Just My Type(48)

No one dates me without me knowing it and gets away with it. Orgasms be damned. Scene ends with vagina curled up in a disheveled heap, wailing to the heavens as her misery pours out of her in a flood of tears Oh my God, stop it! We are mad at him. Pissed. Furious!

“That motherfucker,” I mutter again, with a little more feeling, shutting off the bathroom light as I walk out into the hall, lifting my chin and preparing myself for battle.



Lincoln played a game on my phone the whole ride to Baker’s, which gave me too much quiet time to think. About how he made me feel like me again, about how comfortable I am around him, about how sweet he is even when he’s being annoying as hell, about how much he makes me laugh, how he’s made me not miss home quite so much, and how he was nervous to meet my son.

That last one almost did me in. I almost got out of the Uber when it pulled up to the curb in front of the gym, grabbed Lincoln’s hand, and ran as fast as I could to Baker.

Fortunately, having to walk up so many fucking stairs on the outside of the building to get to Baker’s loft above the gym gave my anger a much needed resuscitation. With each stomp of my cowboy-booted feet against the wrought-iron stairs leading us up and up, forcing me to do cardio against my will, I’m rightfully pissed by the time we get to the top, and I pound my hand against the door.

The thundering in my skull has lessened to a dull pulse that’s more annoying than painful, thanks to the three over-the-counter pain relievers I took before the Uber came. And thank God for that, especially when the door flies open and Blake lets out an ear-piercing scream of excitement when she sees me and Lincoln.

Introductions are made between the two of them, hugs are given, and before I can even blink, Blake has handed off Lincoln to Rachel, who takes him over to meet the other kids, and I’m being dragged into the loft.

Baker’s loft. His home. The place where he eats and sleeps… and bathes. Naked… with bubbles. Grrr, no, I’m mad! Stop being horny!

When Baker told me he lived in the loft above the gym, I pictured this tiny, mess of a man cave with nothing but an unmade bed in the middle of the room, and no other piece of furniture. Which is why when he invited me over here on a Wednesday night, I naturally assumed he was bringing me to his only-a-bed-in-the-middle-of-the-room sex lair.

Stop thinking that sounds like a fabulous idea. We’re mad!

Blake introduces me to a few people standing around the kitchen island, sipping on drinks and eating snacks, including Rachel’s parent’s and one of their close friends. We move on into the living room area, where I’m introduced to a few more friends, who are kicked back on Baker’s two leather couches facing a flat screen television hanging on the wall that’s playing the Cub’s game. Kids run around yelling and laughing, including my son, who zips by me without so much as a glance in my direction. The television is on, and conversations are happening. You would think this would all be just noisy chaos, but it’s not. Because Baker’s loft is huge. It’s the same three-thousand-square feet as the gym below, and it’s one giant, wide-open, industrial space with brick walls, hardwood floors, and floor-to-ceiling windows with a view of the city.

And of course I can’t help but smile when I look around the place and see everything he’s done to get it ready for a little girl’s birthday party. The pink princess theme is loud and proud, and has thrown up all over this loft. Tons of pink streamers hang all over the walls along with posters of princesses, pink helium balloons tied to every surface, pink glittery Happy Birthday banners hung in various locations, and a table filled with nothing but pink desserts. He even has strands of pink lights hanging from the exposed beams in the ceiling all up and down the loft.

Oh my God, he’s so sweet!

He’s been secretly dating you!

“Ahhh, there’s Baker,” Blake states, nodding to a door on the far side of the loft.

My “That mother fucker” dies on my lips as soon as I see that Blake is nodding to Baker, who is currently coming out from the door and back out into the main part of the loft. Carrying an adorable little girl with dirty blonde hair pulled up into two high ponytails, who’s wearing a frilly, pink, princess dress, hugging a stuffed unicorn under her arm, and who is giggling uncontrollably at something her uncle is saying to her as he carries her in the room.

No! I will not succumb! Resist the force!

“That’s my daughter, Skylar,” Blake says proudly. “She left Mr. Unicorn in Uncle Baker’s room, and he took her go get it before there was a meltdown.”

Nope. Don’t care that seeing him holding his niece made him look even more ridiculously hot and amazing. I also don’t care that I now know where Baker’s bedroom is, and also now know where that unmade sex bed is located, with the rumpled sheets just waiting for more rumpling. Don’t care at all.

Skylar takes off running in a blur of pink toward the dessert table as soon as Baker makes the mistake of putting her down.

“Shit. I better go get her before she inhales half the table,” Blake mutters as she takes off jogging toward the dessert table, where Skylar is currently reaching for a pink-frosted cupcake. Leaving me standing here alone, where I’m too far from other people to start talking to someone so I can stop staring at Baker.

I’ve been trying to pretend like his eyes haven’t been locked on mine since he started lowering Skylar to the ground, but I can’t. I can feel the heat from his stare even with him being ten feet away from me. He’s staring at me like he’s picturing me naked, and I immediately regret my outfit choice. Old, scuffed, brown, cowboy boots, with a red, short, baby doll sundress that leaves my shoulders completely bare. It’s something I would have worn to a birthday party back home, and it felt like a suit of armor when I put it on, giving me the power to kick Baker’s ass.