Hi all! Here's an update to my story. The one last week was on the shorter side, so this one is on the longer side!
Chapter 4
Table of Contents
Sunday, May 31, 2020
Saturday, May 30, 2020
Building Love Final Chapter Finally
Hello everyone!
So I've noticed there hasn't been much activity in the blog lately. (Thank you Annabelle for publishing again.) So I thought I should seize the opportunity and finally publish the ending of a story I published 4 years ago. Yeah, 4 years ago. So I published all of 15 chapters of Building Love and then stop short of writing the final chapter. I’m so sorry about that. At the time, I ended up in the hospital for a long time, and then… well, let’s just say that life -or maybe my psychological issues- got in the way.
Anyways, I finished the novel about a year ago and then never published it for some reason. But now, here it is. I hope some of the older and very loyal readers still remember Building Love. If not, here’s the Table of Contents so you can read it from the beginning. I know I hold dear some of the stories that have been published here and I haven’t forgotten them over the years.
So, without further ado, I give you the final chapter of Building Love with all my love and a big apology for the extremely long wait.
I really hope you enjoy it:
Isabel and Eli had a terrible fight when Isabel found out that Eli had considered she might be with him over money. Can they fix things and fulfill the love they have been building?
Building Love Final Chapter
Friday, May 29, 2020
Update to Not Gay
I swear I planned to update last week, and then I went swimming instead (In a completely socially-distanced fashion of course. The lake was ice cold and no one else was stupid enough to get into it. I spent the rest of the day shivering in the RV, wearing three layers of clothing, while outside kids were playing in shorts). Now, with some delay, dev-geared dirty talk and still a little damp: Chapter 17!
Lovis
TOC
Lovis
TOC
Sunday, May 24, 2020
Update to My Ex's Wedding
Here's another update to my story! As always, I appreciate the comments!
Chapter 3
Table of Contents
Chapter 3
Table of Contents
Sunday, May 17, 2020
Update to My Ex's Wedding
Monday, May 11, 2020
Exciting News
Hi readers of my stories, 💖
I am happy to announce that I finally did it; published my first ebook for Kindle on Amazon.
This is a big deal for me as it's something I would have never imagined. I also thought that I wouldn't be able to figure it out or do it at all. But I was up for the challenge and Covid happened. I will always remember this time of Covid19 as the time I took the leap of diving into my writing and publishing my first novel.
As some of you know, I have been writing for a long time and I have been learning so much by writing and studying grammar rules and things like that.
I am a middle aged woman, English is not my first language, so it was a big deal for me to even take the leap and start posting stories on the Devotee Fiction Blog a few years ago. I have evolved in my writing abilities, I have learned so much; my English teacher Mrs. Schmitt would be so happy and proud of me. She would possibly also be a little bit shocked what I'm writing about. 😀
I know I am not perfect; this is my hobby, but if some people enjoy my stories, my heart couldn't be happier. I have exceeded my own expectations and abilities of myself.
Writing has been a tool for me to process my devness and it has been a tremendous outlet of lots of things.
I will get better and I will have to work over and remaster all the stories I have posted on the Fiction Blog; I plan on publishing all of them. I will keep on writing and have lots of ideas still in my head or already started writing on other stories. This is one the best gifts to myself for Mother's Day.
Anyways, here is a link to my book on Amazon, check it out, download a sample or look inside to get a glimpse.
Thank you to all my Blog readers over the years who enjoy my stories and have followed along. All of you have meant so much and you are part of the reason I am doing this.
So I leave you with this link and hope you will enjoy "Will Love Prevail" once more, edited and worked over to my best ablities and for your reading pleasure.
Sending you lots of love and virtual hugs,
Yours, Dani 😘
Will Love Prevail-Dani-Deveaux-ebook
I am happy to announce that I finally did it; published my first ebook for Kindle on Amazon.
This is a big deal for me as it's something I would have never imagined. I also thought that I wouldn't be able to figure it out or do it at all. But I was up for the challenge and Covid happened. I will always remember this time of Covid19 as the time I took the leap of diving into my writing and publishing my first novel.
As some of you know, I have been writing for a long time and I have been learning so much by writing and studying grammar rules and things like that.
I am a middle aged woman, English is not my first language, so it was a big deal for me to even take the leap and start posting stories on the Devotee Fiction Blog a few years ago. I have evolved in my writing abilities, I have learned so much; my English teacher Mrs. Schmitt would be so happy and proud of me. She would possibly also be a little bit shocked what I'm writing about. 😀
I know I am not perfect; this is my hobby, but if some people enjoy my stories, my heart couldn't be happier. I have exceeded my own expectations and abilities of myself.
Writing has been a tool for me to process my devness and it has been a tremendous outlet of lots of things.
I will get better and I will have to work over and remaster all the stories I have posted on the Fiction Blog; I plan on publishing all of them. I will keep on writing and have lots of ideas still in my head or already started writing on other stories. This is one the best gifts to myself for Mother's Day.
Anyways, here is a link to my book on Amazon, check it out, download a sample or look inside to get a glimpse.
Thank you to all my Blog readers over the years who enjoy my stories and have followed along. All of you have meant so much and you are part of the reason I am doing this.
So I leave you with this link and hope you will enjoy "Will Love Prevail" once more, edited and worked over to my best ablities and for your reading pleasure.
Sending you lots of love and virtual hugs,
Yours, Dani 😘
Will Love Prevail-Dani-Deveaux-ebook
Sunday, May 10, 2020
New Story from Annabelle: My Ex's Wedding
Hi all! I heard things were dying down on the blog, so I decided to post this novel I wrote a couple of years ago. I hope you enjoy it and are staying healthy!
Alex
“The wedding is in four weeks.”
Isabelle is watching my face as she
speaks. She’s talking to me in a slow,
sweet voice, like I’m some kind of fucking mental patient. Lot of people speak to me that way these
days, but I don’t expect it from Isabelle.
She knows me better. She should,
anyway.
Or should I say, she used to.
“We’re having it in Las Vegas,” she
goes on, as if I had responded in some way.
A smile touches her lips but not her eyes. Isabelle turned thirty a few months ago, but
she doesn’t look any older than she did when we first met. I, on the other
hand, hit the big three-five six months ago and immediately noticed a few
strands of gray at my temples.
But let’s face it—that’s the least
of my problems.
Wednesday, May 6, 2020
Devo Diary completed
Hi again, in case you missed it, last week I posted the final chapter of Devo Diary. Huge thanks again to everyone for reading and commenting, especially to the people who have been reading from the beginning. Thank you!
For anyone who is new or just finding Paradevo for the first time, Devo Diary is my memoirs of my dating life through my 20s and 30s, trying to find the disabled guy of my dreams. I changed the names and some identifying details but it's all completely true. It's been a very rewarding experience to write it all down and share it, to get something positive out of so many terrible, misguided relationships. I wrote it so that other devs might learn from my many mistakes and to show what dating as a dev is really like. So many of us have similar struggles but if we don't share, we would never know it.
Here is the updated Table of Contents with links to every chapter. Or you can click the tag Devo Diary, or scroll down to the dates, starting with December 2010.
I'm sorry to be ending my regular posts when the site is going relatively quiet. I'm working on another historical novel but I'm not going to post anything from that until it's finished, which will take a while. But I hope other dev authors will start posting. And of course you're welcome to join the message board. Thanks again, and see you round!
For anyone who is new or just finding Paradevo for the first time, Devo Diary is my memoirs of my dating life through my 20s and 30s, trying to find the disabled guy of my dreams. I changed the names and some identifying details but it's all completely true. It's been a very rewarding experience to write it all down and share it, to get something positive out of so many terrible, misguided relationships. I wrote it so that other devs might learn from my many mistakes and to show what dating as a dev is really like. So many of us have similar struggles but if we don't share, we would never know it.
Here is the updated Table of Contents with links to every chapter. Or you can click the tag Devo Diary, or scroll down to the dates, starting with December 2010.
I'm sorry to be ending my regular posts when the site is going relatively quiet. I'm working on another historical novel but I'm not going to post anything from that until it's finished, which will take a while. But I hope other dev authors will start posting. And of course you're welcome to join the message board. Thanks again, and see you round!
Monday, May 4, 2020
Last Chapter - What It Was
Hi my favorite readers, 💖
wow, it has been a journey once again. I have felt deeply writing this story and it has sometimes taken lots of emotional energy, but I loved every minute of it. When I first jotted down the idea for this story I never imagined it would also turn into a full on novel.
I am thankful for each and everyone of you wherever you are in this world for reading my story and following along until the end. 🤩
I had thought about writing a longer last chapter but came to the conclusion that not much had to be said anymore and with that I have only written an Epilogue to What It Was.
So with this, I thank you again from the bottom of my heart and give you Epilogue What It Was Let me know your thoughts one last time. I hope you enjoyed another story of mine.
I'm now going to focus on finally realizing my publishing dream and I hope that if you like my style and my stories, you will stay with me as I make my first fully edited book "Will Love Prevail" available on Kindle for you very soon. I will let you know here when it launches.
Lots of Love, 💕
Hugs, Dani
Table of Contents "What It Was" TOC What It Was
wow, it has been a journey once again. I have felt deeply writing this story and it has sometimes taken lots of emotional energy, but I loved every minute of it. When I first jotted down the idea for this story I never imagined it would also turn into a full on novel.
I am thankful for each and everyone of you wherever you are in this world for reading my story and following along until the end. 🤩
I had thought about writing a longer last chapter but came to the conclusion that not much had to be said anymore and with that I have only written an Epilogue to What It Was.
So with this, I thank you again from the bottom of my heart and give you Epilogue What It Was Let me know your thoughts one last time. I hope you enjoyed another story of mine.
I'm now going to focus on finally realizing my publishing dream and I hope that if you like my style and my stories, you will stay with me as I make my first fully edited book "Will Love Prevail" available on Kindle for you very soon. I will let you know here when it launches.
Lots of Love, 💕
Hugs, Dani
Table of Contents "What It Was" TOC What It Was
Friday, May 1, 2020
My Ex's Wedding, Chapter 9
Alex
Parker Ashmont.
Parker fucking
Ashmont.
I haven’t heard
his voice in four years, but somehow, I have no problem recognizing it. He’s
usually the loudest guy in any room, and he talks like he knows more than any
of us. I was one of the few people who used to call him on his bullshit—most
people didn’t have the guts. But I was never afraid of guys like Parker. That
asshole was all talk.
“Hey!” Parker’s
voice carries across the Coffee Bean from wherever he’s standing. “Giant
wheelchair! That’s gotta be Alex Warner!”
And then he’s in
my line of sight, standing right in front of me. I haven’t seen the guy in four
years, but he hasn’t changed much in that time. Same broad shoulders, same
blond hair, clipped slightly shorter than it was last time I saw him, maybe a
couple of extra lines on his face, but who’s counting?
His hand drops
onto my shoulder, one of the few places I can still feel. I want to tell him to
get his hand the fuck off me, but I bite my tongue.
“I can’t believe
it’s you, man!” Parker says. “Shit, it’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”
I tear my eyes
away from Isabelle, who is still looking shell-shocked, and force a smile. “Yeah,
it has.”
Parker takes his
hand off my shoulder and drops into the seat next to Isabelle. He swings one
arm around her shoulders, and maybe it’s my imagination, but she seems to
flinch. He plants a big, sloppy kiss on her cheek. “You two having fun catching
up?”
“Uh huh,”
Isabelle manages.
Parker swings his
attention back in my direction. “I swear to God, Alex, I never thought you’d
show up here in a million years. I told Izzy you were messing with her when you
said you wanted to come.”
“Well, here I am,”
I say.
He narrows his
eyes, looking me over more carefully. I’ve seen very few of my old coworkers
from Coleman since my injury, and the way he’s looking at me makes me grateful
for this. I see him looking at my immobile legs in the footplate, the straps
holding my body in the chair, my arms lying quietly on either side of me, and
finally, at the sip and puff controls.
“That’s some
machine you got there, Warner,” Parker says. “How fast does that thing fly?”
“Five miles per
hour,” I say.
He nods. “Not
bad.”
My wheelchair is
technically capable of going five miles an hour, but my controls set the
default maximum speed at two-and-a-half miles per hour, so that’s the fastest I
ever go. I had a few minor collisions (mostly with inanimate objects), and I
got nervous when I was going much faster than that. It’s not a bad speed—slower
than a brisk walk, that’s for sure, but it’s the right speed to keep pace with
my elderly parents when I’m out with them. I do sometimes notice Doug slows
down to keep pace with me, and so did Nellie, but that’s fine. It’s not like
I’m ever in a hurry.
“How does it
work?” Parker asks. “Are those the controls by your face?” Without asking, he
grabs the sip and puff tube with his hand. What the hell is wrong with him? I
have to put that tube in my mouth,
and now he’s gotten his greasy fingers all over it. “Do you bite it or
something?”
“I blow in it to
move forward,” I explain.
Thankfully, he
lets go of the control, but he’s twisted it to the side. I’m not entirely
certain I’ll be able to reach it anymore. I want to check, but I don’t want
Parker and Isabelle to watch me flailing around, attempting to grab the tube
with my mouth. I’ll deal with it when they leave, when Nellie is back here to
help me.
Parker is
studying my face in a way that makes me uncomfortable. “I heard you’re living
with your parents. That must be rough.”
“It’s fine,” I
mumble.
He lets out a
guffaw. “Bullshit. If I had to live with my parents, I’d be going batshit
crazy.”
“It’s fine,” I
say again. “My parents are nice.”
“Yeah, well.” He
shrugs. “If you ever feel like you need to get away, gimme a call. We’ll go get
drinks.”
“Thanks,” I say. I
have no intention of ever calling him and he knows it.
“Or Izzy.” Parker
nudges Isabelle. “I bet she’d be happy to drive out to Long Island and hang
with you. Right, Izzy?”
“Sure,” Isabelle
says weakly. I remember how much she hated it when he called her “Izzy,” and
here they are, about to get married, and he’s still doing it. Is it possible
she’s changed her mind?
Parker tips back
in his seat, just staring at me. It’s rude. It’s fucking rude. Who stares at
someone like that? I’m not a freak in a circus. If he hadn’t moved my controls,
I’d be backing myself out of here. But the more I look at the controls, the
more convinced I am that it’s out of my reach. I’m stuck.
“You know,
Warner,” Parker says, “I really admire you.”
I don’t like
where this is going. “Yeah?”
“Oh yeah.” He
nods vigorously. “If that happened to me—if I couldn’t move my body like you, I
honestly don’t think I’d be able to go on. I’d have gone to one of those
euthanasia centers.”
“I don’t think
they have those in this country,” I mutter.
“Well, I would
have gone to Amsterdam or wherever the fuck they are,” he says. “I’m just
saying, I wouldn’t have been able to cope. But look at you.” He flashes me a
smile that shows all his perfect, white teeth. “You’re out in public, took a
plane to fucking Vegas, going about your life in that bigass chair. I admire
you the hell out of you.”
It’s the classic
Parker backhanded compliment. I admire
you, because if I were in your shoes, I would wish I were dead. I look at
Isabelle, who recognizes how incredibly insulting her “sweet and sensitive”
Parker is being, but she doesn’t say anything. No surprise there.
I want to tell
him where he can shove it, but no. I need to be civil. Not until I’ve done what
I need to do here.
Not until he and
Isabelle are over.
“I’m sure you’d
get used to it,” I say. “Just like I have.”
“No,” he says
firmly. “I couldn’t do it. You got real cojones,
Alex. I mean it.” He laughs. “Even if you can’t feel your cojones anymore.”
My face
burns—that was too far. “Fuck you, Parker,” I spit at him.
He laughs harder.
“Don’t be so goddamn sensitive. I’m just messing around with you.”
I want to punch
him. I want to do it so bad, it’s amazing to look down at my right hand and see
it hasn’t moved at all. It seems like the anger I have for Parker should
surpass any sort of spinal cord injury. This seems like the miracle moment in
the Hallmark movie where the guy all the doctors swore was paralyzed forever
somehow leaps out of his wheelchair and punches the bad guy square in his
perfect, Aquiline nose.
But no. I’m still
paralyzed. I’m not going to punch Parker in the nose. Not in this lifetime.
“Parker,”
Isabelle says before I can tell her fiancé where he can shove it, “we should
probably get going soon. We’re meeting everyone at the karaoke bar at six.”
“We’ve got time.”
He waves his hand. “Alex, you ought to come. Karaoke. Lots of hot girls there. Some
of them can probably even be bought. Wink, wink.”
“Actually,” I say
tightly, “I’ve got a girlfriend.”
Maybe it wasn’t a
mistake to tell Isabelle that Nellie was my girlfriend. In any case, I already
did it—may as well use it.
“No kidding!”
Parker grins at me. “Warner, you dog. You still get around, don’t you?”
“She’s really
sweet,” Isabelle says quickly. “I met her when I got here.”
“Sweet, huh?” His
grin broadens. “And when do I get to meet this sweet girlfriend of yours?”
Never. I don’t
want Parker to ever lay his eyes on Nellie. And if I can persuade Isabelle
she’s making a mistake before the wedding, I won’t have to.
Nellie
I should probably
get back to Coffee Bean.
It’s been about
forty-five minutes. Is that long enough for Alex to tell Isabelle she’s making
a mistake and for her to tell him as kindly as she can that she’s still going
ahead with the wedding? Because honestly, there’s no chance he’s talking her
out of it. She’s getting married in two
days. She’s not going to call it off. No way. He’s deluded.
Anyway, I’m
heading over there. I’ve already lost ten dollars at video poker.
When I get to
Coffee Bean, I immediately see Alex’s wheelchair through the glass of the door.
He’s facing away from the door so I can’t see his face, but I assume he’s the
only person in the vicinity in a large power wheelchair with a headrest. And
Isabelle is sitting across from him, an uncomfortable expression on her face. And
sitting next to Isabelle, with his hand slung around her narrow shoulders, is…
Parker Ashmont.
Chief Douchebag
Why the hell does
Chief Douchebag have his arm around Isabelle?
Oh no.
Oh no.
I search my
brain, trying to remember if Alex ever told me the name of Isabelle’s fiancé. Unlike
him, I have a good memory for names. But nothing is coming to me. I don’t think
he ever told me his name. All he said was that it was an asshole i-banker who’s
been cheating on Isabelle.
Oh my God,
Isabelle is engaged to Parker.
Whoa.
I stand a few
paces away from Coffee Bean, unable to move. I can’t believe this. The guy who
grabbed my boob and got me fired is the groom.
I want to turn around and walk in the other direction. I can’t face Parker. I
never want to see the guy again.
Did Alex know
Parker was the one who got me fired? Is that why he never mentioned the groom’s
name? Doug knew it, so it makes sense Alex would know too.
That jerk.
I should storm
off. That’s what I should do. I won’t leave Vegas, but I’ll let Alex sweat a
bit. Make him find his own way back to the damn room. He can call his lying
brother to come help him open the door. That will teach him a lesson.
Or…
Or better yet, I
can tell Isabelle I’m not really his girlfriend.
That will really teach him.
I finally make up
my mind and push my way through the door to Coffee Bean. I stride over to the
table where the three of them are chatting. When Alex sees me, a look of such
utter relief and happiness comes over his face, my resolve falters. But no, he lied to me. That is not cool. God knows
what other surprises are in store for me.
“Wednesday?”
Parker blinks a few times in surprise when he sees me. “What are you doing
here?”
My stomach turns.
I thought I’d never have to hear Chief Douchebag call me “Wednesday” ever
again. I’m going to make Alex pay for this one.
“This is Alex’s
girlfriend,” Isabelle says brightly.
“Actually,” I
begin. “I’m not—”
“Wednesday is Alex’s girlfriend?” Parker
interrupts me.
Alex has a deep
crease between his brows. “You two know each other?” He looks up at me, his
gray eyes narrowed. “How do you know each other?”
Wow, I almost
made a terrible mistake.
Alex had no idea
I knew Parker. It’s clear from looking at his face—nobody is that good an
actor. Now that I think about it, if he’d known, he probably would have used
that information to keep me from coming on the trip, considering he didn’t want
me here in the first place. Doug’s
the liar.
“Parker’s the one
who got me fired,” I say. I look directly into Isabelle’s pretty blue eyes. “He
grabbed my boob while I was waiting on his table.”
Alex’s mouth
falls open. “Parker’s the guy who got
your fired?”
It gives me no
small amount of pleasure that Alex and Isabelle are looking at him with equal
expressions of anger and disgust. Hey, maybe I’ll be the one to break up the wedding.
But no, Parker is
way too smooth to take the heat for this. He flashes that grin of his at his
fiancée. “Look, Izzy, everyone is making such a big deal out of this.” He
shakes his head. “All I did was brush against her chest, and suddenly, she’s
pouring a huge glass of beer over my head. Don’t you think that was an
overreaction?”
“You grabbed my
boob and squeezed!” I practically shout at him. A few people turn to look at
us. Well, good. I don’t mind a scene.
Parker turns his
attention in my direction, apparently deciding he might be able to placate me.
“Look, Wednesday, I’m sorry you interpreted it that way—”
Oh, no fucking
way. He’s doing the non-apology apology.
“No, Parker,”
Alex snaps at him before I can give him an earful. “Don’t tell her you’re sorry
she interpreted it that way. Tell her
you’re sorry you did it.”
There’s a hard
look in Alex’s eyes that I’ve never seen before. He might not have the ability
to take a swing at Parker anymore, but it’s clear there’s some unspoken threat
behind his words. I wouldn’t want to cross a guy looking at me like that. And
from the way Parker is shifting in his seat, it’s obvious he feels the same
way.
“Fine,” Parker
says. “I’m sorry I grabbed your tit, Wednesday.”
“No,” Alex says. The
intensity in his gray eyes makes my chest flutter. “Call her by her real name. Nellie.”
“Jesus Christ,”
Parker mutters. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry, Nellie.”
I look at Alex. His
face relaxes and he winks at me so fast, I almost miss it. I can’t even believe
it—he got Parker to apologize. Damn, this boy has skills. Maybe he can get me
my job back.
Isabelle looks up
at me with a pained smile. “I’m afraid Parker and I have to leave in a minute. We’re
meeting some friends.”
“What a shame,” I
say, without bothering to hide the sarcasm in my voice.
Now that he’s
managed to spit out an apology, Parker is back to being his old charming self
again. He’s smooth, that one. I can see how he managed to sucker a girl like
Isabelle into marrying him. She’s pretty, but I’m willing to bet there isn’t
much going on upstairs. “You two should join us,” he says. “We’re going to do
karaoke!” He says “karaoke” with what almost sounds like a Spanish accent.
“I don’t think
so,” I say.
“Aw, come on.”
His grin widens. “I apologized, right? I had no idea you were Warner’s
girlfriend. If I knew, I would never have joked around with you that way.” He
sees the hesitation on my face and adds, “Look, the first round of drinks are
on me.”
I glance over at
Alex. His eyes are pinned on Isabelle. “No, thanks.”
Parker looks like
he’s going to say something more, but then he shrugs. “Your loss. We’ll be
there at six, if you change your mind.”
“Got it,” I say. Now get out.
I don’t start
breathing normally again until Parker and Isabelle have gone out the door. I
watch them to make sure they’re gone, and it’s hard to miss the lecherous look
Parker gives me just before the door jingles closed. Ugh.
“I can’t believe
he’s the guy who got your fired,” Alex mutters. “Just when I can’t possibly
think any less of him…”
“Well, it’s not
like any of his buddies at the table stood up for me,” I say. “Including your
brother.”
Alex sucks in a
breath. “Jesus. That’s how you met Doug…”
I nod. “Yeah, and
it would have been nice if he had warned me…”
He’s quiet for a
moment. Eventually, a smile spreads across his lips. “I can’t believe you
dumped beer all over his head. That must have been awesome.”
“Until I got
fired, it sort of was.” I almost reach out and put my hand on his, but I draw
back at the last second when I remember he won’t be able to feel it. “Thanks
for making him apologize.”
“Somebody had to.”
Right. And that
somebody had to be Alex. Alex, the hero. The guy who saved his fiancée from a
mugger and is paying the price of spending his life strapped to a wheelchair. The
amazing part is I don’t even think he regrets it. He isn’t happy about his
situation, but he doesn’t regret saving Isabelle.
“So how did it go
with Isabelle?” I ask.
“I messed up.” He
sighs, leaning his head heavily against the headrest. “Parker walked in, and I
just blurted out that he was cheating, but I didn’t have time to say anything
else. I don’t think she believed me.”
“I think you’re
right.” Isabelle was clinging to Parker’s arm as they left the restaurant
together—not a sign of a woman about to call off her wedding. “Honestly, Alex,
you’re wasting your time. She’s never going to leave him.”
“I’m not giving up
yet,” he says firmly. “I need to get her alone again.”
I don’t try to
talk him out of it. As if I could. And anyway, the truth is, now that I’ve
realized Isabelle is marrying Parker, I want to stop this wedding too. Maybe
not as bad as he does, but I don’t think Parker deserves a happily ever after. Getting
dumped right before his wedding would be the perfect punishment for him.
“You know,” I
say, “if we go to that karaoke bar, I could sit next to Parker and try to get
him to hit on me. If Isabelle caught him trying to kiss me…”
“No.” Before I
can even complete my thought, Alex is glaring at me. “You’re not doing that. No
way.”
“But it would
convince Isabelle that—”
“I said no.” His jaw twitches. “I’m not letting
you prostitute yourself. Forget it. There’s got to be another way to convince
Isabelle.”
I don’t know if
it would be prostituting myself exactly, but I see his point. I’m not excited
about allowing Parker to put his slimy paws all over me again either, even if
it’s for the greater good.
“Fine.” I chew on
my lip. “But, you know, it might be fun to go to karaoke. I haven’t done that
in years.”
He frowns at me.
I’m almost certain he’s going to say hell no, but then a smile touches his
lips. “Are you saying you’re going to sing if we go?”
I return the
smile. “Curious?”
“I can’t say I’m
not…”
“Let's do it
then!” I clap my hands together and he laughs. “But can we go upstairs first? I’m
cold and I want to grab a sweater.”
“Sure,” Alex
says. “Let me just…” He leans forward in his chair and tries to grab at the sip
and puff control with his lips, but somehow he can’t reach it. Usually, it’s so
close to his face, he barely has to move his head to get at it. He strains at
the strap across his chest, trying desperately to reach it. After realizing his
problem, I reach over and move it a few inches closer.
“Thanks,” he says
gratefully. He makes a face. “Parker moved it.”
“Why am I not
surprised?” I roll my eyes. “Is it in a good place for you?”
“Uh…” He leans
forward and tentatively puts his lips on the tube. But he’s able to bring it closer to himself on
his own at this point. “Okay, this is good. Thanks.”
“No problem.”
He hesitates
before putting his lips back on the control. “Also, thanks for going along with
the girlfriend bit. I know what I said before, but… well, thanks.”
“Hey, that’s what
Doug is paying me to do.”
“But don’t feel
like you have to, you know…” He lowers his gray eyes. “I mean, you don’t have
to touch me or anything.”
“I don’t mind
touching you,” I say. That’s a big understatement. All day, I’ve been looking
for excuses to touch him.
He smiles wryly. “I
feel like such a loser,” he sighs. “Having to pretend I have a girlfriend…”
“You could have a
girlfriend if you wanted.”
He gives me a
look like I’m out of my mind. He has no clue how hot he still is. He hasn’t
even tried to put himself out there. It’s understandable and all, but until he
does, of course his self-esteem is going to be low.
I almost say all
that to him, but I don’t. It’s none of my business.
Alex
This karaoke bar
was a mistake.
It’s too crowded.
Too loud and too crowded. And everyone is drinking too goddamn much. Also,
there are too many young people around.
Wow, I sound like
an old man. I swear, I’m only thirty-five. I’m not ready for the retirement
home yet.
“Smile,” Nellie
whispers in my ear.
I force the
tiniest of smiles. She swore she wouldn’t leave my side without asking first. If
she did, I’d start panicking. Nellie’s presence is the only good thing about
being here. The other bad things include Parker sitting directly to my right,
Isabelle next to him, and then a bunch of other guys I used to know from
Coleman, all of whom stare at me bug-eyed, then tell me how fucking fantastic I
look.
“I can’t believe
you got me to agree to this,” I hiss at her. “I must have gone temporarily
insane.”
She giggles into
her hand. It’s cute how she does that. Nellie—my fake girlfriend. If only she
were my real girlfriend, instead of the paid help. I wish when she touched my
shoulder, it was because she liked me and not because she’s putting on a show.
“This round is on
me!” Parker calls out to the table, as a waitress comes by and distributes a
bunch of whiskey shots to each occupant. “Everyone take one!”
Christ, Parker is
in his late thirties and acting like a college frat boy. But because everyone
always does what Parker says, they all take a shot glass and down their drinks.
Including Isabelle, who shudders at the taste of it. But I can tell Parker is
pleased, because he rewards her with a big, sloppy kiss that makes me look
away. I never kissed Isabelle that way. He kisses her like he’s a dog who’s
happy she got home from work.
“Warner!” Parker
snaps. He’s pulled away from Isabelle and is now holding up one of the shot
glasses. “You didn’t take a shot.”
“No, thanks,” I
mutter. I’m on a lot of medications that don’t mix well with alcohol.
“You used to be
able to hold your liquor, Warner.” Parker’s lips curl into a smile. “You got
soft.”
Yes, I used to be
able to match Parker shot for shot. Friday night was drinking night when we
were at Coleman. I’d throw back three or four drinks and barely feel it. I
never worried about how much I used to drink, but in retrospect, it was a lot. It’s not like I ever got blackout
drunk or did something irresponsible while drinking, but another twenty years
of it would have probably done a number on my liver.
“Not everyone
needs to get shit-faced to have a good time,” Nellie speaks up. She didn’t do
her shot either.
“Well, la dee da,”
Parker laughs. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you skipping out on your shot too,
Miss Nellie.”
I glance over at
Nellie, who is glaring at Parker. “You can take a shot if you want,” I tell
her.
She eyes the
glass. “Only if you’ll do it with me.”
I hesitate. I
like the idea of taking a drink with Nellie. One shot is probably okay with my
meds. My tolerance may be shit, but I don’t think it will make me drunk. I
don’t want to get drunk—I’d need Nellie to steer me home if that happened.
“Okay, sure,” I
say. “Just one.”
Nellie grins. She
grabs her own shot glass and downs it in one quick gulp. Christ, she looks sexy
when she does that.
Then she picks up
my glass and holds it to my lips. This is the first time Nellie has given me
something to drink, since I was pulling off the long straw from my water bottle
while we were having brunch. She does her best, but half of it still ends up
splattered on my shirt. She grabs a napkin off the table and quickly dabs at my
chin and shirt. I don’t have to look up to know everyone at the table is
gawking at me.
But a few minutes
later, I feel a sensation of warmth go through my whole body, even the parts I
can’t ordinarily feel. And just like that, I’m not quite as bothered by any of
it anymore. Even the idea of being in this karaoke bar with Isabelle and
fucking Parker.
“Izzy.” Parker
nudges Isabelle. “You should get up there and sing.”
“No, thank you,”
she says. “I’d prefer not to make a fool of myself tonight.”
“Baby,” he says, “you
could never make a fool of yourself.”
For once, I agree
with him. Isabelle would be classy cleaning the toilet.
“Maybe I’ll sing
something,” Nellie speaks up.
“I’d love to see
that,” Parker says, giving her a look that makes me want to hit him.
Nellie ignores
him and smiles in my direction. “What do you think I should sing?”
I smile back at
her. “I don’t know. ‘Baby Got Back’?”
“Alex!” She swats
at my arm. She’s doing a good job acting like she really is my girlfriend. “What
are you saying?”
“Well, what do
you want to sing?” I ask her.
“I don’t know. Maybe
something by Green Day. They’ve always been my favorite punk band.”
I gasp. “Nellie,
I’m going to pretend you didn’t just call Green Day a punk band.”
“Um, they are a punk band,” she says. “They
popularized punk rock music.”
“Yeah, and that,
by definition makes them not punk.” I shake my head at her. “Punk music is loud
and aggressive and anti-establishment. The Sex Pistols are punk music. The
Clash is punk. The Ramones are punk. Green Day—mainstream.”
“No way.”
“Nellie, they
played a Green Day song at my fucking high school graduation,” I say. “You
don’t get more mainstream than that. At best, they’re pop-punk.”
She whips out her
phone from her purse and starts punching in keys. After a moment, she holds it
up in triumph. “Look here! Wikipedia says Green Day is an American punk rock
band.”
“Ooh, well, if
Wikipedia says it’s true…”
Nellie lets out a
loud huff. “Isabelle, was he always this opinionated?”
Isabelle, who has
been quietly observing our dispute, smiles shyly. “Yes,” she says. “He thinks
he knows everything.”
I do know everything. Okay, fine, I don’t
know everything. But I know a lot. More than most people. Moreover, I know how
to act confident. Confidence can make up for a lot.
I’m not that way
anymore. How can I be confident when I need help with every tiny little thing? But
I know Green Day isn’t a punk band.
“I’m not saying I
don’t like Green Day,” I say. “Just that they’re not punk rock.”
She pokes me in
the shoulder, in a place I can feel. “What’s your favorite Green Day song?”
I remember what
she said when we were waiting in line for brunch—Nellie loves playing the
Favorite Game with guys she likes. Or apparently, guys she’s pretending to
like. Although for a split-second, I wonder if it means something more.
Don’t be stupid, Warner. Look at the girl. Out
of your league by a mile.
“Probably ‘When I
Come Around,’” I say.
“I like that one.”
She nods. “Maybe not my favorite,
but…”
“So what’s your favorite of Green Day’s many
pop-punk songs?”
“Probably
‘Holiday,’” she says.
“I approve.”
“Good to know.”
Parker ordered a
bunch of appetizers that all arrive at our table at once. It looks like he got
just about everything on the menu: curly fries, normal fries, onion rings,
nachos, wings, stuffed mushrooms. I look at the array of food and my stomach
growls. I’ve eaten nothing since our brunch, and I’m hungry. Nellie looks at
the food and raises her eyebrows at me.
I quickly shake
my head. No. No way. I don’t care how hungry I am. It doesn’t matter if I
hadn’t eaten in a week. I’ll be damned if I let her feed me in front of Parker.
I’m sure as hell not letting her put a bib on me.
I’ll eat later,
when we’re upstairs. Maybe Doug can feed me.
Everyone else
digs in with gusto. The food smells really good. I’m so fucking frustrated. Everyone
else in the world can feed themselves like it’s nothing. It’s exhausting to rely on other people for this basic
task.
Nellie picks up a
French fry and she’s giving me a look. I can tell she’s itching to feed it to
me. I mouth the word “no.” She mouths back, “Come on.” I shake my head again. She
doesn’t get it. She really doesn’t.
And that’s when
she stands up. At first, I assume she’s going to the bathroom, so it shocks the
hell out of me when she sits down right on my lap.
I’ve seen photos
before of women sitting down in their wheeler boyfriends’ laps, but this is the
first time I’ve ever experienced it. And the truth is, it’s nice. Nellie
wriggles up against me, her small body pressed against mine, her right arm
around my shoulders, squeezed into the gap between my neck and the headrest. Her
face is inches away from mine, and I can smell the whiskey on her breath.
I love how close
she is to me. I love the way this feels.
I hate that she’s
being paid to be here. I hate that after this trip, I’ll probably never
experience this again. Well, unless I’ve got another two-thousand dollars
burning a hole in my pocket.
Nellie puts the
fry near my lips. I try to grab it, but she pulls it away, teasing me with it. She
giggles, then brings it closer again, this time allowing me to take a bite. I’ve
been fed hundreds of times now, but this is the first time it’s ever been sexy.
It’s the first time I’ve ever enjoyed it.
I’m not worried
everyone at the table feels sorry for me, that’s for sure.
There is one
thing I am worried about though. What
Nellie is doing is turning me on like crazy, but since the connection between
my brain and my dick is severed, I don’t have to worry about getting a boner
from her sexy game with the French fry. But I do have to worry that her curvy ass on my cock is stimulating it,
and therefore giving me a hard-on.
I probably get
two or three erections each week—not that I’m keeping track. I started getting
them again maybe two months after my injury. The first time was when I was
getting sponge-bathed by a sixty-year-old nurse. She was wiping down my junk,
and all of a sudden, my dick was standing at attention. I almost cried with
relief—I’d never gotten up the courage to ask, but I’d assumed I was impotent
since I couldn’t feel the damn thing. But my dick wasn’t dead. It was alive and
well, albeit a little confused.
Four years later,
my erections are a pain in the fucking ass. You think I want to get a woody
when my mom is bathing me? I don’t. And every time I get a new PCA, I have to
explain I don’t have any control over it and swear they’re not turning me on.
One of these days, one of them is going to slap a sexual harassment suit on me
for something I can’t control. If I were ever to have a girlfriend, I’m sure
I’d be grateful for them, but considering that’s not anywhere on the horizon, I
could do without them.
In any case, I
hope I don’t have a boner right now. I can only imagine Nellie leaping off my
lap, horrified.
She feeds me a
bunch of fries, some onion rings, and a stuffed mushroom. She doesn’t attempt a
buffalo wing, which is a wise choice on her part. I have a feeling my
wing-eating days are over. Her face is only inches away from mine the whole
time, her pink lips parting each time she smiles.
If she really were
my girlfriend, she’d probably lean in for a kiss right now—that would be a
natural thing to do. But that won’t happen today. Even though we’re paying
Nellie, she won’t kiss me during this trip. Kissing is off the table. She made
it painfully clear.
Christ, this is
frustrating.
“All right,”
Nellie says, after she’s stuffed me with food for the second time today. “I’m
going to go pay my dollar to do a song.”
I grin at her. “Yeah?
What song?”
“That,” she says,
“is a surprise.”
And then she hops
off my lap, scurrying in the direction of the stage. I watch her, because how
could I not watch her? She looks so sexy in those tiny jean shorts…
“Nice ass.”
I glance over at
Parker, who said the words just softly enough that Isabelle probably didn’t
hear. He’s grinning at me as he watches Nellie make her way to the stage.
“Shut up, Parker,”
I mutter.
“What? She does
have a nice ass.” He punches me in the shoulder. “I always thought so. I can’t
believe you landed her.”
I won't dignify him with an answer.
“You always had a
thing for waitresses, didn’t you, Warner?”
“She’s not a
waitress,” I say. “She’s a comedian. She just waits tables on the side.”
“Oh yeah?” Parker
looks impressed. “No kidding? How did you meet her, anyway?”
I decide to stick
with something close to the truth. “I went to one of her shows. After it was
over, I went to find her and tell her how great she was. We got to talking and…
well, she gave me her number.”
“Niiiiiice,”
Parker says. He holds up his fist to bump mine, which I’m sure is an automatic
gesture for him and not necessarily meant to make me feel like shit. I hate
Parker, but back in the day, I participated in his fist bumps like everyone
else. But not today. Not ever again. When he realizes I’m going to leave him
hanging, he laughs. Loudly. “Holy shit, look what I just did! I’m sorry ‘bout
that, man.”
“No problem,” I
mutter.
He takes an onion
ring from the table and stuffs it in his mouth, all the while looking at me. “So
the whole wheelchair deal,” he says, waving his hand over my body, “that’s all
permanent, huh?”
“Yeah,” I say.
His brow furrows.
“What about that stem cell shit? Isn’t that supposed to cure anything?”
I can’t even get
angry at Parker for suggesting something like that. It’s what I thought when I
first got hurt. Stem cells. Why can’t stem cells cure me? Why can’t anything cure me? It took a long time to
accept that my paralysis was never going to get better.
“I don’t know.” I
shrug. “Maybe someday.”
He grabs another
onion ring, but before putting it in his mouth, he hesitates. “You want one?”
“No,” I say
firmly. I would happily starve to death before I would ever let Parker Ashmont
feed me.
He pats my belly,
which makes me flinch. “Well, I don’t think it would kill you to cut back on
the onion rings.”
I glare at him. I’m
still quite a bit lighter than I was before my injury, but thanks to the lack
of muscles to hold in the contents of my stomach, I’ve got a gut I’ll never get
rid of. I miss the days when I had a washboard abdomen without even trying. I
hadn’t thought it was that noticeable when I was dressed, but Parker has
relieved me of that delusion. Thanks, Parker.
“Hey, you know
what you need?” he says, his face lighting up. “One of those helper monkeys. You
could train it to feed you.”
I don’t even know
what to say to that, other than I’m not getting a fucking helper monkey. I’m
not even sure those exist. Even if they do, I’m not getting one. I have enough
problems without some monkey going crazy on me and scratching out my eyes.
“That’s okay,” I
say, feeling suddenly tired. Dealing with Parker is exhausting—I don’t have the
energy I used to.
Also, where’s
Doug? I hope he’s not looking for me. We made some vague plans to meet up after
he was done for the day, but I haven’t heard from him. I look down at my phone,
but the screen is black. I wonder what the connection is like in this place…
“I made it
through the wilderness…”
The clear voice
cuts through the background music, and I turn my head best I can to look at the
stage. Holy shit, it’s Nellie. She’s onstage in her little tank top and tiny
shorts, belting out Madonna into the microphone. She has a decent voice.
But forget her
voice—she’s freaking sexy. My breath catches in my throat as I watch her.
And then she
takes the microphone off the stand and starts strutting around the stage. Her
amazing tits are bouncing with each step. I know without looking that every guy
in the audience is ogling her. Goddamn.
Mental boner. That’s
the word for it.
“Jesus Christ,” I
hear Parker breathe.
Looks like I’m
not the only one getting turned on.
“Look at her,” he
says, nudging my shoulder. “I bet she’s a wildcat in the sack, huh, Warner?”
I can’t answer
that question. I don’t have any experience with Nellie in the sack, so to
speak. And even if I did, I wouldn’t be talking to Parker about it.
Nellie slides
down to get on her knees on the stage as she sings, “Touched for the very first
time…” I think she’s trying to be funny by hamming it up—she doesn’t even
realize she’s driving every guy in the room nuts.
Then all of a
sudden, her eyes are entirely focused on me and me alone. It’s like every other
person in the room has vanished, and it’s just the two of us.
And she winks.
I hate Nellie
right now. I really do. Because up until tonight, I was okay with being single
for the rest of my life. I mean, I wasn’t thrilled.
But I was fine with it. Yeah, I was
disappointed when online dating was a bust, and I got pangs of jealousy when my
brother talked about his new girlfriend, but for the most part, I had accepted
it. So I wasn’t going to have a girlfriend any time in the near (or far)
future. I could deal. There were worse things.
But now…
Now that this
crazy sexy girl has sat in my lap, her body pressed against mine, her soft arms
wrapped around my neck… now that I’ve watched her on the stage being sexy as
all hell, and… shit, that wink she just gave me…
Why the hell did
she have to wink? I was okay until the wink.
And now I’m
wrecked. All I can do is stare at Nellie Levy, helplessly growing more and more
infatuated with her with each gyration of her hips. I’m not okay with being single. It’s not fucking okay that I don’t even
have a chance with a girl like
Nellie. A real relationship with Nellie Levy? Not even a remote possibility for
a guy like me. No way.
Christ, I want
her. I want her to be my real girlfriend, not just a fake who’s tolerating me
for a cool two-thou. I want her to sit on my lap for the whole night, not just
feed me a few fries and hop off. I want her deep purple fingernails to run
through my short hair and set every nerve on fire. I want to feel those soft
pink lips on my mouth and her tongue massaging mine. I want to spend a night
with her and figure out how my mouth is capable of pleasuring a woman.
I want her. I
want her so bad, my chest aches.
Quit dreaming, Warner. Look and pretend all
you want, but it’s never going to happen.
It’ll never
happen. Reality is a real kick in the teeth.
Nellie
I get a standing
ovation for my version of “Like a Virgin.”
Good deal. I
don’t get a standing ovation for my comedy bits. Maybe I missed my career as a
singer. Too bad I can’t hold a tune. Well, I’m not awful. But I’m no Alicia Keys. Hell, I’m no Ke$ha. I suspect it
was the wagging of my butt that got me the standing ovation.
Meh, I’ll take
it.
When I get back
to our table, Alex is staring at me like… well, like every other guy in the
room is staring at me. His jaw is hanging open, and he has a dazed look in his
eyes. Even Parker is giving me that look, which creeps the hell out of me. I
don’t need Parker slobbering over me. At least I’ve got Alex’s giant wheelchair
as a buffer between the two of us.
“You were great,”
Alex says quietly.
The way he’s
looking at me… his gray eyes are completely focused on me. Like we’re the only
two people in the room. It takes my breath away is the truth. I’ve never been
looked at quite that way.
What if I asked
him to go up to his room right now, just the two of us?
No, I can’t ask
him that. Up until a few hours ago, he was just barely tolerating me. Better to
keep things simple. The last thing I want is to antagonize the guy.
“You were
fan-fucking-tastic,” Parker chimes in. He gives me that thousand-watt smile I’m
sure wins over half the females on the planet, but not this female. “How come
someone as sexy as you is dating this loser?”
I run my hand up
Alex’s shoulder to the back of his neck. I notice all the hairs are standing at
attention. “I like this loser.”
“Well, you could
do better is all I’m saying.” Parker lets out a little chuckle. “How did you
guys meet anyway, Nellie?”
If there’s one
thing I can do, it’s think quick on my feet. Also, I got lots of experience
from lying to my parents back when I was in high school. The best strategy is
to keep the lies simple and never waver. Before he can see me hesitate, I say, “I
was waiting on Alex’s table at a restaurant. We started flirting and… at the
end of the meal, I slipped him my number.”
“So that’s how
you met.” Parker’s grin broadens. “Interesting.”
I look over at
Alex, who seems strangely pale all of a sudden. He coughs a few times, a weak
sound that makes me nervous he’s choking.
“So Alex tells me
you’re a standup comedian,” Parker says. I can tell he’s trying to get my
attention away from Alex, and I hate that it’s working. It’s clear Parker’s
good at manipulating people. “Is that true?”
“Uh huh,” I say.
“Are you funny?”
he asks. Seriously?
“Of course she’s
funny!” Alex manages, although he punctuates it with a cough.
“So, listen,”
Parker says. The smile drops off his face and his eyes are focused on me. “This
friend of mine, Blake Howard, is coming to the rehearsal dinner tomorrow. You
know who he is?”
I shake my head
no.
“Blake Howard,”
Parker says with authority, “owns half the fucking nightclubs in Las Vegas. And
plenty in New York too.”
“He… he does?”
“He sure does,
Wednesday.” My toes curl as he calls me by that nickname I hate, but I can’t be
rude. Not now. “I’d be happy to introduce you at the dinner tomorrow. You guys
are coming, right?”
I glance at Alex,
who has a pained expression on his face. But after a moment, he nods almost
imperceptibly. “Sure,” I say.
“Perfect!” Parker
claps his hands together. “I’m happy to help.”
I have to admit,
an hour ago, I was close to pouring another drink on Parker Ashmont’s head. But
right now, he’s doing a good job changing my opinion of him. This guy Blake
Howard could be the big break I’ve been waiting for. It would be ironic if
after costing me my job, Parker could keep me out of waitressing for good. Imagine
if I could do comedy full time…
That would be
amazing. A dream come true.
I dig around in
my purse to google this guy Blake Howard. Except when I pull out my phone, I
see there are five missed calls from Doug Warner.
Uh oh.
To be continued...
Update to Not Gay
Sorry for the delay! We are currently hiding from this virus in the most remote parts of Utah, with no reception or wifi whatsoever. Hope everyone is healthy and stays strong! Get a little distraction with Chapter 16. Thanks for reading!
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