shake it off.

Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday I was swamped at work since I was in charge of the entire office while Dave and Diana were gone. Nothing crazy really happened, but it seemed like everyone suddenly had all these random ass questions that I didn’t have the answers to. I winged it though and nothing blew up so I think we’re good.

On Wednesday evening, I wanted to let loose from my serious week so I met Kendra, Preston and Dillon for dinner and drinks. I got a baby caeser and a huge pitcher of sangria for the table and immediately chugged an entire glass. Kendra was groaning about how stressful her job has become and now she’s questioning being a lawyer all together and Preston, being Preston, calmed her down in his soothing Kris Jenner voice. Then he ordered us all shots.

Brady texted me at around 7:30 when he got off and I invited him. Dillon started telling us about how he recently met a modeling scout who wants him to do a nude test shoot this weekend. I told him that it sounds sketchy, but he assured me that it is completely legit. I let him know that I want to see the photos when he’s finished though.

By the time Brady arrived, I was tipsy, but not quite drunk.

“Oh my God, hiiiiiii!” I squealed, jumping up to hug him.

We sat down and I poured him a glass of sangria while I filled him in on what we were talking about.

“So does posing nude seem normal for a first time test shoot?” I asked.

“I’m not familiar with that industry so I’m not sure,” Brady answered. I rolled my eyes at his politically correct answer. Just agree with me.

For the next half an hour we drank and talked about random stuff. I excitedly asked everyone if they heard about how the US Ebola patient had died and the extreme precautionary measures they were taking to dispose of his body. Kendra asked me to stop because it was making her lose her appetite. Rude.

I was complaining to Brady about my week when the host led a group of three older people to the table next to us. One of the men called Brady’s name.

“Hello!” Brady stood up to greet him. They all shook hands and then Brady introduced me to one of the lead surgeons from the hospital and his wife who is a nurse at the hospital.

“Wow Brady, you’ve really done well for yourself, huh?” the surgeon, George, said and he nudged Brady and winked at me.

Brady shrugged all sheepishly and I stood there like a trophy wife while they talked for a little bit. George kept trying to bring me into the conversation which was nice, but sometimes I’m better seen than heard (I’m sure we can all agree).

We sat back down and ordered more drinks and food. Kendra, Preston, Dillon and I were talking and laughing really loudly and George kept leaning over to our table to comment and laugh with us. I was sitting closest to him so I was getting most of his attention and I could smell on his breath that he had enjoyed some adult beverages himself. George kept saying my name and commenting on how I was eating my zucchini fries. If our significant others weren’t sitting on either side of us, I would think he was actually flirting with me. Definite creepy old man vibe.

At one point after I was drunk, I was taking a selfie with Brady on my phone. I started reviewing the picture and George said, “You don’t want to take a picture with me, Reese?”

I giggled and turned the camera back on to take a picture with him. As soon as I snapped the picture, he turned his head to kiss me on the cheek. Ew. Too far.

That “Shake It Off” song by Taylor Swift came on and Dillon screamed, “This is my fucking jam!”

He stood up and grabbed Preston and me and we ran to the little dance floor in the restaurant. On weekend nights, the place turns into a bar/club, but this was Wednesday so no one was dancing. Except us. Yolo.

I don’t know how, but I knew every word to that ridiculous ass song. I can’t even remember hearing it more than one time prior to this incident. Brady had his back to me and was talking to George, who was watching us. As the song was ending I skipped back to our table and shook it off a little bit in front of George before sitting back down between him and Brady.

About half an hour later, Kendra decided she had to go so we started wrapping our evening up.

“I took the el here, can I go home with you?” I purred in Brady’s ear.

“Sure,” he said, not looking at me.

George insisted on hugging me before we left since we are besties now and his wife gave me a tight smile. She probably needs to keep him on a tighter leash.

The ride to Brady’s was silent, but I didn’t notice/care because I was too busy SnapChatting and Facebooking.

When we got inside and to his room, Brady said, “Are you even going to apologize for what you just did?”

“Whaaattt?” I whined, looking at him in utter confusion. What I did?

“You embarrassed me,” he said.

“I was just having fun!” I said innocently.

“Of course you were. Do you care about anything or anyone besides yourself?”

I opened my mouth to say something, but I actually didn’t have an answer to that.

“I don’t even know what the fuck goes on in your head sometimes.”

“Umm, ooookay,” I said slowly. I don’t like being on the receiving end of a confrontation. Especially when drunk. The tears were already threatening to form. “I guess I’m going to leave.”

“Yeah, maybe you should,” Brady said hastily.

I spun on my heel and marched out, but it wasn’t until I got outside that I realized I didn’t have my car. I thought about going back inside and apologizing so I could pass out in Brady’s warm bed, but that’s just not me. I trekked to the bus stop and went home to cry.

And no, we haven’t talked since.

weekend with brunter (brady + hunter).

Did everyone else assume Brady’s brother was going to be gangly and awkward with huge glasses and weird hair? I sure did.

On Friday evening, Brady was going to dinner with his brother, Hunter, but afterward we were all going out. I went to Kendra’s to hang out for a few hours, but also search her closet because I lost a pair of boots and I knew she stole them. I actually haven’t been to Kendra’s much since John moved in because all of his shit has taken over her little apartment. When Kendra first moved in, I helped her decorate and pick out furniture so she had the most adorable, Victorian inspired Old Town apartment. Now John’s freaking bike is in the living room and the place smells like oatmeal. I grabbed my boots (knew it) and got the hell out of there.

I packed an overnight bag and headed to Brady’s to get ready and to pregame. Imagine my surprise when Brady led me to the kitchen to meet his brother and a giant was standing there drinking a beer.

“Reese, this is Hunter,” Brady said introducing us.

His brother stuck out his paw for me to shake and said, “Nice to finally meet you, Reese. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

He just looked like his name was Hunter. Y’all are going to crucify me for saying this, but he is very, very good looking. He was at least 6’3 (probably taller) with a coarse, but maintained beard and his hair in a low man-bun type thing. He reminds me of Thor, but much more granola, like he wears Birkenstocks and lives in a camper. I shook his hand, which was easily three times larger than mine, and he gave me a knowing kind of smirk. Probably because he’s fully aware that I lied about being pregnant and made a fool of myself in front of their parents. Suddenly I felt really self-conscious.

“Hi,” I squeaked.

“Do you like whiskey?” Hunter asked.

“Um, it’s okay,” I replied. I like all alcohol (obvi), but whiskey definitely isn’t my go-to.

“I was telling Brady, I have this whiskey from the 19th century. It’s insane. It’s not even legal to own anymore,” he explained and a fifth of dark, dark whiskey materialized in his hand.

“How did you even get it on the plane?” I asked.

He glanced at me and smiled slyly before pouring three glasses.

“To a good night?” Hunter cheersed looking from Brady to me.

We were drinking the whiskey straight with no ice or anything and it burned. It had a licoricey flavor and it was really strong. I felt dizzy after only one sip. Whoa. Had to go easy on that stuff.

I took my drink to Brady’s room to get ready. I decided to wear jeans, a Derek Lam tank and booties with my hair down. After one glass of that old ass whiskey, I was already pretty turnt and dancing around the duplex.

We took a cab to the bar and met Carly and Chris there. Apparently I was the only one who was affected by Hunter’s tainted alcohol and I skipped to the bar to order us shots (jaeger bombs obviously). Even though I was being a little crazy, Brady didn’t ask me to calm down. Probably should have though.

The night started to get kinda blurry, but I remember talking a lot. I was standing at the bar with Brady telling him about the time I was so scared in a haunted house that I asked them to just kill me, when my mother called me. It’s like she has some sort of radar that lets her know when I’m belligerently drunk. I declined her call and she immediately called back.

“My mom’s blowing up my phone, she’s so fucking weird,” I told Brady.

“Perhaps it’s something important,” he said.

Just when he said that my mom texted me, “Call me babe. It’s important.”

Naturally I thought the worst like my dad was in a car accident or one of my grandparents was dead. I told Brady I was going to call her back and pushed my way outside to the fresh air. To my surprise, Hunter was standing at the curb next to a food cart.

“What’s up?” he greeted me.

I waved and dialed my mom back.

“Hey love,” she answered. “I have your Tory Burch wedges here. Do you mind if I borrow them tonight? I’m going to Flying Saucer with the girls.”

“Seriously, Mom? That’s what was so important?” I practically yelled. “I don’t even wear Tory Burch anymore!”

“So you don’t mind?”

I was so irritated at her for making me panic and think something was wrong at home. Plus she borrows my things without asking all the time so I don’t know why she was suddenly acting like she needs permission.

“Bye Mom! Love you,” I said and hung up.

“My mom is nuts,” I said to Hunter, just in case he was wondering. “What are you doing out here?”

“Aren’t I allowed to enjoy this beautiful weather?”

This was sarcasm because it was really chilly and windy as hell. We started talking about how he lives in San Francisco which has nice weather, but not nearly as nice as like SoCal. We somehow got to talking about Brady and me and I bravely asked what Brady has told him about me. I was preparing for the worst (I caused drama, I was an alcoholic, I corrupted him), but to my surprise Hunter said, “He told me that he’s in love with you.”

I was not expecting him to say that at all and I probably looked like I swallowed a goldfish.

“I know, I was surprised too,” Hunter said. “He’s so private about that kind of stuff. I only knew about the last girl he dated because my parents told me.”

The last girl he dated. Anna or whoever?

“I think he was just a little bit freaked out,” he continued.

Hunter’s confession actually freaked me out. I know Brady and I have said that when we’re high, but I didn’t think he really felt that way. Even though I was drunk, I got embarrassed and felt weird that Hunter told me that. If Brady wanted me to know, he would express it – sober.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” I asked Hunter to take the attention off me.

He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lit one.

“There’s a girl. Dom – Dominique. She’s the love of my life,” Hunter said. “I haven’t told anyone about her though.”

“Why haven’t you told anyone?” I wanted to know.

“I don’t want to give my family the chance to disapprove of her. We’re going to elope.” Hunter offered the cigarette to me and I took it.

“Why would anyone disapprove?” I asked.

“Why wouldn’t they? Generally speaking, my parents just…suck.”

I nodded, taking a drag. I don’t know them well, but I could see how his parents would disapprove of his whole San Francisco life. But from what Brady told me, I assumed he and their mom were close. “When are you getting married?”

“Soon. Don’t tell Brady.”

I told him that his secret is safe with me. We passed the cig back and forth a few times until it was gone. I knew Brady was probably looking for me so I left Hunter out there and went back inside. I found Brady exactly where I’d left him by the bar. I threw my arms around and kissed him because 1. I was drunk and 2. We are in love!

“Is everything okay with your mom?” he asked.

“Yeah, she’s just annoying,” I said dismissively.

Brady said that I smelled like smoke and I quickly (probably too quickly) told him that a guy next to me outside was smoking. Which isn’t a lie. We hung out and drank for a little while longer before getting food from a food truck (barf) and cabbing home.

I woke up on Saturday morning and made everyone hot chocolate with Baileys because it was freezing. Brady and Hunter were sitting at the dining room table talking and at first I just sat there browsing Instagram until I heard them say something about Ebola being in the United States.

“Wait, what’s Ebola?” I asked. I’d heard people talking about it in passing, but I thought it only affected people in Africa or whatever.

“It’s a deadly virus that is spread through bodily fluids. Your kidneys and liver shut down and you bleed from every orifice in your body,” Brady said. “A man recently traveled to Liberia and contracted it.”

“He lied about being in contact with anyone with Ebola and brought it back with him. Now he’s being quarantined, but they didn’t diagnose him at first. They gave him antibiotics and sent him home,” Hunter added.

“Imagine how many hundreds of people he could’ve infected within that time. They’re also trying to hunt down everyone who was on the plane with him and contain them.”

“They decontaminated his apartment and sent his family to a confidential location, but he could have spread it to them already.”

“It could be all over the country by now.”

I was horrified. They laughed and said they were kidding and the media is probably making it sound much worse than it actually is, but I spent the next few hours cleaning Brady’s condo
and staying holed up in his room because you just never fucking know. Eventually they said they were going to go eat at one of my favorite restaurants so I couldn’t say no.

I used almost all of my purse sized bottle of Purell. Then I started thinking that the cooks or our waiter could have contacted someone with Ebola and they could have it and could’ve contaminated our food. I told Brady and Hunter and they laughed and kept eating, but my appetite was gone. It was really unfortunate too because my bacon cheeseburger was bomb AF.

When we got home, Chris was home and they all went downstairs to smoke. After my tiring day of trying not to catch Ebola, I needed to take the edge off so I joined them. I only choked once and when we were done, we sat on the couch for a really long time. They were talking about football or sports or something while I sat there mesmerized by the fact that my nude painted nails matched the wall almost perfectly. What are the chances?

We decided to go to the bar and all got up to get ready. While Brady and I were getting dressed, Hunter showered in the attached bathroom. We were basically done getting ready so while we waited for Hunter to shower we started making out and fooling around. Naturally, we ended up having sex, but without taking any of our clothes off. Every time I would moan or make any noise Brady would shush me so Hunter wouldn’t hear even though the shower was on. I doubt he would’ve heard anything.

The four of us walked to a nearby bar and started with shots and beer. I felt like one of the guys.

Once when Brady went to get more drinks, Hunter leaned over to me and said, “You’re not what I expected at all. You’re super chill.”

“What were you expecting?” I asked.

He looked over his shoulder like he was making sure Brady wasn’t coming back yet. “A snob. No offense.”

I’ve actually been called a snob (so 90’s right?) plenty of times in my life so it felt nice to hear that someone didn’t think I was one.

When we got home, Brady and I got in bed. I wasn’t really drunk and the weed seemed to have worn off, but I was still feeling bold.

“Do you love me?” I asked.

“Mmmhm,” he murmured, pulling me close.

I pushed him away so I could look at his face. “Seriously?”

His eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. “What?”

“Have you ever been in love? Do you even know what it feels like?”

“Why are you asking me this?”

“I just want to know!”

“Yes, I know what love feels like,” Brady sighed like he was so annoyed with me.

“How?” I demanded.

“What do you mean how?” he asked.

“Who have you ever been in love with?”

“A girl a few years ago-”

I didn’t even let him finish before saying, “How do you know you loved her?”

“Because I knew. She did a lot for me.”

I hated hearing about other girls Brady’s been with so even though I was dying to know who this girl was (Anna? Someone else?) I decided not to pry anymore.

We fell asleep and then something really weird happened in the middle of the night. I legitimately can’t tell if this was a dream or if this really happened, but I’ll tell it like it really happened.

I woke up in the middle of the night because I heard someone in the bathroom. I assumed it was Brady at first, but then I felt him sleeping next to me. I heard the toilet flush and watched the door open. Hunter was standing there, completely naked with his hair down and his dick just swinging. He saw me and smirked then turned off the bathroom light and walked out. So fucking weird/realistic.

But on Sunday morning we all had breakfast and Hunter didn’t blush or act weird (I personally felt really embarrassed) so now I’m thinking I must have dreamed the whole thing. Plus, why would Hunter be walking around Brady and Chris’s place naked like he owns the place? It can’t have really happened. Which begs the question of ew, why would I have that kind of dream?

what a fail.

On Tuesday I decided that I was going to make dinner for Brady. I don’t ever cook, but I thought it would be a nice gesture. I found a recipe for homemade ravioli on Pinterest that didn’t seem too complicated and made a grocery list for after work.

$170 later, I headed home with all the ingredients I needed (including a pastry wheel, a rolling pin, and a bottle of wine). I started with the pasta dough which seemed fairly easy – pour the flour on a flat surface, make a “well” for the egg yolks, oil and milk, mix.

Well, it didn’t work out like that. I didn’t want to touch the raw eggs with my bare hands so I tried to use a spoon. That obviously didn’t work. My dough came out super runny. I added more flour but it ended up crumbling into pieces. I tried again and decided that I would follow the recipe exactly by using my hands. I sucked it up and mixed the dough with my hands, but again it came out runny (later found out that I read the recipe wrong and should’ve added more flour, of course).

At this point, I was annoyed and decided I would start on the filling then come back to the dough. I was making a spinach and mozzarella filling and the first step was to wilt the spinach down with olive oil and garlic. Easy enough. I added the garlic and olive oil and then dumped the entire bag of spinach in the pan. My mom called and I excitedly told her about the meal I was making. I knew she would be proud.

She started telling me about how one of my favorite teachers from high school is under investigation for having sex with one of his students. I was shocked and realized that could have so easily been me. I flirted with him endlessly my junior and senior years because he was hot plus math was really hard. He never really budged or showed any interest (except buying a ton of cookie dough from me during our fundraiser for new uniforms). Maybe I just wasn’t hot enough for him to hook up with.

I was so engrossed in the conversation with my mom that I forgot all about the spinach on the stove until I smelled burning garlic. The pan was smoking so I told my mom I had to call her back. The majority of the spinach was black and burned with the garlic. How does that even happen?

By then, Brady was due in thirty minutes and my ravioli was nowhere near being done. What a fail. I knew that I had to cook something so I decided to stick with what a know how to make: grilled cheese. Plus that was all I really had time for. I had fresh mozzarella left from my ravioli disaster so I used it to make two sandwiches. I plated them with vintage Hermès plates with a basil leaf garnish. Chicest grilled cheese ever.

I buzzed Brady in and the first thing he said was, “Did you burn something?”

Ugh. Definitely should’ve opened a window.

“Are you ready to eat?” I asked, ignoring his question.

“Mmm, yes. What did you make?” Brady said.

I led him to my tiny table and chairs. “Gourmet grilled cheese!” I squealed.

“Looks great.” Brady went to sit down, but I yelled for him to stop.

“I need to take a picture for Instagram,” I explained.

He waited patiently while I uploaded the photo of our food and wine (and my fabulously decorated table) with the caption “Made dinner for bae.” I immediately got several likes.

After we ate, we were still hungry so we made pizza rolls. I poured us more wine and we took it along with our pizza rolls and Oreos to the couch. We started watching some baseball game and stayed up talking until 1:00 AM.

On Wednesday, I hung out with Preston and Dillon. We went to this natural tea place Preston has been dying to try and all their drinks are named stuff like “Happiness” and “Purity.” I got “Tranquility” because obviously that’s what I need in my life.

We sat outside and I told them about my latest bout of craziness with Brady. Preston obviously laughed for several minutes then gave Dillon a brief overview of my relationship with Brady.

“Poor guy. He has no idea what he’s gotten himself into,” Preston said, wiping his laughter tears away.

“I’ve decided that I’m going to let myself be vulnerable though. I think I’ve been so crazy with him because I have a guard up,” I said.

“Good for you,” Preston said and his face turned serious. “I don’t think he has any intention to hurt you, love bug. And if he does, just know that you have amazing friends who will help you slash his tires and hack into his Facebook.”

I laughed because that was true. You don’t even want to know what kind of trouble my friends and I got into in college.

Dillon spent the rest of the evening telling me his life story which would have been really annoying if it wasn’t completely entertaining. He said he’s 19 and moved here from San Diego. His house burned down two years ago and apparently his family’s insurance didn’t cover all the losses so they had to dip into his college fund and now he has no money to go to school. So tragic. He’s hoping to break into acting and dance and has been an extra in those awful Step Up movies. He moved to Chicago because of the theater opportunities and was homeless for his first few months here. Luckily he met a kind person who not only helped him pay for school, but also gave him a place to live. What a wonderful story.

I texted Brady while I was out and asked if he wanted to come over. He said he was working late so I invited Preston and Dillon over. I couldn’t help checking Jessica’s Facebook to see if she checked in anywhere or tagged Brady in anything. She didn’t. Is it unhealthy that I do that? I’ve been checking her page obsessively the last few days and all I see are pictures of her and her friends. I thought about deleting her, but then I won’t catch it if she does tag Brady in something.

i’m pregnant.

On Monday, I was actually busy at work. Dave and Diana are going on a business trip next Monday through Wednesday and someone is going to have to run the office. So Diana forwarded me the how-to manual on the office operations and I took some time to read through it. After a few hours I started feeling like my eyes were crossing from reading so much. I pulled out my phone to check Pinterest, SnapChat, Facebook, Twitter, etc.

Mark had texted me a listing for a condo he thought I would love and asked if I wanted to see it soon. It was a gorgeous updated high rise, but it was a studio and I have way too much shit for a studio. I told him to keep looking.

I logged onto Facebook and the first thing that came up on my newsfeed was a location check-in from Jessica.

“Lunch with my favorite people,” she said and tagged three people including Brady. I almost dropped my phone.

It was from five minutes prior so I knew they were probably still eating. I couldn’t believe it. Brady assured me that he was no longer speaking to her. Why were they going on lunch dates together? Clearly, he lied and they probably never stopped talking or hanging out. Before I could stop myself, I dialed Brady’s number on my office phone. I had to get to the bottom of this ASAP.

He didn’t answer and I assumed it was because he didn’t recognize the number. I called him again from my cell phone and it went to voicemail after only two rings. RUDE. He obviously ignored my phone call on purpose. What if it was an emergency? I could be dying! I felt my body shaking with anger.

I texted him, “I’m pregnant.” and sat my phone down to continue working. I giggled when he called back three minutes later (which is actually a long time to wait to check in on your unborn child’s mother).

I obviously didn’t answer and instead texted, “Can’t talk, I’m super busy right now.”

“You’re pregnant?” Brady asked immediately.

“Yes,” was all I said back. I felt kind of evil for lying to him, but I would tell him the truth after I got some answers about Jessica. He needed to be punished.

“Can you please step out or something so we can talk?” Brady asked.

Before I could tell him no, my office phone rang and Diana asked me to meet her in Dave’s office so we could go over some things. They spent an hour going over the troubleshooting guide just in case anything crazy happens while they are gone. I mean I get it, they want to be prepared, but I’ve run the office plenty of times while they both were out. Things will be fine.

After that, Dave wanted to take us out for drinks and obviously we didn’t object. I was so thirsty for free drinks that I completely forgot about my phone and telling Brady I was pregnant. By the time we got back to the office it was 4:30. I had two missed calls and several text messages.

“Answer the phone please.”

“Reese.”

“Seriously. I’m freaking out here.”

I felt terrible and decided I would come clean and give him an amazing blow job later.

“Let’s talk later,” I texted back and wrapped up for the day.

Brady called at around six when he got off and asked to come over. I said sure. When he got there, I buzzed him in and opened the door when he knocked.

“You’re off early today,” I said, hugging him.

“Yeah,” was all he said.

We pulled away and I gave Brady my most innocent smile. I hoped he wouldn’t be pissed.

“Are you really pregnant?” he asked me.

I waited a few seconds before saying, “No.”

Brady let out a deep breath. “Then why did you say you were?” He sounded frustrated – almost whiney – but not particularly mad.

“So you went to lunch with Jessica? You said you haven’t talked to her. Sounds like you guys are great friends to me,” I said in an accusatory voice.

“A lot of people went, not just the two of us. I didn’t talk to her.”

“Okay.” I wanted to press the issue, but I didn’t want to come off as an insecure brat like Saturday night.

“Why did you lie, Reese? I told my brother and I’m sure he’s already told my mom.”

Oops.

“Sorry,” I said meekly. I actually really did feel bad. His mother would probably disown him.

“It’s okay,” Brady sighed, but I knew it wasn’t.

“Don’t you think it’s weird that Jessica tagged you on Facebook and you guys haven’t talked in three weeks?” I asked.

“Kind of, yes.”

“You haven’t talked to her in three weeks, right?”

“Reese, it’s hard. We work primarily on the same floors and she’s very persistent. I do my best to avoid her.”

What?

“So you guys never stopped talking?” I clarified.

“I told her that you would prefer if she and I didn’t talk anymore and at first, she respected that. The only time she would talk to me was about work related matters. Then she started back asking how my weekend was and stuff like that. I can’t be rude.”

I nodded. So is that why Jessica added me on Facebook – so she could tag Brady in statuses and brag that they are still friends? Cool.

“Do you want to get dinner?” Brady asked and I nodded. I slipped on my Prada flats, grabbed a jacket and followed Brady out the door.

We went to a bar and grill near my apartment and got beer and appetizers to share. By the time I finished my first beer, Brady was on his third. I hope I’m not driving him into a drinking problem. I know I’m a handful.

When we got back to my apartment I put a movie in and we snuggled.

“Reese, I don’t want Jessica to continue to cause conflict between us,” Brady said out of nowhere. “I’m not interested in her romantically or sexually at all.”

“…Okay,” I started.

“I love everything about you. I only want you right now,” he continued.

Right now? What did that mean?

“I wish you would trust my word on that. I think you’re still punishing me for not being upfront about her. Everyday you have a new issue with me and it seems like there’s nothing I can about it.”

When he said that I really felt bad. Brady completely trusts me and doesn’t seem to be guarding his emotions. At any moment I could rip his heart right out of his chest and stomp it to pieces. Isn’t he afraid of that? I am. That’s why I’m so guarded. But if he’s making himself vulnerable and I’m not, that isn’t fair.

So I’ve decided that I’m going to stop being a psychopath and let myself love him. I mean, I’m going to try. I think he deserves that much.

calm down.

On Saturday evening, we all went on some sort of mega quintuple-date. There was of course Brady and me, then Carly and Chris, Kendra and John, Preston and Dillon and Brady and Chris’s friend Jacob and his girlfriend, Stacey. We went to this tavern and got dinner and drinks. Carly, Preston and I pretty much dominated the conversation mainly because we were the only ones who took advantage of the three dollar shots. I was drunk and hadn’t even spent $20 on drinks so I was pretty happy about that.

I was telling the group about my recent brush with death (crossing the street when a police car ran a red light – no lights or sirens on) and everyone was laughing and clearly enjoying my story. But Brady put an arm around me and whispered, “Calm down,” into my ear.

Is there anything worse than when you’re drunk and someone tells you to calm down and you are already calm?

I glared at him. “I am calm.”

“Okay,” he said and patted my shoulder. Ugh.

After dinner we walked next door to a lowkey club/lounge. The boys hung out at the bar while the girls plus Preston and Dillon took our drinks to the dance floor.

Naturally we danced nonstop and kept flagging down those skanky cocktail waitresses for more drinks. I discovered that I absolutely love Dillon because he’s exactly like me. Every time a new song came on, we screamed because it was our “jam.” So fun. We were fucking shwasted so Carly, Preston, Dillon and I were probably causing a bit of a scene.

I excused myself and went to find Brady. He was with Kendra, John, Chris and Jacob near the bar. I didn’t even notice that Kendra left our group.

“Gawd, can you leave your boyfriend’s side for five fucking minutes?” I asked.

Kendra narrowed her eyes at me. “You guys were embarrassing me.”

Ugh. She’s so insecure. Who cares if we were acting a fool on the dance floor? We were having fun.

The bartender girl appeared and said, “Brady, do you want another Bud Light?”

My head jerked back toward her. Excuse me? Why was she calling my boyfriend by his first name? And why did she look like Blake Lively?

“Do you guys know each other?” I asked Brady.

“What? She’s the bartender,” Brady answered giving me a weird look.

“Yeah, right. How does she know your name?” Drunk Reese glared.

“Probably because I opened a tab with my credit card…which has my name on it.”

“You’ve been waiting to use that excuse all night. How do you know her?”

The bartender was watching the encounter and said, “Ma’am, settle down. I don’t know your boyfriend. I’m just serving drinks.”

I spun around to face her. “Did I ask you?”

She put her hands up like she was going to stay out of it then walked away.

“That was extremely rude,” Brady said.

“I know! I’m going to ask to speak with her manager and get her fired,” I replied.

Brady touched my waist. “No, I mean you. You owe her an apology.”

“Are you taking her side?”

Brady actually rolled his eyes at me and sighed deeply like I was the problem. “Reese, stop.”

I pulled myself away and Brady tried to grab my hand.

“Well, I hope you and Blake enjoy your night. Toodles!”

I stormed off and grabbed Carly, Preston and Dillon and we went outside and found a transient/hipster to give us cigarettes. I have to be really, really drunk and upset to smoke a cig and clearly I was at that point.

I started complaining about Shady Brady and the incident at the bar. Dillon was totally on my side and said that I should definitely look into getting Blake terminated.

“I’m just so over it,” I said taking a long drag of my cigarette. “I can’t even trust him at the bar alone.”

“There’s Brady right there!” Carly exclaimed and Brady and Chris came walking out of the club.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Brady asked as they approached us and then he snatched the cigarette out of my mouth.

“Rude!” I shouted as he threw it on the ground.

Chris mentioned that Uber was coming so Carly and I started saying goodbye to Preston and Dillon.

“Sext me, Dill. Love you guys,” I said hugging both of them.

We got to the duplex (after I demanded we make a pit stop at Taco Bell) and Brady and I went to his room. I started reapplying my lipstick and taking selfies in the bathroom.

“Let’s go to bed, Reese,” Brady said gently. He was already undressed and under the covers.

“Sure, so you can go have sex with Blake while I’m sleeping?” I said.

“Who is Blake?” he asked.

“That bartender ho you’re cheating on me with.”

“Reese, stop that right now,” Brady said, now stern. “We are going to sleep.”

Drunk Reese ignored him and started playing Candy Crush. Brady waited about ten minutes then said, “Are you getting in bed?”

“Fine!” I mumbled and then took off everything except my thong. I climbed into bed and Brady draped an arm around my waist.

“Why are you mad at the bartender?” he asked me.

“She was flirting with you,” I answered.

“No she wasn’t. She was being friendly.”

“She wants to suck your dick.”

“Stop, Reese. I don’t like you like this. You’re being crazy.”

Crazy. Isn’t that what Eric or whatever his name was called me? I didn’t say anything.

“You don’t have anything to worry about. You’re the only one I want,” Brady said.

Barf.

But that was enough to get me to relax and make out with him until I fell asleep.

On Sunday morning I woke up violently hungover and spent three hours on Brady’s bathroom floor. Way too many cheap shots. Brady begged to help nurse me back to health, but I was too grossed out to even let him see me.

I finally showered and emerged from the bathroom and let Brady take me to dunch (dinner/lunch). After a double cheeseburger, fries and a hot dog I felt as good as new.

Brady told me that his older brother is visiting next weekend so I’ll get to meet him. Yippee. I bet he’s such a nerd. Can’t wait to help him get laid!

bad news and good news.

On Wednesday morning I had an appointment with my gynecologist for my yearly checkup. I was actually anxious to know if 1. I was pregnant and 2. If I had contracted any stids. I wasn’t worried about any of that until I talked to Kendra. She has a way of making you think the worst about your situation.

“Have you gotten your period?” she asked me on Tuesday night.

“Kendra, I haven’t gotten my period in a year,” I rolled my eyes. She knows that.

“First of all, I don’t think that’s normal. Ask your doctor about that tomorrow,” she said.

I rolled my eyes again.

“Second of all, if you don’t get a period, how do you know if you’re pregnant or not? Isn’t that scary?”

I actually haven’t had a pregnancy scare since going on birth control so I didn’t really have an answer to that. I guess I rely on the 99.9% effectiveness.

My gyno, Dr. Stringer, is a lanky flamboyant man who I would think is gay if he didn’t have photos of his wife and all his kids all over his office. After the nurse drew blood, I got naked and put on a hospital gown and waited for him in the examining room.

“Reese, darling,” he said, knocking on the door. He walked in with the nurse following him. “I was wondering when I would see you again. How have you been?”

See? What straight man says “darling?”

“I’ve been great. Thanks for seeing me on such short notice,” I said. Usually Dr. Stringer books appointments weeks and weeks out. Luckily since I’m a VIP patient (lol), I was able to get an appointment within a week.

“Anything for you! Are we just doing your routine yearly checkup today?” he asked.

“Yes. And a pregnancy test,” I replied.

“Of course. Do you have concerns that you may be pregnant?” Dr. Stringer looked at me over the top of his glasses.

“No, I just figure we may as well make sure while I’m here.”

“Very well then.” He put his clipboard down then popped on a pair of latex gloves. “Lay back and spread them!”

The actual examine didn’t take long, but Dr. Stringer talked to me the whole time and made candid comments about my vagina which was really odd. He finally said he was all done and that he and the nurse would be back with some results in a few minutes.

While I was getting dressed, I started to seriously think about what I would do if I was pregnant. I feel like I know Brady pretty well, but not enough to have a baby with him. We would probably have to get married or at least engaged. I don’t think I’m ready for that kind of commitment. But on the bright side, at least he already owns an amazing condo and clearly has money to support his family. We would just have to evict Chris and turn his bedroom into a chic Pinterest-worthy nursery and hire a full time nanny/servant.

By the time Dr. Stringer returned I was convinced that I was pregnant and trying to figure out how I was going to break the news to my parents. They only just found out about Brady.

“All right, Miss Reese,” Dr. Stringer said sitting on the stool in front of me. “I have bad news and I have good news.”

My heart began racing. Bad news and good news? Bad: I was pregnant, good: I didn’t have the clap? Or the other way around?

“The bad news is… You’re not pregnant. The good news is… You’re not pregnant!” Dr. Stringer exclaimed. It took me a moment to process what he said.

“Dr. Stringer!” I groaned. “Don’t freak me out like that!”

He chuckled. “All of your tests came back negative with the exception of a couple that will take a few days to process. If you don’t hear from us within a week then everything is good.”

So there went my dreams of a fabulous nursery with a chandelier imported from Spain. Oh well. I’ve been drinking and smoking so it’s probably for the best.

After I left the doctor, I celebrated by getting froyo (with gummy bears and sprinkles #yolo) then going to the office. To be honest, I haven’t done much work at all the past week or so, so I figured I should probably get at least something done.

Except I spent the day avoiding Whitney’s emails and pinning pumpkin recipes. After work, I stopped by the boutique Preston works in to pick up a few items. Preston basically had me try on everything in the store until we decided on a dress, a sheer top, and a pair of leather leggings.

After that I met Kendra for sushi. I was so excited to tell her that I’m not pregnant AND I don’t have STDs.

“So hopefully this is a lesson learned,” she said smugly after I shared the news.

“Well now that we are both STD free, I think we can continue what we were doing,” I said.

“Why would you do that? He could be doing the same thing with ten other women,” Kendra said, looking appalled.

“No he couldn’t. He’s not some player, Kendra. He’s my boyfriend.”

“Okay well do what you want. I’ve given up trying to give you advice. You always do whatever the fuck you want anyway.”

So that was the end of that. I love Kendra to death, but she’s just so judgmental. She always has to object to every single thing I do. She doesn’t understand that everyone’s life isn’t exactly like hers. It’s her way or you’re wrong/stupid. It’s draining. Additionally, how can she lecture me on something she and John do and have done for years? And by the way, I can’t believe we’re arguing about condoms. Ugh.

I went to Brady’s after sushi and immediately ran into Chris. I haven’t seen him since he walked in on me and Brady having sex and I was actually really not embarrassed. Oh well if he might’ve gotten a peek at my goodies. At least he got a nice show.

i just love you.

When I got back to Chicago on Sunday night, Brady picked me up from the airport. As gross as this sounds, I was so happy to see him. Like I legitimately missed him. I threw my arms around him and kissed him and we walked hand in hand to his car. Ugh. Like high schoolers.

Brady asked if I wanted to come over and even though I knew I needed to go home to get ready for work on Monday I told him yes. Whatever, YOLO, etc.

When we got there, Carly was already there.

“Oh my gosh, Reesie Puff! You’re home!” She pulled me into a hug. “You missed it, we went out with Preston’s new boyfriend last night. He’s so much fun, you’re going to love him!”

She told me about how he gave her a twerking lesson and they all took molly and danced all night. Sounds like a good time to me.

Carly said she and Chris were on their way to go smoke and asked if we wanted to join. I looked at Brady and he was looking back at me like he was waiting for my answer. I looked back at Carly who was smiling and nodding excitedly. I figured why the hell not? I’m curious about how all this works anyway.

We went downstairs and they started getting everything ready. I’ve been around smokers enough to recognize a bong when Chris pulled it out. The whole apparatus looked super complicated, but Chris and Brady got it up and running quickly. The Other Woman was playing as they passed the bong down the couch. Even though I watched Chris, Carly and Brady take a hit from the bong, by the time it reached me I realized I had no idea what to do.

Carly saw me struggling so she shouted, “Light the bowl!” or something like that?

Bowl? What bowl? I looked at Brady and since he’s such a good and caring boyfriend, he walked me through the whole thing – lighting the weed, sucking in the smoke, taking the little pipe thing out, etc. Super complex. Eating a weed laced cookie seemed so much easier. I did fine except when I exhaled all the smoke and had a coughing fit. That shit burned.

“Are you okay?” Brady asked.

I nodded and shoved the bong back at him and decided that I would just take that one hit. I didn’t want to ruin my pretty pink lungs anyway.

They passed it down the line and it reached me again.

“I’m okay,” I said, when Brady tried to hand me the bong.

“Come on, Reese. Just one more!” Carly enthused, giggling.

Fine. I took the bong and did it all on my own. And didn’t almost die from coughing. Such a pro. I fell onto the arm of the couch and closed my eyes for what felt like hours. I felt like I was asleep, but I still heard them talking and laughing and everything. It was a really weird feeling.

Brady nudged me. “Hey. How are you feeling?”

“Wonderful,” I sang, not moving.

I laid there a while longer, but suddenly felt someone on my lap.

“Hi Reesie Cup!” Carly squealed when I opened my eyes. “I love you!”

She hugged me and gave me a wet kiss. I laughed and hugged her back and then she jumped up and said she was going to order a pizza.

Brady leaned over to me and asked if I wanted to go upstairs.

“Yeah,” I said. I felt Brady get up, but I literally could not move. “I’m stuck.”

He smiled and reached down to hoist me up, but I was like a dead body. I laughed and the next thing I knew, Brady picked me up and started carrying me upstairs like it was our wedding night.

“I just love you,” I sighed. Brady isn’t very big, but he was carrying me around like an infant. I was impressed.

“I love you,” he said back and dropped me on his bed. I immediately stripped off my clothes and got under the comforter.

Brady took off his shirt and got in bed next to me.

“Didn’t you miss me?” I asked.

“Mmhm. I missed you a lot,” he said and started kissing me.

We ended up having sex with him on top, but also having a conversation.

“I thought about you all weekend,” he said.

“Did you like the picture I sent you?” I asked, referring to my telfie (titty selfie).

“Yeah. It was torture.”

I smiled, satisfied.

Right in the middle of our session, Brady’s door flew open.

“Hey, the pizza’s here,” I heard Chris say.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Brady shouted, but didn’t stop thrusting.

“We’ll save you a few slices,” Chris said and shut the door.

I can’t remember falling asleep, but Brady woke me up in the morning to take me home. I don’t know what came over me, but I literally could not get out of bed.

“Just leave me here,” I whined, pulling the blanket over my head.

“I can’t. You need to go get ready for work,” Brady said.

“I don’t want toooooo,” I continued on.

“You have to.”

I won the battle by telling Brady that I would go into the office later. Instead, I called Diana and told her my flight was delayed so I was still in Houston then I slept until noon. I woke up and sat in bed for about ten minutes then got up to find my phone. I found it on Brady’s dresser and I was disappointed when I only had two new texts. One was from Brady asking if I’d made it to work yet. Ugh. Can I live?

I noticed some papers that looked like mail on the dresser and I know you guys are going to judge, but I had to look at them. Like I physically could not stop myself.

On top was some sort of bank statement and when I saw his savings account balance, my jaw literally dropped. He could probably buy me a condo outright with the money he has saved. How the fuck can he save money like that?

I felt guilty about looking through his stuff so I stopped there. I still can’t believe how much money he has though. Like it almost makes me uncomfortable.

I showered and decided that since I had the day off I would go meet that banker lady to see if I can actually afford to buy a house. I took the bus home to get my car then barged into the bank to get some answers. I had to wait for thirty minutes since she was with a client, but whatever.

Her name is Allison and she had the chicest blonde bob. It almost made me want to cut my hair (but I would never). We talked about my salary and down payment and she calculated how much I could spend to keep my mortgage payment the same as my rent payment (assuming I have good credit which I do, obviously). I would have to go through some extra steps to get pre-approved she said, but I didn’t have time for that.

I spent the rest of the day shopping and avoiding texts from Brady since I was supposed to be busy at work. Oops.

When he got off, I invited myself over and we had leftover pizza and beer. Remember when he said I was low maintenance? I’m starting to believe I am.

three generations of me.

My flight left Chicago at 3:30 on Friday afternoon so I just took the entire day off. Since Carly was off too she agreed to take me to the airport and we stopped to get lunch beforehand. I asked her about the wedding and she said that Chris invited her so she planned on going. Cool. Glad I was left out of those plans. We ended up getting margaritas and getting a little tipsy because why not?

Except while I was using the bathroom at the airport I dropped my Eddie Borgo bracelet in the toilet after I peed and had to stick my hand in and fish it out. #notsorry and #dontjudge.

Luckily I slept it off and felt great by the time we landed a little after 6:00. My parents were supposed to pick me up and I couldn’t wait to see them. I called my dad when I got there and he informed me that he was waiting outside my terminal, but my mom was shopping in the gift shop. Of course. I claimed my bag then went and met my dad. After we hugged, we spent twenty minutes looking for my mother.

We finally found her coming out of duty free with two shopping bags in her hand.

“Oh my God! Look at my baby!” she cried and dropped her bags to hug me.

If there is anyone in the world who is more over the top than me, it’s my mother.

“Hi Mom,” I said.

She pulled away and gave me a once over. “You look too thin. Have you been eating?”

“Of course!” I beamed. Even if it was just my mom, I loved that someone was accusing me of not eating.

“And your hair is getting so long. You look so beautiful!” She hugged me again.

We headed outside and my mom said she had a surprise. I was so excited thinking it might be a Chanel bag or something that benefitted me. Instead, we got out to the parking lot and she led us to a brand new BMW X6.

“I got a new car!” my mom exclaimed.

“Why?” I asked. Her previous BMW was still fairly new and in great condition.

“Well, it was time and I’ve been eyeing this one. Isn’t it great?”

I turned to my dad. “Daddy, you let her get this?”

My dad shrugged. “I had nothing to do with this.”

“When you got a new car, I got inspired. Isn’t it perfect? Get in!”

On the way home, she rambled on about all the features and how much she loved her new car. Super obnoxious. Didn’t she want to know about me?! I had so much to tell her.

Our house is in a planned community just north of downtown Houston and I was so nostalgic when I saw my childhood home – a modern but charming, 4/3.5 on a cul-de-sac. So many good ass memories there. I dropped my stuff off in my old bedroom which my mom has turned into her spare closet and makeup room. My dad told us he had an important call to make so he hid out in his little office while my mom and I sat around the kitchen island with wine.

“So I have a bomb to drop on you,” I said.

My mom gasped. “You’re pregnant.”

“No, Mom! God!” I scoffed giving her a dirty look. Of course that was the first thing she assumed. She is so dramatic.

“You’re moving back home?” she guessed again.

“No.”

“You wrecked your car?”

“No, Mom. Why don’t you just let me tell you?”

“Okay, fine.”

I took a sip of wine to keep the suspense going a little longer. Then I said, “I have a boyfriend.”

My mom gasped louder than when she thought I was pregnant. “You have a what?”

“A boyfriend,” I repeated.

My mom looked at me and smiled, almost like she was proud. “Well, who is he? What’s his name?”

“His name is Brady. He’s a pharmacist from Massachusetts,” I said. I felt so dorky trying to describe him. “Carly is dating his roommate which is how we met.”

My mom’s hand flew to her heart, like she was falling in love with him. “Do you have a picture?”

My favorite picture of Brady and me is one Carly took on the night we all got high. I wondered if my mom would be able to tell that I was blazed. Whatever. Even if she could tell, she couldn’t judge – she told me that she occasionally smokes weed when she goes out with her college friends.

I pulled up the picture on Facebook and showed her.

“Oh, he’s very cute,” she said. “Or should I say ‘hot?’ You look so happy!”

Oh, I was real happy that night.

“How long has this been going on?” my mom wanted to know.

“Not long. But I’ve already met his parents.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Really? What are they like?”

“They’re okay. His mom is the CEO of a hospital and his dad is like a state rep or something. They didn’t like me after I told them I voted for Obama.”

“You voted for Obama?” my mom asked, giving me a disapproving look.

“No! I just told them that because I thought that’s who I thought they voted for. I didn’t vote at all,” I explained.

“Okay good.” She looked relieved. “I’m so excited, darling. Are you guys going to get engaged? Married?”

“I don’t know, Mom!” I shouted. “Why are you jumping to conclusions? We just started dating.”

“It’s becoming time for you to settle down, babe. That’s all I’m saying. Does your dad know?”

I shook my head. “No. And don’t tell him! I want to tell him myself.”

“Okay.” My mom pulled me into a hug. “I can tell you are so happy!”

We talked some more and caught up on life. I told her what’s been going on at work with Whitney and she told me to show that bitch who’s boss. Lol thanks Mom. Noted. She said she was going to have drinks with her friends and invited me, but I politely declined. I would rather stay home and watch Teen Mom 2 than get drunk with my mother.

When my dad got off the phone we hung out in the den and talked for a bit. While we were talking I pulled up Facebook because I needed to make a status letting everyone know that I was in town for the weekend. I had a friend request from some person named Jessica and with all the makeup and filters going on in her profile picture, I didn’t recognize her at first. When I saw that Brady was our only mutual friend, I realized who it was.

BITCH.

What made her even think she had the right to add me? It’s not like Brady and I are Facebook official, meaning she had to go dig to find me. Creep. I quickly accepted, but only so I could look at her profile.

I was mostly just looking for signs that she and Brady have hung out outside of work, but all I saw were pictures of her in her bikini. Ugh, she’s so thirsty for attention. Like we get it, you have a nice body. I thought about screenshoting her profile and showing Brady that she added me, but decided to wait and see if he brings it up.

On Saturday morning, we planned on going to brunch with my mom’s parents. My dad and I got in the car and waited for my mom (who was going to sit in the backseat since she decided to take so long). He said that my mom told him that I have a boyfriend so naturally I threw a tantrum since my mom can’t keep her big mouth shut. He said that she told him not to tell me that he knew, but clearly my dad can’t keep anything to himself either. I refused to tell him anything about Brady since I was so annoyed with the two of them.

By the time we got to brunch, I was no longer mad and I was so excited to see my cute little grandparents. My grandma is exactly like me and my mom – sassy and over the top. Just imagine there being three generations of me. My grandpa is more reserved and quiet and definitely enjoys being at home (unlike my grandma who is always out). When I was growing up, I was a tomboy (if you can believe it) and I would spend a lot of time doing outdoorsy stuff with my grandpa. I can’t believe I used to like, fish and hike and shit. Gross.

The first thing my grandma said when she saw me was, “Who is he?”

So my mom told them about Brady as well. Honestly, I don’t even know why I’m surprised. She also told my whole family that I got my period the day it happened.

My mom wanted to apologize for her big ass mouth so after brunch we went to the Galleria and spent a really unnecessary amount of money. I forgive her, but I definitely won’t forget.

While we were out at the mall Carly sent me a selfie of her, Brady and Chris that they’d taken at the wedding. Carly and Chris looked okay, but Brady looked so fucking hot and I realized how #blessed he is. And I am too (can’t wait to ride his gorgeous face again).

On Saturday night, I made plans to go out with one of my friends from high school, Brittany. Brittany is that girl who you can party with every night, but not ever have an actual conversation with. Our friendship is so superficial. I don’t know anything about her except that her go-to drink is a Redbull vodka and we both wear a size 6.5/7 in heels.

Brittany and I went to a nightclub in downtown Houston where she had a table in VIP. Since she’s apparently some sort of Houston socialite (I don’t know of any full time job she has), we were surrounded by a ton of people and kept getting free bottles and drinks.

You guys know what happened next. The highlights I can remember:

1. I saw a guy I messed around with in high school, caught up with him and let him know that he’s still hot, and we exchanged numbers. Apparently he has some sort of girlfriend though and she was not happy about our reunion. She called me a skinny tramp, but my drunk ass didn’t care. My girl Brittany however, knocked homegirl’s drink onto her lap and had her kicked out of VIP. Thanks Britt.

2. Someone threw a $100 bill in the bartender tip bowl. I took it.

3. I used the $100 to buy everyone Whataburger. Not proud.

4. I drunk dialed Brady and told him how much I missed him, sent him a picture of my tits from Brittany’s bathroom, tried to have phone sex.

On Sunday morning, Brittany woke me up at some ungodly hour. The thing about Brittany is she is so used to partying every single night that she is immune to hangovers. She insisted we go lay out by her pool with our friend Natalie before I had to catch my flight back to Chicago later. I ended up falling asleep by the pool and woke up because my mom called to tell me we were going to lunch.

So naturally I had to order a bacon cheeseburger, fries, and a Diet Coke to cure my hangover. I told my parents about Mark and the beautiful apartment I saw and my dad said that if I was seriously considering buying that he would help me.

“It’s wonderful that you’re thinking like a grown up and putting your money toward your future,” he said and let me know that he could help with a down payment. Score!

Then I finally told him all about Brady while my mom sat by smiling and nodding like a stage mom.

“Let me guess, he spoils you and gives you whatever you want?” my dad said in a mocking kind of voice.

Since we were just discussing how mature and independent I was becoming, I denied the accusation. “Of course not.”

“Then why are you dating him?”

Which was cute.

Anyways, until next time, H-Town. ✌️

stids.

I was actually happy that Preston and Carly had to work on Wednesday night because I had some things to discuss with Kendra privately. Even though she’s a judgmental asshole sometimes, I can talk about anything with her. I’ve known her forever and have told her literally everything. And she’s still friends with me so.

“So I have a confession,” I said after we were seated and the waitress delivered our martinis and turkey sliders.

“Do I even want to know?” Kendra rolled her eyes.

“Yes because you’re going to get to judge the shit out of me,” I said.

“Spill.”

“Brady and I have been having unprotected sex.”

“Oh, Reese. That’s such a bad idea.”

“I know,” I said, taking a sip of my drink. “But I’m on birth control at least.”

“Still. Birth control isn’t 100% effective.”

“When’s the last time you and John used a condom?” I asked because I know for a fact that they don’t use them.

Kendra took a dainty bite of her burger. She knew she was caught.

“John and I haven’t used a condom in years,” she said and I gave her a raised eyebrow look.

“But when we stopped using them we both got checked for STDs and get checkups every year. And we’ve been in a committed relationship for over six years. It’s not like either of us is sleeping with other people.”

“You don’t think John has ever cheated on you?”

“Reese, no. Why would you even ask me that? When would John even have time to cheat on me?”

I shrugged. “Do you think Brady is sleeping with other people?”

“I have no idea. I honestly don’t know him that well…just the things you tell me.”

I sat there thinking. Even after everything that happened with Brady and Jessica, I don’t think he is actually having sex with anyone else. We literally spend every night together.

“I’m not even saying this in a judgey kind of way. I’m saying this as a friend. You need to protect yourself, Reese.”

I nodded.

After happy hour, I went home to start getting ready for my trip. I told my parents that I’m coming because I wouldn’t put it past them to take a spontaneous trip out of town the weekend I come. My mom is ecstatic and can’t wait to show me all the new shit she’s bought lately.

In the middle of packing, Brady stopped by on his way home from work. He watched me filling my suitcase up and I asked him if he wanted to get a plane ticket and come with me.

“That does sound tempting,” Brady said. “But I actually have plans.”

My eyebrows shot up. Plans? What the fuck kind of plans could he have that didn’t involve me? He obviously was trying to get rid of me for the weekend so he could do something shady.

“What kind of plans?” I asked.

“Chris and I are running a 10k and one of our friends is getting married.”

“Oh.”

So he wanted to get rid of me so he wouldn’t have to take me to the wedding with him.

“I can cancel everything if you want me to go. I would love to see where you’re from,” Brady added, which was so sweet.

“You don’t have to,” I said. I began throwing the contents of my bikini drawer into my suitcase. You just never know what you might get into in H-Town.

“Do you think we should get tested for STDs?” I blurted out, pronouncing STDs as “stids” like one of my old college professors did. [does stids stand for sexually transmitted infections and diseases? I’m trying to figure this out]

Brady looked taken aback. “Uh, yeah. I mean, we could if you deem it necessary. I was just tested a month or so ago though.”

“And you’re clean?” The way I said that made it sound like he was a former drug addict and Brady kind of laughed.

“Yes. All clean over here.”

He was too much of a gentleman to ask the last time I was tested, which was last year at my annual check up with my gyno. I probably need to schedule my appointment for this year soon. I sat there thinking, Brady just got tested a month ago. Why did he feel like he needed to be tested a month ago? Was it because of a scare or just routine? I hated thinking about him being with someone before me, but clearly there was someone and it was recent. And ick, did Brady have unprotected sex with whoever it was too?

I finished packing and started tidying up to keep myself busy. After our STD talk I just wasn’t in the mood to do anything. Brady asked if I was okay.

“I’m great. Just want to make sure my apartment is clean before I leave,” I said.

Brady nodded and watched me for a few more minutes then he pushed me back on my bed. Without a word, he pulled off my shorts and underwear and started eating me out. I mean, if he insisted.

Normally I just close my eyes and enjoy it while receiving oral, but I just so happened to glance down at Brady. He was watching me and we made eye contact. It was like he was trying to show me that he trusted me – despite wanting the STD tests and stuff.

We didn’t end up having sex at all, probably because of the conversation I started. Since we aren’t using condoms, he probably doesn’t carry them with him now.

Anyways, I’ll be at my parents all weekend. I will probably update how my trip went on my flight home on Sunday or on Monday. Have a good weekend y’all!

i’m much more classy now.

On Monday I decided that I was sick of dreading going to work so I was going to take my life back. If they wanted to go through with Whitney’s bullshit ideas then fine, that’s what we would do. One part of me wanted to stay out of it completely so that when it all blew up in her face I could say I had nothing to do with it, but another part of me genuinely cares about the company and doesn’t want Whitney to run in to the ground.

I decided that I would help, but also work on my own projects. I cannot possibly put my all into something someone else was going to put their name on.

On Monday afternoon I got an email from Mark that said, “It was so nice meeting you over the weekend. I would love to assist you in finding your first home. Let’s meet for coffee this week and discuss what you’re looking for.”

I totally forgot that I told Mark I wanted to buy a house. I replied, “Thanks for contacting me. I don’t plan on buying right now or in the near future, but I’ll let you know when I’m ready. And I don’t drink coffee, sorry.”

“You know, it normally takes people several months to find the perfect place. Let’s just meet. We can grab a quick drink since you don’t like coffee,” he replied.

“Fine. I’m free tomorrow after 5:00. And I’ll get a chai latte instead of coffee.”

For the rest of the work day, I planned a preview party for the night before the holiday warehouse sale. It would be held in the showroom and we would cater finger foods like bacon wrapped shrimp. Plus a lot of alcohol obviously. I was so excited to have my own little project to work on.

After work I met with Carly for mani/pedis so we could discuss the weekend’s events.

“I know you’re not really into weed, but you had fun right?” Carly asked.

“I did, but I ate five fucking slices of pizza in one sitting. That’s unacceptable and quite frankly disgusting. If that’s what weed is going to do to me then I want no parts,” I answered.

Carly giggled. “Then you don’t even want to know how many slices I ate. Thanks for the pizza, by the way. You were the life of the party!”

“Great. I’ll put that down as an explanation on my expense report.”

We finished our pedicures and headed to the manicure stations.

“Call me naive, but I didn’t even know Brady smoked or anything,” I said.

“You’re naive. Brady smokes with us all time,” Carly revealed.

Cool. So my boyfriend is a stoner and I had no idea. I guess I should’ve known though. Everyone smokes these days.

I started to say something, but the petite Asian girl doing my nails said, “You need manicure bad.”

I just blinked at her so she added, “Real bad.”

Then she started giggling. Isn’t that rude? Did y’all see that episode of Sex and the City where Miranda always orders the same Chinese takeout and the girl laughs at her? That’s how I felt. And honestly, I know it’s been awhile since my last mani, but my nails weren’t that bad.

I made sure to hunt down the manager of the nail salon to let him know how rude his staff is. I found him and told him what happened and he said I did “need manicure.” So whatever. Won’t be going back there.

Brady came over after work and I told him about his persistent friend contacting me.

“It won’t hurt to look. You might actually find something really great,” Brady said.

Fine. So I met Mark after work on Tuesday at a coffee shop near the office. He already had a chai latte waiting for me, which was nice but wasn’t going to make me any more inclined to buy a house/condo.

“Thanks for meeting me, Reese. How was your day?” he asked after he shook my hand.

“It was fine,” I said shortly. I was ready to get this little meeting over with so I could go home and watch the episodes of Snapped I had on DVR.

“That’s what I like to hear. What is it you do for a living again?” Mark asked.

I gave him a super brief summary of my job while he nodded.

“What an interesting industry to work in. I’m willing to guess your apartment is designed very nicely.”

That was true and I even had pictures to prove it, but I didn’t have time to show off. I nodded.

“Why the resistance, Reese? Buying a home is such an exciting thing that not everyone gets the opportunity to do.”

I took a sip of my chai. “I’m just not ready to buy right now. I probably can’t even afford what I want so I don’t want to get my hopes up,” I explained.

Mark’s face lit up. “You’d be surprised what you can afford at the same amount or less than what you’re paying in rent now. A unit in this building just went on the market last week. Why don’t we go take a look?”

The coffee shop we were in was actually in the lobby of an older apartment building with dark original wood, an ornate tray ceiling and lots of moldings. It was gorgeous. He took me up a rickety flight of stairs to the fourth floor and down the hall to the last unit. When he opened the door, my jaw literally dropped.

Even though the building was older, the inside of the apartment was completely redone. It had the same dark wood floor from downstairs and huge windows on two of the walls because it was a corner unit. The kitchen opened up the living area and was completely updated with dark cabinets, light granite counter tops, a sparkly dark blue back splash and stainless steel applicances. The bathroom had the same cabinets and counter tops with a separate glassed-in shower and jetted bathtub. Down the hall was the one bedroom, not huge but a good size for how old the building was. There was somehow a walkin closet with a customized built in shelving system. The entire place was beautiful.

“Wouldn’t you like to live here?” Mark asked. He hadn’t said anything the whole time I toured, letting me take the whole place in by myself.

“Yes,” I admitted. The place was way bigger and just as nice as my current apartment. “But how do I even know if I can afford it?”

“My clients usually work with an amazing banker who can crunch some numbers and find a budget you’re comfortable with. Why don’t you meet with her this week?” Mark suggested.

I said okay and looked around one last time. So now Mark has me seriously considering buying a condo. I mean, if my financial situation works out.

Brady came to get me after work so we could have dinner and drinks. He said he had a long day so I made him spill it over tequila spritzers. He explained that one of the long term patients at the hospital passed away. The man had cancer and wasn’t a patient Brady worked directly with, but they had grown close from seeing each other and talking everyday. I never know what to say when someone dies. I’ve never really had to go through that so I don’t even know what I would want someone to say to me.

Brady asked how my day was and I told him about meeting Mark and the awesome apartment I saw.

“I think you should definitely consider investing in property now. It’s the perfect time in your life,” he said.

I told him that I would look further into it.

We had a few more drinks and I started feeling pretty tipsy. Brady stopped after drink number two because he was driving, but obviously I kept going well past that. By the time we left the restaurant, I was feeling happy and horny as hell.

While Brady drove home, I rubbed his thigh and kissed his neck hoping he would pull over so we could partake in some skanky car sex. He wasn’t very responsive since he was focused on the road, but then Drunk Reese got a wonderful idea.

I quickly unbuckled his belt and pants before he could safely stop me and pulled his penis out. He was hard so obviously he wanted some action too. I was going to give him road head. I haven’t done that since probably high school because I’m much more classy now, but this was the perfect opportunity.

“Reese,” Brady moaned once I got started, but he didn’t stop me.

I kept going and he grabbed a fistful of my hair like he was going to pull me off, but he let me keep sucking. After several minutes, I felt Brady’s body start to tense.

“I’m…gonna…” he started but couldn’t even finish his sentence before he came.

The rest of the car ride back to his place was silent and when we got to his room he pushed me back on the bed and started kissing me. He pulled my shirt over my head and started kissing my neck.

“What are you doing to me?” Brady mumbled into my neck.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” he responded so I don’t know what he meant by that.

Either way, we spent the night hooking up so no complaints from me.