Changing Course (Wrecked and Ruined #1)(17)

I just need to tell Jesse that I'm married, let her down easy, and try to pretend this whole thing never happened. She's a sweet girl, but I am in no position to be dating right now. Besides, Jesse seems a bit young and naive. She is after all twenty-six years old and still working in a coffee house. Don't get me wrong, I'm not one to judge anyone based on their career choices, as long as it's what you want to be doing and not just what you have gotten stuck doing. Jesse doesn't strike me as the type of girl to serve muffins for the rest of her life though, so her working at Nell's is confusing.

Above and beyond all of that...I'm still married. That alone is like the blinking neon signs of reasons why I shouldn't be on a date with another woman. I've been broken for a long time now. I don't have anything to offer someone else. Shit, why did I show today? It would have been easier if I just stayed home and apologized for standing her up after the fact.

I wait in front of the stadium, scrolling through Facebook on my cell phone. I swear if one more of my high school friends posts pictures of their lunch, kids, or dogs, I'm going on a spree reporting everyone as spam. I can't even turn on my phone anymore without being reminded about exactly what my life is lacking. Good food, kids, and a dog!

Just as I end my internal rant, I hear a loud whistle behind me. Turning to look and I see a smoking hot brunette headed my way. My eyes start on her high heel knee boots, sliding up her sculpted legs, and over her perfectly curved waist. I freeze as I watch her full breasts bounce with each step. My dick instantly gets hard and I quickly shove my hands in my pockets trying to rearrange myself before anyone notices. Just what I don't need is for Jesse to show up right now, forcing me to explain why I'm playing pocket pool while staring at some woman walking down the street. That would probably go over about as well as when I cussed at her the other day.

"Hey." I tear my eyes away from the woman’s breasts just in time to see her stop in front of me. I glance up and into a pair of familiar golden brown eyes.

"Jesse? Jesus, what are you wearing?"

"A dress," she answers shortly.

"Are you sure, because it looks like you left half of it at home," I respond as my eyes rake over the short black sweater dress with a plunging V in the front revealing most of her tits.

"Don't you dare start with me about this outfit. It took me six hours to convince Kara that I didn't need to wear a red corset and black leather mini skirt here today. So this," she motions her hands over her luscious body, "was our compromise." Did she just say red corset and black leather mini skirt? Oh yeah, my dick heard her loud and clear.

I try to clear my throat and shake my head to stop myself from staring at her chest again, but damn, she is showing a ton of skin. Until today, I didn't even know Jess had cleavage. I bet I could hook the tip of my finger into her top and stroke her nipple without anyone even noticing. I groan at the thought as she stands looking at me questionably.

"Are you okay? You're making weird noises. Do you want me to go?" And just like that my shit life comes crashing back down. I remember that I won't be stroking anyone’s nipples tonight, unless my left hand happens to wander to my own during a much needed solo cold shower.

"Yeah I'm fine, sorry. No, I don't want you to go."

"Well, can we go inside then? It's getting cold, and Kara said it would be an insult to cover this dress up with a coat so I had to freeze my butt off the whole way here."

"Lead the way." I give her my best uncomfortable smile and motion for her to walk ahead.

I follow her into the stadium as my gaze once again travels down her body. This time it meets a perfectly round ass that causes my cock to stir back to life. Shit! Caleb's right, I have got to get laid.

We walk into the stadium and up to the VIP box. Normally, I would have been stoked to have such amazing seats, but I know the conversation we are about to have will probably leave me watching the second half from the sports bar around the corner. As we settling into our seats, our personal waitress stops by to take our drink order.

"I’ll take whatever lager you have on draft, please."

"Just make that two," she says as I turn my head in shock.

"Beer huh, and not even a light beer?"

"Are you saying I need a light beer? Brett, are you calling me fat?"

"No, not at all! It's just that most women drink light beer. I just assumed..." As I trail off, she lets out the most adorable giggle while smiling at my discomfort.

"I was just kidding, guys always get so squirmy about a woman's weight. But to answer your question, yeah, I'm a beer girl. I'm sad to report that I'm a light weight. I blame it on my size. Kara says I haven't ever built up a proper tolerance. She once created a daily drinking schedule for me, requiring me to drink an increasing number of shots every night. I did it for the first day and puked on her bed. After that she deemed me a lost cause, and the schedule was gone the next morning." We both laugh, falling into our normal casual comfort with each other.

The waitress returns with our drinks a few minutes later, and when I try to pay her, she tells us that all the drinks are free. Damn, I'm really going to hate leaving here after we have this conversation.

"I'm sorry," I start wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible.

"For what?"