Chronicles of a Serial Dater - Book 4: A New Adult Romantic Comedy Read online

  Contents

  CoaSD - Book 4

  From the Authors

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Thank you!

  This book is work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. This book contains explicit material and is intended for readers 18 years or older.

  The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademarked owners of any wordmarks mentioned in the following fiction.

  Copyright © 2016 by Adele Huxley

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except in the case of a reviewer, who may quote brief passages embodied in critical articles or in a review.

  All requests should be forwarded to: [email protected]

  Chronicles of a Serial Dater is a series of 7 short stories designed to keep you laughing all summer long, with a new release nearly every week. Mark your calendars with these dates!

  Book 1 - July 13th

  Book 2 - July 27th

  Book 3 - August 3rd

  Book 4 - August 10th

  Book 5 - August 17th

  Book 6 - August 24th

  Book 7 - August 31st

  Bonus online content will also be released with each addition, adding to the interactive fun! Be on the lookout for any chapter ending with this image:

  Believe it for not, all the dates, conversations, and horror stories in this series are real. Readers just like you were kind enough to share their funniest and worst dates for our entertainment. At least something good came out of them! So if you’re reading these and at any point think, “Come on now, this is too ridiculous,” just remember…

  The truth is always stranger than fiction, and nothing is stranger than online dating.

  You can still get in on the fun! If you have a funny/bad/horrible date you’d like to share, or even some hilarious online conversations, email me at [email protected] with the subject “SUBMISSION”

  I was acutely aware I was standing at a fork in the road. I could turn one way and diffuse the argument altogether, which would probably only delay it. Or I could turn the other direction and press on. I chose the latter. I stubbornly, defiantly, decided to really let Anette have it for once.

  My ears rang. I’m not the greatest with confrontation but knew I’d dug myself into this hole. To back down now would mean admitting I’d done something wrong. I thought to change tactics and maybe throw a little water on the fire of this argument.

  “It’s not a horrible name at all. I actually like it,” I replied smugly, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “Right. Okay. Cause that’s the point we should be discussing. The name of the your secret blog.”

  “Whatever. I don’t see what the big deal is,” I replied. “It’s not like I’ve done anything wrong. All these dates have been weird, bizarre, and downright strange to me. I couldn’t vent to you because you wouldn’t understand or maybe even care outside of telling me ‘Welp, just swipe right, onto the next one. Off you go!’”

  “That’s exactly what Lourdes said,” Anette huffed.

  I lost my cool. “You talked about this with Lourdes?”

  Anette leaned forward and got in my face. “You sent both of us the link. What? Did you think we wouldn’t read it or something?”

  I shrugged dismissively. “Maybe a little. At the very least, I didn’t expect you to go digging.”

  “And I didn’t expect you to fuck one of my best friends behind my back,” she snapped.

  The way she felt she had any sense of ownership over my life burned the last shred of control I had. My voice grew in volume as the argument carried on.

  “You’re right. We shouldn’t have done it behind your back.” She muttered in agreement before I could finish my thought. “I should’ve fucked him right in front of you. Since you seem so into giving me advice and running my life, you could’ve lifted and lowered me on his cock like a little puppet. I’m sure you could do it better, right?”

  “Pfft, I’m a lesbian.”

  I arched an eyebrow, jabbing a hole in the armor. “Are you?”

  Anette licked her lips as she rose to the challenge. “Why don’t you ask the gorgeous girl I’m about to screw all night?”

  “Eating one salad doesn’t make you a vegetarian,” I shot back. I wasn’t sure where all the anger was coming from. The way my comments were coming harsh and fast seemed to surprise the both of us. She stared at me in surprise and before she could snap back, I pushed even harder.

  “You know what, Anette? Not all of us get to ride that perfect dating roller coaster like you. Except, no. Yours has become a carnival of booty calls, jumping from bed to bed, gender to gender, changing partners to match your outfits. I’m having a little more trouble than you.”

  “Are you about finished?” Anette turned her nose up in the air and held up her hand, palm out, counting out her points on each finger. “Okay for one thing, what the fuck are you saying? You calling me a hoe or something? You make it seem like I am fuckingeverydamnbody and you know good and damn well that’s not the case. But you’re looking at me? Look at you! What the hell are you doing out there? Just handing out pussy handshakes to everybody? You might as well advertise that shit on your little blog. ‘Friendly vagina, inquire within! I have milkshakes, come to my yard!’

  “And two, it’s sad that you’re so jealous that I have the guts to do what I want and who I want. Don’t you pin your hang-ups on me. You could do that shit too if you had the lady balls to do it. Don’t hate the player,” she added with a flick of her hand. “Oh, and if you need sex tips, don’t come looking for me. I’m not teaching you shit.”

  A thick cloud of emotion grew in the room, the silence almost deafening compared to our loud voices only a moment before. We were lost in the fog of our first major fight and neither of us knew how to find our way out.

  Anette stared at her feet, her words sweet but her tone still heated. “All you had to do was tell me. I would’ve understood.”

  She might’ve been trying to reach a hand out to me, but it felt far from genuine. “Right. Cause you’re so understanding right now.”

  “You lied to me!”

  I pointed a finger in her face, mostly to keep from slapping her. “How the hell do you figure, Anette? How exactly did I lie? Oh, by simply not sharing every damn detail of my life with you?” I shook my head sadly, chewed on a harsh comment, and rephrased it a little so it came out softer. “And you talking about honesty is hilarious. You can’t even admit to yourself how you feel about that girl in there. You don’t have the guts to.”

  She stuffed her hands in her pockets and glanced down the hall toward her bedroom. “That’s not what we’re talking about. You didn’t tell me…”

  “I didn’t have to tell you anything and I still don’t. This is my life. Again with the puppeteering. Let go of my damn strings!”

  “That’s the second time you’ve said that. Puppet strings? Are you kidding?”

  “It’s what it feels like!”

  “You were a puddle of depressed, Kevin-obsessed
goop only a few months ago. Forgive me for wanting you to be happy.”

  “And forgive me for thinking I might be better at planning and living my own life than you,” I drawled sarcastically. “Exhibit A.” I pointed toward her room where her dream girl sat waiting.

  “So this is all part of your master plan? You can screw whoever you want but I apparently need your permission to get down with someone I like?”

  “Whomever.”

  “Are you seriously correcting my grammar right now?” Anette scoffed.

  A timid voice broke through our shouts somehow. “Anette? I think I’m gonna go.” Anette and I turned in unison to see Amie standing near the front door. She held her arm at the elbow and smiled apologetically.

  Anette circled the sofa quickly, her voice softening instantly. “No! No, you don’t have to do that. It’s fine. We’re just working out roommate stuff.”

  “Roommate,” she repeated, looking over to me. “Sounds a little more serious than who hasn’t been doing dishes.”

  I realized she might’ve misconstrued our conversation. “It’s complicated,” I started to say before Anette shot me a death glare.

  “Amie. Boo. Why don’t we both go to bed? We can talk about it in there.”

  She shook her head and stepped around Anette’s advances. “I don’t think so. Sorry. Have a good night.”

  Anette stared at the closed door for a few moments after she left. With a momentary melting of my anger, I softly spoke up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

  She wheeled around on me, her expression contorted with fury. “You’re sorry? Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited to get that girl back here and because of you…”

  “Because of me? I’m not the one who picked a fight!”

  She pressed her lips together in a frown. “You’re absolutely right, of course. You’re just the one fucking Zach and telling the whole world except your best friend and roommate. I’m obviously the one at fault here.”

  “You know, you think you’re such a playa? That you’re just running around playing the game?” I asked, throwing air quotes up at the last part. “You’re not sexually liberated. You’re terrified. You use sex as a way of keeping your emotions locked away, hiding behind random hookups with men you know you’ll never develop feelings for.”

  “And what about her?” she spat, pointing at the front door. “You know I’m into her.”

  “Which is why you should be on your knees thanking me for scaring her off. You were about to turn a girl you actually care about into a one-night-stand you wouldn’t be able to recover from.”

  “No, instead I didn’t get to have sex with her and she thinks she just caught us in some lover’s spat. And if I can’t get laid, you can’t get laid. You have to stop this whole thing with Zach.”

  I thought I sensed an opportunity to convince her things were actually okay. “It’s not even like we’re in a relationship. Sometimes you get an itch that needs to be scratched and that’s just what we’re doing right now. No strings, just sex with someone who respects and cares about me. That’s it. You should be happy I’m having the best sex of my life, regardless of who it’s with. I’m enjoying myself and so is he. The end.”

  Apparently she didn’t see the chance to reconcile. “You do realize when most people feel an itch, it means they have an STD? Put some fucking ointment on that shit and stop fucking your best friend. Can’t you see he cares about you? Why the hell would you choose Zach if you’re doing this whole thing just to find someone else to have sex with? That’s crazy, selfish and fucked up. You’re using him and that’s foul as hell. The only thing that’s gonna come from this is hurt. I’m not interested in being stuck in the middle as you two try to put the pieces back together. Because it will fall apart, you know that right? That’s exactly what’s going to happen, Talia.”

  I stared at her, blinking in disbelief. “You know what? I can’t. I’m done with this shit.”

  A few moments later, I stood in my room seething.

  I’ve never felt simultaneously right and wrong. I guess I’d been so wrapped up in the excitement of hooking up with Zach, of finally getting laid, I hadn’t thought what Anette might actually think. And then sending that blog post… maybe on a subconscious level, I wanted to get caught. It wasn’t like me to hide things from my friends like that.

  At the same time, I was an adult. I could screw and write and do whatever the hell I wanted without checking in with another human being. The fact she felt entitled to that pissed me off each time I thought about it.

  I don’t want to hear, talk to, see, or even be in the same apartment as her, I thought.

  “Fuck it,” I muttered when I finally made up my mind. I checked the time and figured he wouldn’t mind me showing up unannounced at any hour.

  I stormed into the bathroom and grabbed my toothbrush, slamming the door behind me. Anette stepped from the kitchen into the living room just as I was about to reach for the front doorknob.

  “We need to talk about this,” she started. Her attempt at playing peacemaker was too little, too late.

  I clenched my teeth. “You’ve made yourself abundantly clear.”

  “I’m only looking out for you. I don’t want you to…” She trailed off, a realization holding her tongue. She glanced at my hand, then the door, and put it together. “You were going to go up there, weren’t you?”

  “No,” I said, turning to face her. “I am going up there.”

  She pressed her lips together and looked to the ceiling. “You are just a seven-layer-dip of stubborn, aren’t you?”

  “Ha!”

  She shook her head and stomped into the kitchen, rifling through a drawer before banging it shut. Snip. Snipsnipsnip. With a pair of scissors raised above her head and pointed at me, she cut the air.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I sneered.

  “Cutting the strings. That way you can’t use them to find me when you want to come crawling back.”

  “Good!”

  “Good.”

  I couldn’t believe how much I hated her in that moment. It was like a pod-person had taken over my best friend’s body.

  I wrenched the door open and heard her call out. “Tell your little fuck buddy I said, ‘What’s up?’”

  I slammed the front door and plodded barefoot up the stairs. I imagined stomping on Anette’s smug face with each footfall. Still fired up, I pounded my fist on Zach’s door. A moment later, he flung it open, looking panicked and half-awake.

  “Wha-what’s wrong?” he blinked, wiping his face with his palm. He held a sheet around his waist and looked up and down the hall.

  “Nothing,” I snapped, pushing my way into the apartment and closing the door behind.

  “What time is it? Are you okay?”

  Somehow my anger had morphed into desire, a fiery rage turned heat. “I will be once you’re inside me,” I purred. I casually pulled my top up, exposing my bare chest as I took another step forward. I hid the toothbrush in the discarded clothing and dropped it to the floor.

  Zach’s eyebrows shot up as his gaze fell to my breasts. “That can be arranged,” he smiled, dropping the sheet.

  I pushed him back against the wall, stepping out of my shorts with a quick movement. I felt like a woman possessed, dirty talk falling from my lips like it was the most natural thing in the world. “I want to taste you,” I said as I pinned him with one hand.

  His mouth fell open as he leaned his head back. “Again, I’m happy to oblige.”

  With a deliberate gesture, I made a big show of gliding my hands down his torso. I traced the line of muscle at his hip down to the dark patch of hair, teasing, testing. I looked up and met his eyes as my hand dipped further. Avoiding the now throbbing issue between us, I felt the soft skin on the crease of his thigh. Watching his reactions was hypnotic. I wanted to make more.

  I kissed a line down his body until I sank onto my knees. Without touching him, I peered up and gave him a seductive smile
.

  “You can wake me up like this any time,” he breathed.

  I smirked and took him into my hand. After a few strokes, a tiny glittering drop of precum emerged on the tip. Eyes locked on his, I dipped my tongue forward and gave it a long, sweeping lick. Zach slammed his head against the wall with a long moan.

  That sound was an auditory aphrodisiac. It made me feel like a powerful goddess, a woman in the prime of her sexual glory. Zach was the lucky mortal I chose to service.

  I took him fully into my mouth, my hands, lips, and tongue working in unison. His groans fueled my need. I know exactly what I’m doing. I’m completely in control here, I thought as his fingers threaded behind my head. Anette can just fuck right off.

  I wasn’t thinking about Anette while blowing Zach, not exactly. Nor was I having sex with him just to spite her. But I can’t deny there wasn’t an element of that involved. I was pissed off at her and myself for rising to her provocation.

  To be fair, I was probably more distracted by the argument than I’m letting on. I missed a down stroke and accidentally grazed a tooth along the sensitive ridge on his cock.

  “Ahhh,” he cried, bucking his hips away. His painful cry was most definitely an anti-aphrodisiac.

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” I said as I jumped to my feet.

  “It’s all good.” The wincing expression and gritted teeth told another story.

  I kissed his chest, running my fingers down his side back to the hardness between his legs. After a few test strokes, I knew he was ready to continue.

  I took a step back and pointed to the bedroom. “Get in there, on your back, condom on.”

  Zach’s eyes widened and glittered with amusement. “Yes ma’am!”

  I’m pretty sure if he’d called me ‘mistress’ the whole mood would’ve been killed on the spot.

  I gave him a couple seconds head start and followed in after, stripping bare along the way. I found him obediently waiting on the bed.

  Without a word, I climbed on top and guided him inside. Balancing myself on his chest, I closed my eyes and lost myself in the sensation. I’d never experienced the combustible blend of anger and lust, but I was fully engulfed now. Fingernails dug into his flesh. I slapped his hands away when he grabbed my hips, pinning them above his head.