Page 8 of Hot Four Teacher (The Lawson’s #4)

Chapter eight

This is how I Die

Michelle

M y eyes slowly open as I try to take in my surroundings. Everything takes forever to come into focus, and when I can see, I’m confused as to why I’m in the living room.

And as I look down, I’m confused as to why I’m naked.

Sitting up, I glance around, seeing the trash can and water bottle. Suddenly, it all comes screaming back to me.

The bar.

The booze.

Dane.

Oh, good lord! I cover my face in embarrassment just thinking about my actions last night. I kissed him. And the kiss was…everything. But then, I took off my pants…and my shirt…and my bra. Oh my gosh, Dane saw my boobs.

I am never drinking again. I clearly can’t be trusted around alcohol.

Scooting to the edge of the couch, I feel my head starting to pound. It pounds so hard I get double vision.

This is it.

This is how I die.

I need to get up and go take a shower…or swallow about thirty aspirin. Something that will make me feel better.

I have no idea how long it takes, but I finally manage to drag myself off the couch and into the bathroom.

Maybe I’ll be back out. Maybe I won’t. Right now, the odds are about fifty-fifty.

***

After standing in the shower until all the hot water runs out, I get out, put on some sweats, and head into the kitchen for some coffee. My head still pounds, but hopefully, the coffee and meds I just took help.

As I walk through the living room, there’s another pounding. It takes me a moment to realize that it’s not just in my head. It’s someone at the door.

“Why?” I groan out loud. The pounding intensifies, so I yell, “I’m coming! Keep your pants on!”

I open the door to see Ronnie leaning against the doorframe, holding two large coffees. “What if I don’t want to keep my pants on?”

“Too bad,” I grumble as she hands me one of the Styrofoam cups.

“Oh, calm down, buttercup. I just came over to check on you.”

I turn around and head back inside, prompting her to follow me. “I feel like death.”

“Aw, honey, I’m sorry. I probably should have cut you off after the first fishbowl. You need to learn to walk before you can run.”

“The only place I have been running to is the bathroom.” Looking over at her, I ask, “How is that you look that good after a night of drinking?”

“I always look this good,” she jokes. “The alcohol fuels me rather than brings me down.”

“Sounds like you may need to go to some sort of meeting.” I smile.

“Maybe later. But first, I need to hear all about your night. Did you get your cage rattled?”

“Well, my sweet sister, let me tell you all about my night.”

She gets comfortable on the couch, kicking off her shoes and tucking her feet underneath her butt. “Don’t skip any details…especially dirty ones.”

“I went over and started talking to him. Apparently, the rum made me super brazen, and I told him I hadn’t been laid in a while and I could use a few orgasms.”

Her eyes go wide. “You didn’t.”

“I definitely did. He suggested we sit down to talk for a while and then he’d give me as many orgasms as I wanted.”

“Whoa! Smooth!”

“No joke. I’m getting a little excited just thinking about it.”

She asks, “So, how many did he give you?”

“Nope. Not yet. You’re getting ahead of yourself and will ruin the story.”

“Sorry.”

I take a long sip of coffee, making her wait even longer.

“After we finished our drinks, we came back here…and we kissed.”

Ronnie looks so excited she may burst. “How was the kiss?”

“Amazing. Quite literally perfect. And then…he…held my hair back while I threw up.”

Her face falls. “Oh. Uh…well, that was nice of him to hold your hair.”

“Yes, it was. Dane is a ridiculously nice guy. He didn’t even try to take advantage of me when I started taking off my clothes.”

She chokes on her coffee. “You did what?”

“You heard that right. After I yacked, I decided I didn’t want to wear pants anymore, so I took them off.”

“Yikes.”

“I’m not done.”

“Dear God.”

I go on. “He got me settled on the couch, and when he went to go get me some water and a trash can, I took off my top.”

“Oh…”

“And my bra.”

“And he didn’t try to get some?”

“No,” I reply. “He was super respectful and didn't even try to look.”

“Wow. Sounds like a good guy. When are you going to see him again?”

“Ronnie, didn’t you hear any of the story I just told?”

“Yeah. What about it?” She asks.

“I highly doubt we are ever going to see each other again. It’s not like I was coherent enough for us to exchange numbers. I passed out pretty hard. I’m just glad he didn’t rob me or anything while I was out.”

“He didn’t try to even look at your tits or ass. I don’t think he would’ve tried to rob you.”

“I’m not sure if those two things are mutually exclusive.”

We sit quietly for a moment before she says, “I’m sorry, Mich. I’m sure you will find someone next time we go out.”

“Next time?” My eyes about bulge out of my head. “No, there will be no next time.”

“Why not? If you remember, this was your idea. You wanted to go out and have fun.”

“I’m aware of that. And I also know that I had way too much fun last night. I think the universe is telling me I should stay home.”

She sighs. “I think you’re putting way too much stock in cryptic messages that the universe may or may not be trying to send you.”

“So what?”

“So, everything isn’t a message from the universe. It’s okay to live your life however you want to.”

“Eh, I think I’m okay with my life the way it is.”

She sighs. “Sometimes, it seems like you’re a lost cause.”

“Glad you finally see it. Now, maybe you’ll leave me alone.”

“Don’t bet on it.” She winks. “Admit it. You had fun last night.”

I don’t really want to say it out loud, but she’s right.

I did have fun with Dane. That kiss was enough to make me feel things I haven’t felt in years.

I was one-hundred percent ready to go further, but I doubt I would have that same confidence when I’m not fueled by alcohol.

I wouldn’t be that same woman he agreed to go home with last night.

I’m sure the real me would be far more underwhelming.

I say, “Okay, yes, I had a good time, but I don’t plan on making it a habit. I’ve got a daughter and a life.”

Her face scrunches up. “Well, you have one of those two things.”

“Shut up, Veronica,’ I say, pulling out her government name.

“Michelle, I’m going to get serious for a moment.”

Oh, lord.

“Do you want me to grab the soap box for you to do this speech on?” I ask.

“No, the couch will be fine.” She pats me on the knee before continuing.

“Mom was talking to me the other day about you, and–”

I cut her off. “You guys were talking about me?”

“Can I just get out what I need to say, and then, you can be mad about whatever you want?”

“Fine,” I concede.

“Mom told me that you said that you’re completely giving up on love.”

I roll my eyes. Her words last night are making more sense. “Okay, I did say that, but in my defense, I was halfway through my second piece of cake, and I may have been on a bit of a sugar high.”

“Sugar high or not, it was something that took Mom by surprise.” She pauses a moment to sip her coffee. “You have always believed in love. You thought Prince Charming would show up on a white horse and carry you off into the sunset. When did you stop believing in that?”

“How about when reality set in? I got a pretty big wake up call when that pregnancy test turned positive. And an even bigger one when the father who promised to be my Prince Charming ran away as fast as he could.”

She shakes her head back and forth. “You still believed in happily-ever-after more recently than that.”

“Maybe. But the two relationships I had after Danny both ended in failure.”

“So what?” She asks. “Most people have to date more than a few to find the one.”

“But I don’t want to have a parade of men in and out of Eve’s life.”

She pats me on the leg again. “You’re a great mom for that. But we all worry when Eve leaves, you’ll be all alone.”

“Good grief. You sound like Eve.”

“She gets all of her wisdom from her favorite aunt.” She winks.

“Yeah, she really does take after Liz.”

She pokes me. “Not funny. Look, I know you said you don’t want a big thing like we had last night, but maybe just be open to the idea of something more…even if it’s something small.”

“Okay, okay.” I concede, not sure if I really mean it.

We sit in silence for a minute or so before I say, “Remember when you used to travel the world and were never home?”

“Yeah.”

“Good times. I miss that.”