What about you? Is that what you want?”

Everything in my body, my mind, and my heart wanted me to scream out that it was him I wanted, but I was still feeling nervous about revealing the truth.

“Max, what did you mean when you said I was trying to make you jealous?” I asked as I held his gaze and my breath.

“By bringing a man home, by not canceling breakfast with me,” he muttered and frowned. “I don’t get what you’re asking.”

“I’m asking, why would you be jealous?” I stared deep into his eyes. I waited for some sign that he was going to confess to having feelings for me. But he flicked his gaze away and looked down the block. He pursed his lips and then slowly relaxed as he turned back to look at me.

“You know, Sammy, I shouldn’t be jealous,” he said. “You have every right to be happy. You deserve to be happy.”

I felt my heart begin to race. He was about to say the words I had expected he would—that I’d dreamed he would.

“Max
—
” I started to confess my own feelings, but the words stuck in my throat. He turned to look at me again. I felt his palm glide along the curve of my cheek as he met my eyes.

“I’m sorry, Sam,” he whispered. “I had no right to get upset. I’m sure you just forgot about me in the heat of the moment. That’s okay.”

I swallowed thickly and willed myself not to allow tears to form. I felt as if he was crushing me once more. I had really believed that this time he would see it
—
he would see that we were meant to be together—that we had always been meant to be together.

“Yes,” I said finally. “I just forgot.”

“It’s fine,” he shrugged. “You should get back to Vincenzo.”

“He’s gone,” I whispered.

“Oh.” He nodded a little. “I hope not because of me. I can explain to him that we’re just friends, if you want.”

“No. Don’t worry about it.”

“Well, in that case, do you want to grab some breakfast?”

“I don’t think so,” I mumbled and turned away from him.

I felt his eyes on me as I walked away. I kept hoping that he would call out to me, that he would declare that he was in love with me—that I hadn’t just rejected an amazing, passionate man, for one who would only ever see me as a friend.

In the span of one evening I had gone from the depths of loneliness to the height of passion
—
and right back to loneliness again. I felt like an idiot. I knew that if I stayed at home all I would think about would be Vincenzo, so I headed to work to cover a shift. Fluff and Stuff had become a place of refuge for me. I could always think more clearly with the whir of laundry machines around me.

Chapter 10

The swirl of the washer was a little relaxing, but not enough for me to forget what I had done. My mind kept drifting back to Vincenzo. Vincenzo, with the lovely voice and the amazing touch. Vincenzo, who was the first man I had let near me since my last real relationship. It was so unlike me to bring someone back to my place to spend the night. But it had happened.

I didn’t regret sleeping with Vincenzo, but I did regret the way I had treated him. If the roles had been reversed, I would have been devastated. Maybe Max was right. Maybe Vincenzo really did only teach the class so that he could get women. It had certainly worked with me. But either way, he had chosen to share that intimacy with me, and instead of honoring that, I had tossed him aside at the first hint of Max’s attention. Yet again, I was allowing our years of history to interfere with my daily life. It was hard not to, when it seemed as if every time I was ready to give up, Max managed to toss me a crumb.

“Why so glum, chum?” a voice chimed out as a woman walked into the laundromat.

“Hi, Bee,” I said, still feeling sad as I continued to listen to the swirl of the washer.

“I didn’t think that you were working today,” Bee said with a slight frown.

She had a big laundry basket filled with mostly red shirts and jeans. Bee liked very specific things. She liked her food a certain way, only certain colors of clothing, and only one washer and dryer. She always wore her hair in a snug braid pinned to the base of her head. She never wandered from her routines.

“I wasn’t,” I said as I walked over to the washer that I knew she would want to use. I checked to make sure there was nothing lingering in it and then tossed in a few quarters to start the water flowing. “But I decided to come in and cover a shift.”

“Well, that was nice of you,” she said with a laugh. She shook out each shirt carefully before tossing it into the water. “But why are you
really
here?”

“I had nowhere better to be,” I admitted and slumped down beside the washer once more.

“Is this about Max?” Bee asked with an arched eyebrow.

“Huh?”

“Oh, please, don’t even try to deny it,” Bee said with a smile on her dark-red lips. “It’s written all over your face every time you see him.”

“It is?” I asked and touched my cheek lightly. “I didn’t think it showed.”

“Well, maybe not to everybody.” Bee shrugged. “But I’m not just anybody. I notice things that others don’t. I notice that you are always smiling when Max is around.”

“Not any more,” I said, not bothering to hide my annoyance. “That man drives me nuts.”

“Mm-hm,” Bee said and snapped one of her shirts sharply.

“He does,” I insisted. “He’s with a different woman all the time. He finds something wrong with everyone he dates. He expects everyone to be perfect!”

“Oh, dear.” Bee shook her head as she closed the lid on her washer. “I think you’re in deeper than you realize.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. “He’s the one with the problem.”

“He may be picky.” Bee nodded. “I mean, I have noticed that he is always with a certain type of girl. But I know a little something about needing things to be perfect. Do you think I
want
to wear only red?”

“Well, I assumed so,” I said with a frown.

“No, I’d love to wear any other color,” she said and then walked over to me. “I have a need for things to be in a certain order. Things in my life must always be done a certain way. But I have no real choice in the matter. It’s a compulsion, and I can’t control it. Everything must be perfect.” She sighed. “When I see other people seeking perfection, waiting for things to be just right, I want to shout at them to just be messy. When you get caught up in perfect, it owns you. It steals your entire life from you.”

I gazed into her deep brown eyes. I could see the mixture of pain and honesty there.

“I hear you, Bee,” I said softly.

“Do, my dear,” she said and turned back to her washer. “Because life is so much sweeter when it’s messy.”

That night when I settled in front of my computer to create my blog post I felt so many different things. Elation over the night I had spent with Vincenzo, regret over the night I had spent with Vincenzo. Anger at Max, longing for Max. But most of all, I felt Bee’s advice.

I typed quickly on the keyboard. I titled my blog post:

Learning to Relax and Be Messy

As I revealed my experiences with the cooking class, Vincenzo, and Bee, I felt all of the pieces falling into place for me. My life hadn’t stalled; I had forced it to stop. I had been treading water for years, fearing the possibility that I might drown, when, in fact, I’d been able to swim the whole time.