I come perilously close to logging into my old social media accounts. I want so badly to check up on people from my old life. Friends. Old coworkers. Relatives. Mom. But I can’t. I know I can’t. It makes me sad when I think about it. How I had to just vanish from my life and told nobody the truth other than Mom. I don’t want to think about it, but I’m having trouble tonight, all up in my melancholy feelings.
I love my life in San Diego, I really do. But I have a small circle and because it’s so small, I get lonely at times. I know I can’t get into a relationship because I’d have to either put the guy in danger or lie to him.
And I feel like I can’t even lie about it and risk letting myself get caught up with happiness because it might make me careless, and carelessness is something that could get me caught not to mention the risk of people I love getting hurt. No way!
I know better. Thad Steele took great pleasure in explaining to me (in gory detail) what happens to people who fuck his family over, as well as everyone they care about.
Jude hasn’t answered forty minutes later, so I wind up crawling into bed and scrolling through some porn, deciding to have some dirty alone-time, and of course with my luck, I stumble into a wormhole of video after video of a hot guy who reminds me of Jude. I mean, I clicked the menu options looking for guys with blue eyes, dark hair, muscles, and tattoos because I’m craving Jude, the jacked and tatted up bearded man with sexy eyes, a sinfully hot mouth, and who smells better than any man I’ve ever smelled in my entire life.
This guy doesn’t have a beard and not as many tatts. His hair is longer and curly, but he looks enough like Jude it makes me pause. I can’t help but wonder if Jude’s cock is that big. Porn Not Jude has a huge cock. I hope Real Jude doesn’t have a mini peenie. That’d be a crying shame.
I make myself come watching Porn Not Jude dick a girl senseless and this should make me sleepy enough to crash, right?
It doesn’t.
I open another vodka cooler and … I blame my vagina for re-opening the text stream with him again.
Jude: Hey there Mixed Signals.
Oh! I must’ve not heard when he replied. That was twenty-five minutes ago.
Me: What are you doing?
Jude: Doing invoices while listening to some tunes.
Me: Exciting Saturday night then?
Jude: I’ve had more exciting ones thankfully.
Me: I’m all dressed up with no place to go. No one to see me all dolled up. No chance of a happy ending tonight. At least I doubt there’s a chance of that. Unless it’s a lone happy ending. Any suggestions?
Oops. That was forward of me. But that’s who Ally is. She says stuff that seems like it’s without filtering. Right? I’m telling myself that. Though really, it’s not my Ally filter that’s on, it’s my drunk and insatiable vagina that’s the one in charge right now. And it wants what it wants. Jude.
Jude: I’m intrigued but gotta ask who this is.
He did not answer that way, did he? Oh, but he did. And… ouch.
He’s either deleted me from his phone or never saved me, but deleted the old text string. I should’ve refrained. Should’ve talked myself out of the urge to text him.
Whoops.
Me: Ally.
Me: Kingston.
Me: And I’m hurt. You forgot me so easily
Luckily, I’m not so drunk I let myself text all that. I backspace that last line out and wait.
Jude: Ah. Mixed Messages. I get it now. It’s been over half an hour since your text, so I guess the offer expired. Right?
Me: Not necessarily. I might be down for some hate sex. Maybe…
Who am I?
Wait. I’m Ally Fucking Kingston, that’s who I am. And she isn’t afraid to ask for hate sex.
I throw back a big gulp of vodka cooler and say it outload.
“Ally Fucking Kingston, that’s who!”
The thing is, I don’t hate Jude. I probably hate myself right now. That’s the only explanation for my reckless behavior. He deleted me from his phone, meaning he was ready to move on and forget me and here I am texting him again.
Jude: Why are you dolled up? Did your plans change, Vixen?
Me: Vixen?
Hm. Interesting nickname.
Jude: Yup. Vixen. That’s the first name that comes to mind for you. In fact I’m saving that in my phone.
I shake that off. It feels kinda squishy that he has a name like that for me. And I’m now saved in his phone.
Damn, Alyssa…you’re really burying yourself here.
Me: Okay, so truth-flash: not totally dressed up, but I’m feeling overdressed for what I wanna be doing.
Jude: And what would that be?