Page 65 of Learn Your Lesson

It had gone viral.

What I assumed would get me a few sarcastic comments and maybe one or two real pieces of advice turned into thousands of people deeply invested in my little predicament.

They wereespeciallyintrigued after I detailed what happened in the pool last week.

I, of course, had been vague about everything and had changed certain specifics to protect myself.

In my story online, I lived in Wyoming. My boss was a rancher, and I was his ranch hand slash nanny. But I told the truth about what happened in the pool, about how I’d taken my friends’ advice tobe boldand confronted my boss.

About he’d looked like he wanted to eat me right there.

In the good way.

The way one might want to eat a sleeve of Oreos after being on a sugar-free diet for years.

But he’d stopped it. He’d told me Iknewwhat he wasn’t saying.

“We can’t,”he’d whispered against my hair after he’d kissed my forehead.

My fingers floated up to that spot like it still burned as I read through comments that had come in overnight.

It wasn’t just strangers online whom I confided in. No, the girls had asked for an update on Noah just a couple days after the pool incident, to which I’d replied that I’d made a move and he’d turned me down. They’d been content to let it go.

And since my list of friendsoutsideof the new ones I’d made recently consisted of my mother and grandmother, who I knew would haveverystrong opinions on this matter, it had become my favorite part of each day, to pull upRedditand talk to these wise strangers.

And at least the story I’d fabricated forthemwas a bit more similar to the truth.

The advice varied widely, from those telling me to let go of the fantasy and focus on my job, to those who were begging me to test the line with him again. Some swore I’d regret it if we hooked up, that I’d lose my job (which, I confessed in the post, was allowing me to save more money than I ever could have imagined in my life). Others swore that he wanted me just as much as I wanted him, and that if we gave in, we’d end up falling in love, getting married, and having a house full of babies.

I laughed at those — mostly because I knew that option was off the table for me.

I couldn’t fall in love. I couldn’t be in a relationship. I couldn’t have anything with Will Perry because my matriarchy would disown me.

And it might not have made sense to anyone else, but it meant everything to me to have their approval. It meant everything to me to work hard, save money, and provide for myself the way they wished they’d done. With the money I was earning right now, I was opening endless doors of opportunity.

I was close to being able to pay off what was left of my student loans.

And after that, I’d be setting myself up for an easy future — the one they’d always wanted for me.

I wanted to show them that I listened, that I learned from their mistakes, that I was an independent woman with her own career, income, house, and hobbies.

Falling in love with a hot NHL goalie who made more money than God was not the way to do that.

Which left me sighing a bit as I scrolled through the message board because I was racking my brain with one repeating question.

WhatdidI want?

What did I actually expect and desire out of this situation?

I liked Will. He was grumpy, sure, and I was failing miserably at my attempt to make him smile. But I respected him. I admired how he was with his team, with Chef Patel, with his daughter, withme.

I also had never been so sexually frustrated in my entire life than I was after almost three weeks of living with him.

When I was at my little house, I rarely ever felt like this. Once in a blue moon I’d reach for my vibrator, and usually, I’d feel guilty afterward, like I’d committed the ultimate sin against my family and myself.

But here, it was all I could do not to hump my pillow every fucking night to the thought of my boss.

And I didn’t feel dirty about it. I felt…empowered.Especially after last week.