i fucking love donuts.

Since it was freezing cold on Friday night, I decided to stay in and have Kendra and Preston over. I didn’t really want to be out and about with the huge gash on my face anyway. Brady was going to the bar with Chris and some of their friends and you’re not going to believe this, but I was totally okay with him going out without me. 

Kendra and Preston arrived at around 7:30 with wine and we ordered Chinese food for dinner. Preston told us that he’s seeing Dillon and Mr. Murphy, but still separately.

“I love what I have with both of them separately and I don’t want to ruin that by trying this three way relationship thing. So I’m not going to – for now,” Preston explained.

Kendra got a little offended saying that Preston was basically cheating on both of them. Preston denied it and said that he and Dillon aren’t “technically” together so it doesn’t really count. Kendra didn’t buy it.

After a text message at 10:45 PM, I didn’t hear from Brady for the rest of the night. I found it odd because we were right in the middle of a conversation. An hour later I texted him and said, “Do you want to come over after you’re done partying without me?” 

No response.

I started to get worried/suspicious, but I didn’t want to jump to conclusions and text Chris. I figured he was probably having fun and didn’t want to be that guy who was on the phone with his girlfriend all night. I didn’t want to be that girlfriend either.

I didn’t tell Kendra and Preston what was going on because I didn’t want to hear all their theories. They would probably tell me he was cheating on me and having sex with another girl as we were speaking. That was the last thing I wanted to hear. So I continued drinking and laughing with them until we passed out in my living room.

On Saturday morning when I woke up, Brady still hadn’t texted or called me and not hearing anything at all was concerning. I called him and his phone went straight to voicemail. Weird. So I texted Carly to see if she’d been over to their place at all or heard anything and she said that she hadn’t – she worked Friday night and went home afterwards.

Finally, I decided to text Chris. I asked him to have Brady call me if he talked to him. Chris responded, “Will do!” which made me believe that at least Brady wasn’t dead.

Kendra and Preston were hungry so we decided to meet Carly and Dillon at a BYOB brunch place. We stopped and got champagne and vodka then headed over there. While we were waiting for our table, Brady finally called me.

“Hey,” I answered nonchalantly like it hadn’t been over thirteen hours since I’d heard from him.

“Hey. I’m sorry. I lost my phone at the bar,” Brady said.

“What?” I scoffed, already not into his story.

“I just got it back. Fortunately for me, someone was honest and gave it to a bartender,” Brady explained.

“Were you really that drunk?” I asked, surprised and a little annoyed. Brady never does stupid, irresponsible shit like that so I wasn’t sure how I felt about this. 

“I must have been.”

He apologized and asked if I wanted to come over. I told him I was about to get breakfast and invited him to come.

We got our table and I ordered lemon french toast and bacon. By the time Brady and Chris arrived, I was pretty tipsy from the champs. Not quite drunk, but way too drunk for 1:00 PM on a Saturday afternoon. 

“Oh, look who’s alive,” I said sarcastically when Brady walked in. I made the entire table shift seats so he could sit next to me.

“Hey, I’m sorry about that. I feel like an idiot,” Brady said when he sat down.

I rolled my eyes. “I think it’s really weird that you ‘lost your phone’ and didn’t bother to call me and let me know. I was worried.”

“Well, I couldn’t call you if I didn’t have my phone,” Brady said, kind of laughing.

“Chris has a phone. I’m sure all of your other friends have phones. It’s not like you don’t know my number – you called me from work that time you left your phone at my apartment,” I said.

Everyone at the table was kind of silently eating/listening to our conversation.

“Reese, can we talk about this later?” Brady asked in a hushed tone.

I glared at him. “Why, so you can have some time to think up a good story?”

“No. There isn’t a story to think up. I lost my phone and didn’t get it back until this morning. I couldn’t call you because I don’t have your number memorized. I have my contacts saved to iCloud which is how I was able to call you from work.”

I didn’t say anything.

“I couldn’t exactly do that while I was at the bar.”

“Convenient,” I said. “I just really don’t believe you.”

Brady looked down at his menu with his jaw tight. He didn’t say anything so I continued eating and drinking and gossiping with Preston and Dillon. Brady and I didn’t talk for the rest of the meal.

After we ate, I made plans to get manicures with Kendra, Preston and Dillon and when we got outside to the cold day, I felt Brady’s eyes on me. I turned and he was staring at me expectantly.

I stopped walking and said, “What?”

“Let me guess, you think you did nothing wrong?” he said.

“What? What did I do?” I asked impatiently.

“Seriously?” Brady asked. 

I glared at him. “Seriously.”

“You berated me in front of everyone. That was uncalled for.”

“So you think you did nothing wrong?”

“I left my phone at the bar!” Brady yelled. He yelled. “I apologized. What else can I do? You’re being so unreasonable!”

“Don’t fucking yell at me,” I said.

“Reese, are you coming, doll face?” I heard Preston call from the distance.

“Give me a minute!” I shouted back.

I turned back to Brady and he was still staring down at me intensely. “Go with your friends. It doesn’t matter. We aren’t going to resolve anything anyway.”

“What do you want me to do?” I asked with a frustrated sigh.

“I don’t know, perhaps show me a little respect?”

“I do respect you,” I said, crossing my arms. I did feel a little bit bad that he felt that way, but I wasn’t about to back down.

“Yeah?” Brady said. I sensed he wanted to say more – a lot more – but he just said, “Okay.”

“It’s cold so I’m going to leave,” I said abruptly.

He waited a beat then said, “Okay. Me too.”

We both said goodbye very briefly then I ran to catch up with my friends. Once we got settled into our manicure chairs, Kendra asked me what Brady said. I told her the story and she said, “I do think it was a little inappropriate to confront him like that in front of everyone. It was like you wanted to put on a show.”

Which was a little bit offensive. I denied it and she told me that I needed to apologize and make it up to him because I had embarrassed him. I told her that he embarrassed himself.

I didn’t hear from Brady the rest of the day on Saturday. I ended up staying home and watching both Sex and the City movies and falling asleep at 10:30. I probably deserved that.

I slept in on Sunday, woke up and watched tv for a few hours then took the longest shower ever. I wrapped myself in a towel and blow dried my hair until it was just barely damp. As soon as I turned off my blow dryer I heard my phone ping and a light knock on the door. I froze. I don’t really talk to anyone in my building and I wasn’t expecting anyone so I was a little bit freaked out.

I tiptoed to the kitchen where my phone was laying on the counter. I had two missed calls from Brady and a text message.

“Are you home? I’m at your apartment.”

I let out a sigh of relief as I realized it was probably him who was knocking. Sure enough, when I opened the door, Brady was standing there looking sheepish with a familiar pink box in his hand.

“Hey,” I said casually, opening the door to let him in.

“Hey,” he replied. He walked passed me and sat at one of my stools in front of the counter.

“How did you get up here?” I couldn’t help asking.

“Your doorman let me up. I think we are friends now,” Brady said, taking off his coat and stuff. 

I followed him to the counter and peeked in the box even though I knew what was there. Donuts. I fucking love donuts. I threw my arms around my sweet boyfriend and he hugged me back. He was still a little bit cold from being outside and since I was still in just a towel, I felt a shiver race through my body.

“Love you,” I heard myself say. I didn’t even mean to, I don’t think. We hadn’t said that to each other in weeks. Maybe that’s how you know it’s real.

“Love you,” Brady whispered, kissing me.

We both seemed to completely forget about the stupid fight we had on Saturday and spent the rest of the day feeding each other donuts.

I already know, the fight was all my fault. I absolutely should’ve waited until we were alone to confront him about it. Hindsight is 20/20 and etc. But I had every right to be annoyed though, didn’t I? Even if he lost his phone, he should have found a way to let me know. Or is that being “unreasonable?”

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Standard

what an impression.

I spent the night with Brady on Sunday night and brought over my things I needed to get ready to meet his parents. I decided to go for a Blair Waldorf inspired look so I wore a structured black baby doll dress, Michael Kors Mary Jane pumps and a delicate gold watch.

We were supposed to meet his parents at 2:30 north of the city and I started getting really nervous while I waited for Brady to get ready. I went to the kitchen and broke into the wine cellar to help ease my nerves. I really hoped they didn’t want to talk too much.

I was three glasses in when Brady was finally ready to go. I grabbed a bottle of water and we were off.

“So what are your parents like?” I finally asked on the car ride there.

“Well, they are both very much invested in what they do. They are really into politics and current global events. It’s funny, they make time to watch the news together everyday, usually as soon as it comes on at 5:00 AM.”

Okay, I obviously know nothing about any global events so I hoped that wouldn’t come up.

We pulled up to a small restaurant right off the lake and I hoped that the bottle of water and almost hour drive had made most of the wine wear off. I wanted to take the edge off, but not be a hot mess. I felt fine when we got out of the car and gave myself a pep talk as we crossed the parking lot. This wasn’t a job interview. This was Brady’s parents who were probably just as cool and chill as he is.

We were almost to the door when a couple walked out of the restaurant. I recognized them from Google as Brady’s lovely parents.

His dad looked like he was straight out of a St. John’s Bay ad with an olive green polo, plaid shorts and boat shoes. He had a head full of salt and pepper hair, the same baby blue eyes as Brady and a pair of sunglasses hanging from a string around his neck. Brady’s mom was significantly shorter and had a powerful looking strawberry blonde bob. She wore a pair of knee length khaki shorts, a wrappy blouse and leather flip flops. Overall they looked pretty modest, but I know they have to have money. 

“Hi son!” his mom exclaimed and I watched their affectionate reunion awkwardly.

When they were finished they all turned to me.

“This is Reese,” Brady said.

His mom smiled and stuck her hand out for me to shake. Suddenly I got really intimidated and I rarely get intimidated. Could she tell that I was sitting on her son’s face just hours before? “Nice to meet you, Reese!”

“Nice to meet you as well,” I said, shaking her hand back. 

“How are ya?” his father asked shaking my hand. We made eye contact and he winked at me and suddenly I really liked him. He wasn’t intimidating at all.

“Our table should be ready now. Shall we go sit?” Brady’s mom asked.

We got inside and sat down and Brady’s dad ordered a bottle of expensive white wine. His parents ordered lobster tail (clearly not modest) and Brady and I got grilled tiger prawns and vegetables.

“So Reese, where are you from?” Brady’s dad asked while we waited for our food to arrive.

I had already taken a big gulp of my wine so I hurried to swallow. “I’m originally from suburban Texas.”

“Where did you go to college?” his mom asked.

“I graduated from ASU.”

“Is that…Arizona State?” she clarified, looking confused.

I nodded. So what if it isn’t Yale or Harvard? She didn’t have to judge.

“Brady tells us you work in marketing,” dad said.

“Yes. I’m the director of branding for a home decor company here in the city. I oversee all of the advertising efforts and any brand collaborations,” I explained.

“Is it a company we would know?” mom asked.

“We are found in a lot of retailers around the nation, but we only have our one showroom. We’re in select Nordstrom stores, if you shop there.”

“So are you a startup?” she asked, looking confused.

I shook my head. “No. We’ve been around for several years.”

“Hmmm,” she murmured as if she still wasn’t quite sure what I meant.

“So, being from Texas and living in Arizona for a number of years, how do you feel about what’s going on at the border?” dad asked me.

So it was starting. What border? The US/Mexico border? I took a drink of wine so I could stall and come up with a politically correct answer.

“I just really hope the conflict at the border ends soon and everyone is happy,” I said.

“Well, who did you vote for in the last presidential election?” he asked.

Maybe we weren’t friends after all. I didn’t even fucking vote because I thought both candidates sucked. I wished I would’ve paid attention when Googling his parents to whether his dad was a Democrat or Republican. I thought because they’re obviously rich and seemed conservative that they might be Republicans, but I remembered learning in my political science class in college that most or all of New England are Democratic states. But I failed that class and had to retake it so I don’t know. I looked at Brady for a clue, but he was looking back at me expectantly like he was wondering too.

“I voted for Obama,” I said finally.

Brady’s mom scrunched her face up, bewildered. “Why?”

Wrong answer.

“I really appreciated the passion he had for this country and wanted to give him the opportunity to tie up any loose ends during his second term,” I said, impressing even myself with the bullshit.

“Do you think he did a good job his first term?” Brady’s dad asked.

“I don’t think he did any worse than either of the Bushes,” I said and downed the rest of my wine.

Brady’s parents looked at each other.

“What do your parents do?” Brady’s mom asked.

“My father works in finance for an energy company and my mother owns a business,” I answered proudly.

“Your mother owns a business and you voted for Obama?” the mom gasped. The look on her face was almost comical.

I looked at Brady and gave him an SOS signal with my eyes. It took him a moment to figure out what it meant, but when he did figure it out, he acted quickly.

“Mom, would you like another glass of wine?” he asked.

“Yes,” she replied, sounding relieved. 

Our food came so luckily that conversation ended. They asked how we met and Brady and told them the story. Brady spent the rest of the meal talking about his job and the hospital and I was glad the attention was off me.

After Brady’s dad paid for everything, we walked outside to go to the party. His parents were walking a few feet ahead of us and Brady and I fell into step together.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked.

“Besides being grilled by your parents, I’m fine,” I said.

“Yeah, they’re pretty big Republicans. I probably should’ve metioned that.”

“That would have helped.”

“It’s okay though. Even if you don’t share the same view as them, they like that you have your own opinion and that you actually voted.”

I laughed and realized I was tipsy. “I actually didn’t really vote.”

Brady laughed too. “Dammit Reese.”

We boarded the yacht and immediately got complementary glasses of champagne. Since I was already feeling tipsy, I decided that I would have one glass and no more. I don’t know who was hosting the party, but there were a lot of older people on the yacht, dancing and talking and mingling. We grabbed a spot to sit on a striped couch.

“So, I hear you just had a birthday. What did you guys end up doing to celebrate?” Brady’s mom asked.

I suddenly remembered all the nasty hickeys I left on Brady’s neck and body and noticed that he’d worn a shirt buttoned all the way up to the collar to hide it. I smirked. 

“We had dinner with Reese’s friends,” he answered.

They continued asking random questions as the yacht took off into the lake. I was enjoying being on the water and even took a few pictures for Instagram (no drunk selfies though). About thirty minutes into the ride I started to feel weird. I figured it was from all the wine and champagne so I pushed my glass away and took a few deep breaths.

That didn’t help. I could feel every move the boat made and it was making me nauseas and dizzy. I tugged at Brady’s sleeve.

“I don’t feel well,” I whispered.

He was busy talking to his dad and ignored me. My entire body felt hot and my mouth was salivating like I was going to vomit. I swallowed a few times but the feeling didn’t go away.

“Brady,” I said, whacking his arm. He quickly spun around toward me. “I need to go to the bathroom, I’m sick.”

I stood up as Brady asked if I was okay. I held my hand up to signal that I was fine then scurried down to the cabin of the boat. Luckily, I found a bathroom just in time and slammed the door just before puking in the toilet. I started sweating as I kneeled in front of the porcelain throne. I started dry heaving and I heard a knock on the door.

“Reese?” Brady’s mom called. “Are you okay?”

Jeez, couldn’t I barf my brains out in private? I began throwing up again so I couldn’t answer.

“Reese?” she called again.

“I’m fine!” I gasped finally, hoping she would go away.

I vomited twice more and hugged the toilet for a few more minutes. I started to feel better so I heaved myself up and checked the mirror. I still felt a little bit icky, but it seemed like I was done throwing up. I quickly fixed my hair and dabbed my makeup in the mirror. Even though Brady’s mom had intruded on my barf sesh, I didn’t need everyone to know that I was seasick.

I opened the door to the bathroom and Brady’s mom was standing there waiting with a concerned look on her face. I was caught off guard that she was still waiting.

“I’m fine, thanks,” I said quickly.

“Reese, you aren’t…pregnant, are you?” she asked, sounding disgusted at the word.

I smiled. Pregnant? Yeah right. Brady and I have only been having sex for two weeks. “Of course not. I think I just have motion sickness.”

She looked at me skeptically. “Are you positive?”

“Yes. I probably had too much wine. There is no way I could be pregnant.”

“Okay.”

Suddenly, I was really irritated with her. Like it was my fault that the yacht was doing whatever the fuck it wanted to and made me sick.

“How long until this thing turns around and goes back to dry land?” I asked, walking past her.

“Probably another hour or so. I’m sure we can find someone with Dramamine, although if you’re hungover then that won’t help matters.”

Shade. 

“I’m not hungover.”

I walked back up the stairs in front of her and found Brady and his dad on the couch where we left them. Brady stood up.

“Reese, are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” I said, waving him away. I sat back down and started digging through my bag to find gum.

“Brady, go find her something to calm her stomach,” mom said.

“I don’t need anything,” I insisted but Brady was already on his way. So I was alone with the crazy Republicans.

“No one else has motion sickness,” Brady’s mom said, looking around the boat. “And the lake is fairly calm. So I think it is odd that you got sick.”

“You’re feeling better now, Reese?” Brady’s dad asked and he actually sounded genuinely concerned.

Brady appeared just as I said yes.

“Hey. I found a generic dimenhydrinate. Low dosage since you seem to be feeling better,” he explained and handed me a pill. 

“What did you say this was? I don’t want to be taking random drugs.”

Brady and I made eye contact and he smirked at me, like we were sharing an inside joke. I took the pill dry and we all sat back down and everything settled down.

“Why did you move to Illinois, Reese?” Brady’s dad asked.

“I love Chicago,” I said as if that was explanation enough.

“Texas is such a great place to live. The government is great, the taxes and cost of living are well below average… Illinois is just so corrupt,” dad said.

Brady’s mom nodded in agreement. “And it isn’t getting any better. That’s why we want Brady to come on home. Massachusetts is a wonderful state.”

I looked at Brady for a reaction. I remember he mentioned that he was considering moving home, but only once and he never spoke about it again. He kind of shrugged and took a drink from his bottle of water.

By the time the yacht finally got back to the dock, I was exhausted and just wanted to sleep. I hadn’t said anything for the last forty five minutes which has to be some sort of record.

“Well, it was very nice meeting you,” Brady’s mom said as we were preparing to say our goodbyes in the parking lot. And then to my surprise, she actually hugged me. It felt very strained and cold, but I at least appreciated her attempt to be more welcoming to me. I mean, since I’m going to be the mother of her grandchild apparently.

On the ride back, Brady apologized about his parents interrogating me but despite how they may have came off, he believes they like me.

I already know, I should have never mentioned Obama.

Standard

do i have a boyfriend?

I spent the night with Brady on Friday night (literally nothing happened) and he insisted we go for that run on Saturday morning. This is exactly what I meant by I don’t know how long I can fake it. I’m not a runner. I don’t like running and definitely not at 8:00 AM when I just want to snuggle in bed.

Brady took me home after that because I looked and felt disgusting. He told me he would come pick me up at 6:30 PM for the charity event.

I got lunch with Preston then we got pedicures and he waited while I got a trim. He said that he and Mr. Murphy went and looked at cars last week and he has his eyes on a Jeep. I wonder when Brady and I can go look at cars. I’m definitely ready for a new one. 

I did a light smokey eye for the event with a matte red lip and I was surprisingly 100% ready by the time Brady came to get me. I got out of the elevator and walked through my sprawling apartment lobby. 

“Looking good, Reese! Hot date?” Frank, my doorman, called. 

I smiled. “I suppose.”

Brady was parked illegally in the alley next to my building and was waiting outside his car for me.

When he saw me, he broke into a warm smile. “Wow.”

Brady looked really, really good in a tailored charcoal suit and black bow tie. We didn’t even plan it, but we were totally matching. Soulmates, I tell ya.

He kissed me on the cheek – probably because my red lips scared him – and opened the passenger door for me. The gala was held at a hotel not far from my apartment, in the ballroom on the 80th floor. There was a stage in the back of the room then a ton of circular tables with black tablecloths on them and rose centerpieces. Everyone was walking around the back half of the ballroom mingling and there were waiters running around with what looked like trays of champagne. I immediately snagged one from a passing waiter.

“Well, this is nice,” I said, sipping my champs. 

“Yeah, the hospital does it every year. It’s proven to be quite successful, I believe last year we were able to bring in almost $100,000 for the hospital,” Brady said.

“That’s amazing.” My champagne flute was now empty. Luckily there was a waiter nearby and I grabbed another one.

“How is it physically possible to not get lipstick all over the glass?” Brady asked.

I smiled and started to say, “Magic,” but a blonde girl was rapidly approaching us.

“Hi, Brady!” she sang loudly and threw her arms around him.

When they pulled apart, Brady said, “Reese, this is-”

And before he could finish his sentence, Blondie said, “Jessica,” and stuck out her hand for me to shake. I shook her hand like a professional adult and she gave me one of those limp princess handshakes.

I gave Jessica the once over. She stood at about Brady’s height so she was a few inches taller than me. She wore a cobalt blue midi dress that hugged her curves perfectly without being too Kim Kardash and dainty nude colored heels. I didn’t see her stop smiling once, but it was almost a condescending smile. I couldn’t put my finger on it. She looked like your stereotypical contestant on The Bachelor. I automatically hated her. 

“Jessica is one of the nurses at the hospital,” Brady explained.

“We do our rounds together sometimes,” Jessica continued.

“That’s fascinating,” I murmured.

“Wow Brady, I had no idea you had a girlfriend,” Jessica said with her smile still plastered on her face.

I quickly brought the champagne flute to my lips.

“Ummm…” Brady started and paused for an unnaturally long time. I couldn’t wait to see how he was going to handle this. I felt a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. 

“Yeah,” Brady finally uttered. 

“Nice meeting you,” Jessica said to me then grabbed Brady’s forearm. “Come find me later.”

“She was nice,” I said once she walked away. I sensed something between Brady and Jessica and I wanted the deets.

Brady didn’t give anything away. He just said, “She is. It is nice to have someone to talk to at work.”

I met Brady’s immediate boss, his boss’s boss and other important people from the hospital. It seemed like the champagne was never ending and it got to the point where the servers were handing me full glasses. Lol thanks. 

There was dinner and some speakers which was boring. I kept rubbing Brady’s leg with my foot and he would glance over smiling, but looking confused. Ugh, hasn’t he ever heard of playing footsie? After dinner, a live band starting playing so people could dance. I was drunk but not drunk enough to dance. I did however want to get out of there to hook up with Brady. I was horny and he looked so damn hot in that suit.

I waited while he stood talking to some coworkers and discreetly took some pictures for SnapChat. Finally, Brady turned to me and said he was getting tired.

“Me too,” I said with a smirk, hoping he caught my drift.

He said goodbye to everyone (including Jessica who insisted they hug again).

“So nice meeting you!” she smiled big at me, but I couldn’t help being annoyed with her.

Out in the hallway leading to the lobby, Brady stopped to use the restroom. I waited outside the door and texted Kendra that I planned on hooking up with Brady tonight. And then I got a brilliant idea.

As soon as I heard the bathroom door open, I pushed Brady back in and locked the door behind me.

“Wha-” he started, but I started kissing him. I wanted to hook up with him – now – in the bathroom. It would be so scandalous and risky. It was the perfect setting for our first time.

He tried to say something again, but I kissed him harder and pushed his suit jacket off so it was hanging off his arms. Brady was rigid, but he was returning my kiss so I thought he was into it. I made my way down to his belt and started undoing it. He started trying to push me away, but he was being way too gentle for Drunk Reese. 

“Reese,” Brady said, pulling away. He was pinned against the sink so he couldn’t go anywhere.

“Let’s have sex,” I said with a sneaky smile.

“Reese, no,” Brady said, pushing my hands away from his pants. I took this opportunity to try to get his suit jacket the rest of the way off.

“Live a little,” I continued on.

Every time I would try to take off a piece of his clothing he would say stop very nicely which obviously doesn’t mean anything to Drunk Reese. Finally, he grabbed both of my wrists and roughly yanked them down in front of me. 

“Reese, stop!” he said in a loud stern voice. The usual Drunk Reese wouldn’t have liked being almost-yelled at, but I was actually turned on by his assertiveness. I broke into a sly smile. Okay. We could wait until we got to his house. 

We filed out of the bathroom and rode in silence to his place. He was obviously annoyed with me, but at least he didn’t immediately take me home, I reasoned with myself. 

We got to his room and he went into the attached bathroom while I took off my dress and bra and changed into one of his t-shirts. I really need to start packing clothes in my purse (although I’m not sure they would’ve fit in my clutch last night).

I sat at the foot of the bed waiting for him to come out from the bathroom. I was thinking he would probably want to go to sleep right away since he seemed to be irritated with me.

Brady finally came out of the bathroom – he had taken off everything except his undershirt and slacks. I couldn’t read the look on his face. We made eye contact and he watched me while he crossed the bedroom and slowly made a beeline for me. It was an intense moment, almost creepy, and I thought he was going to kill me or something. I gave him my most innocent smile hoping he would spare my life. 

He stopped in front of me and kneeled down. I was confused and scared because I don’t know what Brady is capable of. And then he slid off my thong and put one of my legs over his shoulder. I had no choice but lean back on the bed and before I knew it, he was eating my vagina so good that I couldn’t see straight. I mean, this man knew exactly what he was doing. It wasn’t like he was just licking and sucking aimlessly, he had perfected the art of eating pussy. I’ve heard that when you enjoy performing oral your partner can tell, and I could definitely tell he was enjoying making me squirm like that.

I came in under ten minutes which I don’t think has ever happened before. I don’t know what I did to deserve that but I wasn’t complaining. Brady stood up and looked at me. I thought for sure this was it. We were finally going to have sex and I couldn’t fucking wait. If he could do that with his mouth, imagine what else he could do. 

He walked away and started getting undressed and I mentally prepared myself for what was about to happen. I watched Brady take off his shirt and change into a pair of shorts. Then he walked back to the bed and started pulling the comforter and sheets back.

“Come on, let’s go to bed,” he said. It was the first time either of us had said anything for at least half an hour.

So we weren’t hooking up? I nodded and crawled under the blankets. Brady climbed in after me and we laid there looking at each other. I kissed him lightly. 

“Hey,” Brady said, putting a hand on my hip. “Was what Jessica said weird?”

At first I didn’t know what he was referring to and almost told him that Jessica is weird all around. And then I remembered her “girlfriend” comment.

“No,” I said. “Not at all.”

“Okay.”

Brady pulled me closer and that was it. Was that our DTR? Do I have a boyfriend? 

We woke up and had cereal then watched tv for a little while. I couldn’t stop thinking about the night before and how much I had underestimated him. How could Anna ever let him go? I want to marry him and we still haven’t even had intercourse yet.

Standard

drunk reese strikes again.

On Friday night, Kendra, Preston, Carly and I went to a party at Preston’s boss’s – a cute high rise with scenic city views. It was an intimate little soirée and we had lots of champagne and vodka cranberries. We left at around 10:00 and weren’t ready to stop partying yet so we walked to a strip of bars a few blocks away. 

Preston bought us a round of Patron shots and as soon as I took it, I knew it was going to be one of those nights. We had another round of Patron, danced, took a few of pictures for Instagram, took a parting Patron shot and headed to the next bar. There, I ordered a vodka water. Vodka waters are a sign of desperation and they’re all I drank in college. The fact that I was indulging in vodka waters in my post-grad life was not a good sign. 

At some point, our group had gotten separated so Carly and I worked the bar – flirting with guys and getting free drinks until last call. 

We went outside to find our friends and I finally pulled my phone out of my Rebecca Minkoff clutch (I still had it in my possession. Small victories). I had several missed calls from Preston and Kendra and a text from Eric.

“Come over?” The timestamp said 10:22 PM. It was now 3:38 AM. 

I sat down on the curb (in my white Hudson jeans, ugh) and called Eric. He didn’t pick up and I figured he was probably sleeping.

“Reesie, Kendra says they’re coming out of the bar now. Do you want to get pizza?” Carly asked, drunkly. 

I ignored her and tried Eric again. So what if he was sleeping? Drunk Reese wanted to see him. He didn’t answer and I tried again right away. He finally picked up. 

“Yes?” He definitely sounded like he’d been sleeping. 

“Hey it’s me!” Drunk Reese exclaimed into the phone.

“Dammit Reese! It’s almost 4:00 in the morning!” Eric yelled. 

“I know, but I thought you wanted me to come over,” I said innocently.

“Hours ago. I’m fucking sleeping,” he grumbled into the phone.

“Wow, okay. I thought you wanted to hang out.” I felt the hot tears forming. Drunk Reese doesn’t like being yelled at. Sober Reese would have shouted back, hung up and never talked to him again, but Drunk Reese is much more fragile.

“Reese, I have to be up at 7:00. I don’t have time for this right now,” Eric said, softening his tone. 

“Well you didn’t have to yell and curse at me. I just thought you wanted to see me.” I was actually sobbing into the phone. I heard Preston and Kendra approach us but didn’t bother looking up at them. 

“I want to see you but not right now,” Eric said calmly. “I have something very important to do in the morning.” 

“More important than me I guess. Just like everything in your life,” I cried. 

I heard Preston ask who I was talking to and Kendra say she hoped it wasn’t Eric.

Eric sighed. “Don’t do this right now. I’m really tired. Can we talk tomorrow?”

“It is tomorrow!” 

Eric didn’t say anything.

“You’re so mean!” I was sobbing again and I heard Kendra tell me to get off the ground.

Eric let out a deep sigh. “Fine. Come over.” 

“K. Be there soon!” I said and hung up.

I stood up and turned to my friends with a big smile on my face – as if I hadn’t been bawling my eyes out seconds before. 

“I’m taking a taxi to Eric’s,” I announced. 

“So you don’t want to get pizza?” Carly asked.

“Reese, don’t go bother him. I’m sure he just wants to sleep,” Kendra said. 

“Yeah, with me!” I leaned in and gave them all hugs and then hopped in an idle taxi waiting on the curb.

When I got to Eric’s, he came down and let me in in just pajama pants. I never really stopped to appreciate his huge arms, pecs, 8 pack and delicious happy trail.

“Hiiiiii!” Drunk Reese squealed.

“Shhh. We are going to sleep immediately,” Eric said, leading me to the elevator.

When we got up to his apartment, Drunk Reese realized that she should’ve taken Carly up on that pizza offer.

“Do you have anything to eat? I’m starving,” I said. 

“No,” Eric said, walking to his bedroom. 

I ignored him and flipped on the kitchen light. I opened the fridge and found leftover pizza, leftover Chinese food, cheesecake, and fresh fruit – all of which looked absolutely delicious. 

“You lied!” I shouted, taking the box of pizza out the fridge. It appeared to be meat lovers, something Sober Reese would never partake in, but Drunk Reese was drooling like Pavlov’s dog.

I popped two slices in the microwave with no plate or paper towel under it and set it for two minutes. 

“What are you doing?” Eric asked from the bedroom. 

“Eating your pizza, liar. Can’t believe you didn’t wanna share with me!” 

I hopped up on the counter and texted Kendra letting her know that I was safe at Eric’s. After I ate both slices of pizza I dug into the cheesecake. It was divine. As I was shoveling a huge fork full of cheesecake and strawberries in my mouth, Eric appeared in the kitchen. 

“Reese, what the fuck are you doing?” he asked. 

“Do you want some cheesecake?” I held the box of cheesecake and fork out to him. 

“No. I want to go to sleep.”

I took one last bite of cheesecake and followed Eric out of the kitchen. I took off everything except my thong and climbed into bed.

“Eric, you seem upset. Are you mad at me?” I asked, putting my arm around him. 

He shook me off and said, “No. Just… Go to sleep.”

“K.” 

I rolled over and pinned a few things on Pinterest, commented “you look fugly. xo” on someone’s picture on Instagram, and added a dark selfie to my SnapChat story. Then I turned back to Eric and tapped his shoulder. 

“What Reese?” he asked, clearly fed up.

“Goodnight kiss?” I asked. 

He quickly turned around and kissed me hard. Luckily Drunk Reese fell asleep after that.

I woke up feeling like complete and utter shit. I don’t know who told me I had the right to drink vodka waters. Eric was standing at the foot of the bed, getting dressed and I debated pretending like I was asleep or getting up. My full bladder made the decision for me.

“Morning,” I said, climbing out of bed. I was still naked and my head was throbbing.

“Hey,” Eric said.

I breezed past him to the bathroom and tried to decide if I was going to apologize for my shenanigans. This was the second time Drunk Reese had come out to play at an inconvenient time and Eric was probably so over it/her. But I was drunk, what was I supposed to do? I finally decided that I was going to pretend that nothing happened. 

I left the bathroom and Eric was putting on his hat, preparing to leave. “Do you want a ride home?” 

“Yes. Just give me a minute to get dressed,” I said. I found all my clothing strewn across the bedroom floor and got dressed while Eric sat at the foot of the bed.

“What do you have to do this morning?” I asked, to break the silence.

“I have an appointment,” he said shortly. 

“Oh, that’s nice. Who with?” I pressed on. 

“My physical therapist. It’s starting in fifteen minutes,” he replied.

I assumed that meant I needed to hurry so I finished getting dressed and met him at the door. The car ride to my apartment was completely silent but he leaned over and kissed me when he dropped me off. 

“I hope your thing goes great,” I said as one last ditch effort to smooth things over.

He simply said, “Thanks,” and that was the end of that. 

I spent the rest of Saturday nursing my hangover.

*note: I’m doing a Q&A on the blog next week. Send your questions to hotmessinhighheels@gmail.com.

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