Bulky & Beauteous E-Book

Mary E. Thompson

• Herausgeber: BluEyed Press
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021

Beschreibung

Putting myself first has never been an option. Someone always needs me. My students, my friends, my sister. And I’m kind of sick of it.

Just once I want to be wild.

The sexy ski instructor with the endless patience and the looks that could melt all the snow on the mountain is the perfect person to be wild with. Joey lets me forget about everyone else and everything else. It’s fun. It’s freeing. It’s…

All going to come crashing down.

Leseprobe

BULKY & BEAUTEOUS

A SMALL TOWN CURVY GIRL ROMANCE

BIG & BEAUTIFUL

BOOK FOUR

MARY E THOMPSON

Bulky & Beauteous

Big & Beautiful, book four

Copyright © 2016 Mary E Thompson

Cover Copyright © 2019 Mary E Thompson

Cover Photo (woman) from DepositPhotos, Copyright © nelka7812

Cover Photo (cupcake) from DepositPhotos, Copyright © bhofack2

Published by BluEyed Press, All Rights Reserved

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. All characters, businesses, locations, and events are either products of the author’s creative imagination or are used in a fictitious sense. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Ebook ISBN: 978-1-944090-03-6

Print ISBN: 978-1-944090-11-1

Audiobook ISBN: 978-1-953879-96-7

Created with Vellum

BIG & BEAUTIFUL

Sometimes life throws you a surprise. And sometimes you play by the rules. Either way, life is better with cupcakes, and it’s better with curves. Enjoy it!

BIG & BEAUTIFUL

Chubby & Charming

Lush & Lovely

Shapely & Stunning

Bulky & Beauteous

Fat & Fine

Plump & Pretty

Husky & Hot

Fluffy & Fabulous

Puffy & Precious

Round & Ravishing

Curvaceous & Captivating

Stocky & Sumptuous

Amply & Alluring

Big & Beautiful Ever After (newsletter exclusive)

SUBSCRIBE NOW AT MARYETHOMPSON.COM

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Epilogue

About the Author

For my sister, who was there for me as I struggled to write this book, by my side during chemo, and cheering me on.

CHAPTER1

The bell rang, interrupting my sentence mid-way. “Okay, guys, have a great weekend. Eat lots of turkey. I’ll see you on Monday. No homework!”

Cheers followed my students out the door. I don’t think any of them expected homework over Thanksgiving break, but I always liked to clarify. I had a few students who loved homework, who craved the extra challenge. For those students I always held on to an extra assignment, just in case.

Kendall, one of my favorite students, stopped at my desk. “Miss James, I wanted to let you know my family is going out of town this weekend. I might not have time to do an extra assignment.”

I smiled. Kendall was one of the students who always looked for additional work. She was also one of the ones who consistently turned in high quality work. It was kids like Kendall that made me love being a teacher.

“It’s not a problem, Kendall. You can take the extra assignment if you want. If you don’t get to it, it won’t count against you. You know that.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, chewing on her bottom lip.

“Positive. It’s your choice.”

“Okay, thanks, Miss James. Have a great weekend.” Kendall waved the paper with the weekend assignment in the air as she vanished into the hallway.

Students rushed past my door, shouting to friends, slamming lockers, and running to catch their bus. The sounds of the end of my day were always welcome, even though I loved teaching. I felt like my life was defined by bells, from my alarm going off in the morning to the bells signaling the start and end of each period to the ringing of the phone in the middle of the night. Silence was welcome once the day ended, and I was more than ready for a four day weekend. One I hoped was without drama.

As the sounds outside the door died down I packed up my things for the afternoon. My second and third period classes had tests that I needed to grade, my fourth period class turned in a group project, and my sixth and eighth period classes had an experiment which took up the class time. Overall it was a good day, and the work would keep me busy through the weekend.

Of course that was assuming I didn’t get roped into my sister’s craziness.

I had time to relax during the winter with tennis done for the season and lacrosse not yet started. I coached both for Winterville High School for the last few years and loved it, but having time off was nice, too. Winter was usually a quiet season for me, and I was hoping it would stay that way for a while. It’d been a few weeks since I’d had to bail Cassandra out of trouble.

With my tests, projects, and experiment results all packed up, I pulled up the handle on my rolling computer bag (yes, I was well aware of how uncool I was) and headed for the door. As I was locking my door I heard a voice behind me. “I knew I’d find you here still. Are you up for a drink, Addi?”

I turned and grinned at Melanie Fletcher, a math teacher I’d bonded with over being the only women in male dominated teaching fields. Everyone always thought of teaching as a woman’s field, but once you decided you wanted to teach math or science you were thrown back into a man’s world, something Mel and I both struggled with.

Mel was exactly what I'd expected from a plucky new teacher. Blonde, cute, outgoing, and a great laugh. The surprise came when we became friends, especially since most of my friends came from the chubby end of the spectrum. When Mel dropped into a seat next to me in the teacher's lounge her first month of school and asked how I put up with the chauvinistic assholes we had to teach with, I knew we'd be friends.

“I’ve got tons of work to do, but I’m sure I could be talked into a drink.”

“Excellent,” Melanie grinned. “What’s Sam up to?”

Sam Reed was my best friend and roommate. We were assigned roommates our freshman year of college and when we both decided to stay in Winterville, New York after college at the town’s Erie University, we figured why not live together. We rented a two bedroom house near the center of town, close to Sam’s photography studio and not too far from Winterville High.

“I’m not sure. I’ll text her. Sam’s usually up for a drink.”

Mel and I laughed, knowing Sam rarely passed up a chance at a bitch fest and a beer. Or wine. Or anything else.

“How was your last day?” I asked Mel as we headed for the parking lot. A few parents were picking up kids in the teacher’s lot, but for the most part it was full of other teachers leaving for the weekend like we were.

Mel shrugged and tugged her jacket tighter. It was getting chilly, our first snowfall predicted for that night. “It was okay. My kids were ready to be done. I think you’ve got the right idea with an exam or something big the last day. They end up climbing the walls and making me crazy. I always have to repeat the lesson the following week because I know none of them actually retained any of it.”

I nodded, sympathetic. After almost seven years of teaching, I’d figured out a few tricks that made my life easier. Mel had only been teaching two years so she was still figuring out how to do things in a way that got the work done but didn’t make her crazy in the process.

“I did that for a few years, too. It just takes some figuring out to make it all work. When I plan my calendar I look at where the breaks are and back through my lesson plans from there. It takes some finagling every year, but it works out for the best when I can send the kids home without studying for a test or a big homework assignment over breaks. I always hated when teachers did that.”

Mel cringed beside me and I laughed. “You didn’t,” I said in an accusatory tone.

“I didn’t mean to, but my test falls next week. And they have to do some homework to make sure they’re prepared.”

“Oh, Mel, you’ll regret it. I’ll give you a tip… Don’t do it again over Winter Break.”

Mel laughed. “Yeah, I’m learning my lesson. Where do you want to go for a drink?”

I shrugged. “How about Janey’s?”

“Perfect. I’ll follow you.”

I stashed my bag in the backseat of my car and sent Sam a text. She was on board with going for drinks and said she’d meet us there.

A few minutes later I walked into Janey’s with a smile on my face. Mel and I started going there after work when she started. Part of me thinks she never would have lasted so long as a teacher if it weren’t for our nights out to bitch over beers at Janey's.

Janey's was your typical bar with dark lighting, the overarching smell of beer and sweat, and a pair of pool tables in the back. Janey, the owner, was a 50 something woman who’d clearly paid her dues. Tanned, wrinkly skin draped over her bones without much padding between the two. She was always behind the bar, offering customers a crooked grin and a dirty joke, or two. Her long gray braid flopped behind her as she worked the taps with the efficiency of someone who'd spent plenty of hours behind the bar.

Janey nodded to Mel and I and slid two mugs full of dark amber liquid to us. We raised our glasses in thanks knowing Janey would open a tab for each of us, as usual.

"To four day weekends," Mel said as she lifted her glass in the air. I knocked mine against hers and brought the frothy brew to my lips. The cool liquid slid down my throat in a most satisfying way, making me wish I could toss off my usual sense of responsibility and have more than one.

Sam joined us as Mel finished her first beer, mine still mostly full. "Hey ladies. How was the last day?"

"One of these days I'm going to listen to the brilliant woman sitting next to me. My students are going to have me fired if I don't."

Sam laughed, tossing her long, brown hair behind her shoulder. Her trademark red glasses framed rich brown eyes that never missed anything, even if you wanted her to. It had to be part of being a photographer that she took everything in. That and looking put together all the time. Sam was wearing dark jeans, a red cowl neck sweater, and brown boots. She was a little bigger than me, something we lamented over many times in college when the weather got warm and the skinny girls seemed to come out of the woodwork.

"I've learned over the years that it's almost always better to just listen to Addi. She knows what she's talking about. It's a little annoying to be around such perfection all the time, but I've gotten used to feeling inadequate next to her."

Mel snickered as I shoved Sam, nearly knocking her off the stool she was perched on. She deserved it. Sam caught herself with a slap on the bar, which earned her Janey's attention, and a dirty look. Sam held her hands up then pointed at me, trying to pass the buck. I shook my head and pointed right back, which made Janey roll her eyes and Mel laugh.

"She really is perfect, isn't she? I know my math, but scheduling is not my forte. Addi makes me feel like there isn't anything she can't do, and yeah, inadequate."

"Excuse me," I interrupted, not willing to sit back and let them talk about me without defending myself. "I am not perfect, not even close. I like to keep things in order, yes, but that doesn't mean there's something wrong with me, or either of you. I'm just particular."

I looked back and forth between them, knowing Sam understood much better than Mel why I was such a stickler for being organized. I'd shared a little with Mel, but not enough that she understood exactly what led me to my anal tendencies.

"I know," Sam acquiesced. "Truth be told, I'm not too different from her."

"What?" Mel squeaked, clearly frustrated at having been commiserating with someone who didn't get it at all. "You're as organized as she is?"

Sam shrugged and lifted the glass Janey set in front of her to her lips, her tongue darting out to capture the liquid left behind. "I run my own business. If I don't keep things organized, no one will. Living with her does make me a bit more aware of it though."

"I feel like such a screw up. Hell, the guy who came home with me last weekend woke me up when he was trying to sneak out because he tripped over a pile of clothes in front of the bedroom door," Mel confessed.

Sam and I glanced at each other then erupted in laughter. Sam slapped the bar again, earning another glare from Janey, which only made us laugh harder. My side pinched from the lack of air, but I couldn't stop picturing a half naked man sprawled in a pile of Mel's underwear. I knew Sam was thinking the same.

"How do you keep your lesson plans straight?" Sam asked Mel.

Mel shrugged. "Not very well, I guess."

We all laughed, even Mel. Being a teacher was harder than most people thought. Most of the parents assumed we had the easiest job in the world because we only worked about nine months of the year and taught the same thing year after year. Yeah, the schedule was awesome, but the work was hard. The work day and teaching was barely scratching the surface, and that still required endless patience, creative thinking, and time management skills Steven Covey could only dream of.

"I couldn't be a teacher. I love taking pictures of little kids, but working with them day in and day out, and being responsible for their education, I couldn't do it."

Mel and I exchanged a look that said we understood where Sam was coming from. There were plenty of days I wondered why I became a teacher. Then I'd see the lightbulb switch on for one of my students and I knew it was worth it.

"I'd much rather spend my days with a bunch of teenagers than a bride who thinks she's the queen of the world. Teenagers are trying to figure out who they are and where they belong in the world. It's a scary time for them, but also exciting. With adults, like your brides, I'd just want to strangle them. They're too spoiled and too old to be such bitches," I countered.

Sam shook her head. We'd had that argument many times over the years that we'd been friends. We both agreed the other was crazy and we'd never want each other's job. Then again, what keeps me away from photography and what keeps Sam out of teaching are the same things we each find most frustrating about our jobs.

But having friends you can bitch with makes it worthwhile.

“Yeah, but just like with your students, having that one perfect client, the one who falls completely in love with the way I captured her wedding day or her family or even the head shots for her business, she’s the reason I do it. Those other ones… they’re not that frequent. Usually.”

As Sam was talking I noticed Mel’s cheeks turning pink and her eyes darting back to the pool tables. When I followed her glance I saw a table of four guys playing pool, clearly more interested in the scenery than in the game. One was making eyes at Mel, which she was clearly encouraging, two were watching a pair of women sitting at one of the tables, and the fourth was staring right at me.

Holy hot damn, he was sexy.

His lips turned up in a way that said he knew exactly what I was thinking, but somehow it didn’t seem cocky on him. He was wearing a red and black ski jacket, and he was hot with a capital H. His hair had that effortlessly perfect look guys could pull off, you know where you could tell he’d been running a hand through it all day, but it still looked sexy. His eyes were locked on mine and even though I didn’t know what color they were, I could tell I’d be hooked by them. The scruff on his chin added to my intrigue.

But what drew me to him more than any of those things was the tilt of his lips and the brightness in his eyes when he grinned at me. A grin that said I was totally busted, but he was happy to have me look. When his friend nudged him our eye contact finally broke and I was able to breathe again.

“He’s cute, Ads. You should go talk to him,” Sam said, raising her glass to her lips. She knew I didn’t pick up guys in bars. Hell, I didn’t pick up guys anywhere. I was in a dry spell so long I was pretty certain my vagina had withered into a raisin. Sam was the adventurous one, the one who could talk to guys. I was the one who hid in the shadows and waited until everyone needed a ride home. I played it safe.

Always.

I shook my head at Sam and gave one last wistful look to the guy at the pool table. He was talking to his friend, the one who was still checking out Mel. “Maybe one day I’ll let go. But not today. Hey Mel, you might want to go to his house. Then you won’t have to worry about him suffocating in a pile of your dirty laundry when he sneaks out.”

Mel shot me a dirty look while Sam and I cackled then slid off her bar stool. She gloated, “Don’t wait up ladies.”

Sam and I had gotten used to Mel disappearing into the crowd. God knew if I had her figure I’d take advantage of it too.

Well, I’d like to.

Shit, no. I wouldn’t.

But that didn’t mean she should go home alone like I always did. I didn’t begrudge Mel, or anyone else, a good time. Just because I couldn’t let go and act like none of it mattered didn’t mean everyone had to live that way. God knew I wish I could just have fun once in a while. Go home with a guy and put an end to my dry spell. Or better yet, never have had one in the first place.

But that wasn’t me. I’d been to too many shady apartments and too many clubs after closing to put myself in a situation like that. I wasn’t going there.

Even if it meant hanging a Closed For Business sign on the front of my pants.

“Well, if you’re not going to take advantage of the hottie checking you out then we can go home. Grease is on TV tonight.”

I smiled and finished the last of my beer. Sam and I each threw some cash on the bar. “Danny Zuko is going to have to get me through another night.”

“Ew, I didn’t need to know you masturbated to Danny Zuko!” Sam exclaimed.

I just rolled my eyes. Only Sam would go there.

CHAPTER2

The shrill ring of my phone woke me from a dead sleep. I was dreaming about the hottie I’d seen at the bar, his hands wandering over me like they owned my body. I was wet, hot damn, was I wet. There was nothing I wanted more than to finish that dream, but unfortunately, duty called.

Literally.

I didn’t even have to look at the phone to know who was calling me. It was 4 am, closing time. Which meant I had another pick up to make.

“Where are you?” I whispered into the phone, desperate not to wake Sam up. She was a light sleeper and usually rode with me, but I always felt bad. It wasn’t her responsibility.

“Addi! Can you come get me?” the whiney voice penetrated what was left of my sleepiness and I was suddenly wide awake. That tone catapulted me back to the first time she’d called, scared and alone and needing me. In high school it scared me more than I ever admitted to anyone. I thought for sure my parents would kill me for sneaking out of the house, but she was my sister, and I couldn’t leave her.

“Where are you, Cass?” I said as I pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.

Cassandra was four years younger than me and had always been a party girl. That first phone call came when I was only a junior in high school, just a few weeks after I’d gotten my license. Cassandra snuck out to a party and got so high she didn’t know which way was up. Yeah, she was 13. It was the most terrifying night of my life. I didn’t know if she was going to survive, but she begged me not to tell our parents.

I’d been covering for her ever since.

“At a party,” the slurred speech came back. “Edge of town. Cold Front Road. I’m cold. Hurry.”

The word hurry always got to me, something Cassandra figured out years before. If she told me to hurry I got anxious that she was in danger and drove even faster to get to her. The sound of that one word falling from her lips always brought me back to the first phone call, and the urgency and panic I felt that night.

Now, 12 years later, I was still jumping at the sound of my sister’s scared voice.

I ducked out of my room, keys in hand, and headed to the front door. As I was slipping on my sneakers I heard Sam’s door open. “Where to tonight?”

“Go back to bed, Sam. You don’t need to deal with this.”

She ignored me, like she always did, and slid her feet into her boots. Sam followed me out the door dutifully, like the best friend she was.

Twenty minutes later we pulled up in front of a house that was clearly the party. People were passed out on the lawn, music poured from the open windows, and yelling could be heard even through the closed car doors. I saw Cassandra draped over a guy who was half dragging her toward his car. He stumbled as he walked, telling me he was almost as messed up as my sister.

Sam and I bolted out the door, barely slamming the car into park before we were gone. I reached Cassandra’s side just as he lowered her into his car.

"What the fuck?" the drunk shouted in my ear. He grabbed my shoulder and turned me roughly, my back slamming into the door frame of his car. Sam grabbed Cassandra's arm and started tugging her out of the car.

"She's not going anywhere with you," I growled at the man who hovered over me. His breath stunk of stale beer and cigarettes, and something else that I'd come to identify as angry male. He was a good eight inches taller than me and used his height to appear more menacing than he probably was. Being drunk helped him feel tougher too, I'd learned from these encounters.

"What do you two fat bitches think you're gonna do about it?" he snarled at me, taking Sam in with his gaze.

Fat bitches. Wow, he was original. Not. In the twelve years I'd been rescuing Cassandra I'd been called everything under the sun, but insulting my weight was the favorite among the drunk or high assholes my sister was always attracted to. It made me wonder what she really thought, but I couldn't go there while I was facing down the latest adversary.

"Well, first, my friend is going to remove my sister from the car. Second, we are going to carry her to my car. And third, we're going to drive away. Through all this you're going to stand aside quietly and let us go."

He laughed loudly, throwing his head back and bellowing like I'd just told him the funniest joke he'd ever heard. Sam and I took advantage of it and had Cass out of the car and standing between us, her arms looped around our shoulders so we could drag her to the car together.

When he finally stopped laughing, he glared at us, his eyes struggling to focus as he looked from Sam to Cass to me. "That bitch promised me a good time. She's not going anywhere until she does all the dirty shit she said she would."

"She's not even conscious," Sam argued with him, further goading the smug piece of shit.

"A promise is a promise," he gloated, running his tongue over his slightly yellowed teeth as he checked out my sister. "I don't need her conscious to have fun. I just need a place to shove my dick. Better yet, maybe I should take you two with us."

He stepped forward, menacing eyes scanning Sam and I from head to toe. We'd been through it before so neither of us was falling for his shit, but he was big. And scary.

My heart pounded as he took another step and I wound up and brought my knee up hard into his crotch. He stumbled backward, his knees giving out as his hands flew to his balls, checking to see if they were still attached. Sam and I quickly moved past him, stopping only when he screamed at our backs. "I'll get you bitches!"

"If we ever see you again, or hear you've come near her again, your balls will be the least of your concerns. We've been recording this whole interaction, including your license plate number. We ever see you again and every word you just said, like how you don't need a conscious woman to enjoy yourself, just a hole, will become public record. I'm pretty sure you'd find out what men in prison think about your... hole."

Sam snickered at my words as we drug Cassandra to the car. The asshole insulted us with very colorful language but didn't get up from the ground. Once we had Cass laid out in the backseat, Sam and I got in the car and I started breathing again.

"Thanks," I said to her as I pulled away from the curb.

"Any time. You know we really do need to start recording these assholes one of these days. At least snapping a pic of the license plate just in case."

I laughed and shook my head. The men my sister picked up were always afraid to get reported. Once Sam and I figured out that threatening them with calling the cops made them back off, we did it every time. Of course my knee meeting their nuts helped, too.

* * *

The next morning I woke to the sound of Cassandra emptying her stomach in my bathroom. Sam helped me drag her to the couch and we put a trash can under her nose before we both passed out again. In the not so bright light of the morning, I questioned, again, why I bothered helping Cassandra.

The sound of her wrenching filled my ears again, making sleep impossible. Groaning, I rolled out of bed and padded into the kitchen. By the time Cass stopped throwing up and I heard the sink running, Sam was in the kitchen, coffee was done, and two slices of toast popped up from the toaster.

"Remind me again why we spend all our weekends chasing your sister instead of being chased by some hot men," Sam begged in a groggy morning voice.

"I was wondering the same thing. I wish I could let go like she does and not care about what sort of situation I ended up in," I confessed.

Sam snorted. "Yeah, but who would drag your ass home? Cassandra? You couldn't do what she does because you have a brain. And a decent amount of common sense."

I nodded in agreement then froze when I heard Cassandra clear her throat behind us. Sam and I exchanged guilty looks, feeling bad for telling the truth about my disaster of a sister.

"Thanks," Cass said, uncharacteristically. "One of these days I need to turn my life around. Be more like you, Addi. I'm sorry I keep dragging you into my messes. I won't call you anymore."

"Aw, Cass, don't be like that. You know I'll always be there to help you."

"Yeah, because I have no brain and no common sense." Cass took a deep, shuddering breath and continued, "I guess she's right though. I'm a mess. If you weren't always there to save me God only knows what sort of trouble I'd have gotten in. I'd probably be dead by now. I’d probably still be a virgin, too.”

"Cass, don't get so upset. Sam just meant-"

"She meant I'm a complete fuck up and all I do is screw up your life. Hell, I'm probably the reason you don't have a life!"

Damn, that one hurt.

My hand flew to my chest unconsciously. I sucked in a sharp breath as tears burned my eyes. "I have a life, Cass. I have a job I love, a great group of friends, and I'm happy."

"Oh, please," Cass said sharply, "you're making me bored just talking about it. Where's the fun, the adventure? Neither of us has figured it out yet. I'm a disaster, but at least I'm not hiding away, existing instead of living."

A quick pain shot through my chest, Cassandra's words hitting their mark. She knew exactly what to say to make me feel like shit for her being so screwed up. We'd had the same argument many times over the years, where she'd say she was going to change, then accuse me of being boring. No matter how many times she said it, it always hurt. I couldn't let it go the way I did with the drunk assholes I rescued her from. Those were just faceless men, no one of significance. But Cassandra... I couldn't push past the angry words my sister said to me.

Not when I knew they were true.

"I gotta go home. Mom wants me there early to help her with the sweet potato casserole. I'll see you later," Cass said, then left.

The silence that filled the kitchen echoed around in my head. Sam didn't say anything, just let me process. I knew she was trying to help, but what I really wanted was to hear that Cassandra was wrong. I wasn't boring, I wasn't existing, I was living my life.

But Sam wouldn't lie to me.

She'd been trying to get me to go out with her. Whenever she was dating someone new she offered to set me up with one of his friends. She pushed, gently, but it was still there. Sam agreed with Cassandra.

After all it’d only been a month since Lexi’s mom’s wedding when Sam tried to talk me into having some fun, changing things a bit.

"You don't have to live your life like her. You know that right?" Sam said finally. Her voice was soft, something I never associated with my tough as nails best friend. Sam didn't do soft unless she was trying to lessen the blow of what she was saying.

"She's right and you know it. I haven't had a real relationship since Steve, and that was more than five years ago. The most action I get is going to the gynecologist every year. I live in fear, playing it safe. You've been telling me the same thing for years, just not as directly."

"Yeah, well, your sister is a bitch. I'm sorry, but that's the truth. She never should have said those things to you. There's nothing wrong with how you live your life. I push because I want you to be happy. Once upon a time you talked about getting married, having a family. Hell, even getting a cat. Lately all you've done is work and hang out with everyone. And rescue Cass. If you're happy, then good. But I see the way you look at Mandy and Xander, Claire and Aidan, and now Lexi and Mike. You want that. And it's okay to want that, but you need to put yourself out there if you're ever going to get it."

Sam was right. As our friends found love I wanted it more and more. No matter what though, it always seemed like love was just out of reach.

Not that I'd been trying very hard. Putting myself out there, taking a chance... I had a hard time doing that. Maybe it was time to change that.

"It's hard, Sam. I don't know how you date so many guys and don't think twice when a relationship implodes. I couldn't handle it. Or how Lexi could have no strings attached sex with Mike.”

Sam shrugged and poured herself a cup of coffee. As she spread butter over the toast I made for Cassandra she said, “For one, Lexi wasn’t able to do it without strings. She and Mike fell for each other. As for me,” Sam shrugged. “You get used to it. I don't go into a relationship waiting for it to fail. I go in looking to have fun. As long as I am having fun, it's all good. If a relationship works out, then great. If not, I'll find another one."

It sounded so simple from Sam's point of view. Have fun. If I stop having fun then it's time for the relationship to be over.

I laughed to myself. Like I could ever sit back and just enjoy something. I’d always waited for relationships to blow up in my face. Granted I knew that was part of why they did. I brought it on myself. I wasn’t one of those nit picky women who pointed out every little thing a guy did wrong, but I certainly didn’t avoid issues either.

Damn. I didn’t know if it was in me to just chill out and let it happen.

“It’s not you, Addi. You shouldn’t try to be me, or to be Cassandra. Just be you. If that’s not good enough for people then screw ‘em. You’ll find someone one day who’ll make you want to come out of your hole and try again. Until then, don’t worry about it.”

Sam breezed out of the kitchen like she’d just told me it was going to rain later. She had no idea how much her words stung. I wasn’t trying to hide, but I wasn’t going to go around screwing every guy out there either. But being Cassandra seemed so much easier at times.