A/N: Hi...
In all honesty this is a shorter chapter because I'm struggling. I'm not getting really any reviews for this story. So at this point it's not worth it to continue. I have two kids, two jobs, a husband, and a social life. I try really hard to make sure I update for you guys on Mondays. But if people aren't interested, what's the point?
I had this chapter written already so I'll post it.
I don't blame anyone but myself. This story probably isn't interesting and I totally get that. I want you to know that I don't take that out on you. It's not appealing to the TVD audience and that's ok. There are a lot of great stories out there right now. I'm really enjoying Redemption right now! I get excited about the updates. So if you aren't reading that one, you definitely should!
The following week I went back to work and it was a welcomed distraction. Although I was really getting into my writing and I didn't have as much time for it which bummed me out.
I could say that work was a distraction from my grieving my dead husband, but it was also a distraction from Damon. He was starting to take up residence in my thoughts and that was not good. My husband had only been gone just over three months… I couldn't be thinking about another man so quickly. And the fact that the other man was his brother made it worse. It made me feel sick to my stomach to even think for a second that my brother-in-law was on my mind. Not to mention he wasn't a good guy. He may be good at flirting and have a beautiful face and body, but that didn't make him dating material.
Damon had sent me an email of my headshots and I made sure to thank him, but other than that I kept my distance. I don't know if he felt the same thing I was feeling but he didn't reach out other than the one email. So, either he knew it was bad to be feeling this way, or he didn't think of me in that way at all. Either way it was best that I kept my distance.
"How's work?" Bonnie asked. We had just taken a class at the gym and were now cooling down on the treadmills with a brisk walk.
"It's fine," I breathed heavily. That class kicked my ass, I could hardly catch my breath.
"What about you?" I looked over at her. "I feel like we always talk about me. What's new with you?"
"Nothing," she made a bored face. "Same old, same old."
"Boring is good," I reminded her. "That means nothing bad is happening."
"I know," she smiled. "I'm happy," she assured me. "I just don't have anything exciting to share, or juicy to tell."
"Well…" I bumped the incline up a few notches on my treadmill. "I started writing again."
"No way," she looked at me shocked. "Something new?"
"No actually, I've been finishing that book up that I started in college," I flushed. I didn't like to share my stuff with people, but I knew I had to make the leap at some point. If I wanted to get my story out, I had to be vulnerable.
"Can I read it?" She mused.
"I should have you read it," I took a sip from my water bottle, before putting it back in the cup holder. "I need an honest opinion. Plus, I need another set of eyes to catch all the mistakes."
"Yes please," she clapped excitedly. "I love your writing. I mean… you let me read a few short stories in college, but never an entire book. I would love to!"
"Ok," I smiled. "But if you hate it, let me down easy. But be honest."
"I promise," she swore to me. "Plus, you know I'm a bad liar."
"I'm trusting you," I sighed. "It makes me feel very vulnerable having you read something so personal."
"Is it a true story?" She asked.
"No, but it definitely draws parallels to my life," I shrugged. "It's helped me get through a lot with Stefan."
"Well, I look forward to reading it," she gave me a closed mouth reassuring smile.
My weekends filled up fast with either writing or spending time with my friends and family. I was starting to forget that I was ever feeling anything for Damon. It must have just been a void I was trying to fill. Or maybe it had just been a long time since I had sex, and my hormones were just out of whack. Either way I was relieved my mind wasn't consumed by him lately.
That was until I ran into him at a bar. I was surprised to see him, especially considering there were multiple bars in the area. How crazy was it that we were at the same one at the exact same time?
"Long time no see," Damon walked up to me, sitting in the empty chair next to me.
"I started back up at work, about a month ago," I took a sip of my wine.
"Are you here by yourself?" He looked around me, noticing I was all alone.
"I just came for one drink," I flushed embarrassed. "I just gave my friend a book I had been writing, and I also sent a copy to an old college professor. I'm terrified, so I decided I needed a drink."
He clinked his glass of whiskey against my glass. "Cheers to that. I just submitted our photos to that magazine."
"How'd they turn out?" I smiled feeling curious.
"Really good," he half smiled. "Probably the best work I've ever done."
"Are you sure it wasn't my excellent modeling skills," I teased.
He gestured for the bar tender to pour him another whiskey, "That definitely helped."
"Are you nervous?" I rested my chin on my palm, twirling my glass with my other hand.
"Nah," he shook his head. "It's not like I've been submitting my work for years, hoping one day someone will see me for what I'm worth."
"Maybe you're not worth that much," I smiled before finishing my glass of wine.
"You're hilarious," he rolled his eyes.
The bartender poured Damon another whiskey. "Can I get you another?" The bartender asked me.
"Why not," I shrugged. Another drink couldn't hurt.
A few too many drinks in and we were both feeling damn good. "Ok, first time you got drunk," I pointed to him waiting for a story.
"Sophomore in high school," his heavy eye lids looked smoldering, but I'm pretty sure he was just wasted. "I was hanging out with a bunch of seniors and I got wasted off of three beers. It was embarrassing. Your turn."
"I was also a sophomore," I thought back to the memory. "It was all fun and games until I stumbled in the front door and my parents were waiting for me," I frowned at the memory. "Then I puked all over the entry way."
He chuckled taking another drink of his whiskey. "First time having sex. Go," he pointed at me.
"Oh man," I blushed at the memory. "I wa-s-s 16. My first serious boyfriend Matt. It was fineeee, but it was in the back of a tiny car and I got a leg cramp halfway through." My tongue felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. "What about you?" I continued sipping on my fourth glass of wine. Which was unnecessary since I was already hammered.
"I was 15, and I didn't last 15 seconds," he shook his head at the memory.
I started to laugh uncontrollably. My hand pressed against my chest as I imagined the horrid incident. "That sucks," I said between fits of laughter.
"I have come a long way," he jabbed his pointer finger in my shoulder. "I can last 15 minutes… forget that 15 hours now!"
"That's impressive," I giggled.
"You think that's impressive," he winked at me, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
"Damon!" I shoved his shoulder.
"Oh, don't be such a prude," he teased. "You're probably a freak in the bed."
"You're disgusting," I pushed him again and he grabbed my hands before I could push him. He was probably intending to let them go, but they held mine.
"It's part of my charm," his eyes did that flirty thing. I had no idea how he did that, and make it look so adorable.
"I have to pee," I said out loud. I hoped off the bar stool, or fell off… I wasn't quite sure.
He steadied me before I hoped off to the bathrooms. I'm sure I looked ridiculous, as I stumbled on the way.
I found myself smiling the entire time I was peeing and washing my hands. He shouldn't be the reason I'm smiling. This wasn't good. How could something so wrong, feel so right?
I waltzed out of the bathroom and was headed back for the bar. I stopped in my tracks, when he was missing from our spot. I frowned, thinking about the fact that he probably left.
"Want to play pool?" I felt a pair of hands grab my waist and spin me around.
"I've never played," I flushed as he pushed me towards the pool table.
"Perfect," he grabbed a pool stick and handed it to me. "That means I get to put my hands on you and show you how."
I couldn't tell if his flirting was real interest or just how he talked to every woman. I watched as he set up the balls in the triangle. He hit the white ball with his stick, sending the balls in all directions of the green felt table.
"Now," he came up behind me resting his pool stick against the table. "You want one hand here," he placed his hand over mine, putting it low on the pool stick. "And your other hand goes up here," he guided my hand. "Then you want to bend over the table," his body pressed against mine lowering me on to the table.
I bit my lip at his choice of words.
"Then you want to push it with this hand," he tapped my back hand. "And control it with this one," he squeezed my other hand.
"Shoot," he told me. He sat up slightly but stayed close behind me.
I went for it, and completely failed. I hit the side of the ball and it went in a totally different direction.
"I suck," I turned around, and gasped at how close he was to me.
His face was serious as he looked down at me. I looked up at him, swallowing hard. I didn't want to move, even though I should. I should walk out and leave right now. That would be the smart thing to do. That'd be the right thing to do.
"You feel it too," he cupped my face. "Don't you?"
"I shouldn't," I swallowed hard.
"Yeah," he agreed, but leaned in closer. "I was never very good at doing the right thing."
"I am," my eyes flickered down to his lips. "At least I was."
He didn't need any more confirmation than that. He closed the gap and pressed his lips to mine. He tasted like whiskey and mint. The stubble on his face was grazing against my skin which was tingly and on fire from this toe-curling kiss. All I could think about was his body pressed against mine. I wanted more. I ached for him in ways that I shouldn't.
His tongue slid over my lips, asking for permission. I opened gladly, wanting more of him. My fingers found his chest, gripping his shirt. He tugged on my lip with his teeth, and I shivered. I was already imagining the things he would do to me, and my body hummed with anticipation.
"My place?" he mumbled against my lips.
His words had my heart stop. This isn't right. I shouldn't be doing this. This is my husband's brother!
"This is bad," I pulled my lips away, but our hands remained suctioned to each other's bodies.
"You're probably right," he breathed.
He pulled away reluctantly. And I felt so cold from the loss. I tucked the hair behind my ear and looked down at the floor. "I'm going to head home," I barely whispered.
"Yeah…" he said dazed. "I should too."
"I'll… see you around." I felt so torn. I wanted to rip the clothes from his glorious body. But I also knew I would regret it in the morning. It was so hard to listen to my head, and not give into the cravings that my body so badly desired.