Disclaimer: Strong sexual content, graphic sex scenes, disturbing content. 18+, please. This novel won’t be for you if you’re not comfortable with any of the above topics.
2020 All Rights Reserved (you know how it goes) Please don’t attempt to steal any part of my work.
♡ Dedicated Theme Song: Circles - Post Malone ♡
I lit another cigarette shakily before going back to fumbling with Sawyer’s new iPhone 11, opening the sketchy text message that just came through apprehensively. The shower had been going for a hot minute, so I knew it was only a matter of time before she caught me red handed unless I got a move on. I inhaled deeply and immediately regretted my choice as I practically coughed up half a lung.
Fuck, I couldn't make this a habit unless I wanted to throw away all of the progress I've made training out on the water.
SMS: Yeah, I should have a free weekend coming up here soon. Wanna catch a flick while I’m in town? I’ve been dying to see that new action film they’ve been advertising like crazy on TV. Lemme know baby XO.
My mouth went dry as I let out an incredulous snort. Baby!? Who the fuck is this bitch? My eyes scanned upward, where the contact’s name presented itself clearly.
The water cut off suddenly, and I stole a quick glance over my shoulder before furiously typing out a response. I was so pissed off, but this obviously wasn’t one sided; I needed to tread lightly if I wanted the truth. So, with a light shake of my head I sighed softly and sent the message before I could change my own mind.
SMS: You’re not the only ‘baby’ here, and apparently I’m not either. We’re both adults, I don’t see why we can’t talk without Sawyer around. Names’ Kate, I work at Naples beach. I’m a lifeguard there. Thursday-Monday afternoons. Respond or don’t, but she’ll just lie if you ask what this is about.
“Kay bae? Grab me a towel, would ya? My dumb ass forgot to snag one from the dryer on my way in here.” Sawyer’s husky voice shouted from her bathroom and I seethed internally.
That’s not the ONLY thing your ‘dumb ass’ forgot, Soy. Evidently, you forgot who the fuck I was when you started talking to someone else.
“Sure, give me a sec.” I responded numbly, taking one last drag off my cancer stick and ashing it in the little white plastic tray sitting on Sawyer’s patio table before heading back inside. Her phone buzzed, and I wasted no time checking the notification. Naturally, my girlfriend’s mystery lover responded and if the situation weren’t so epically fucked up, I might’ve burst into disbelieving laughter.
SMS: I fucking knew it; She told me ‘Kate’ was her cousin. I didn’t realize she was from some backwards town in Alabama. :/ I’ll show up on Saturday after I’ve had some time to settle in. Sounds like we’ve got a ton to talk about....
You’re telling me.
Deleting the last two texts out of Sawyer’s phone, I cursed softly under my breath and winced from the emotional blow I’d been left with. Every single fiber of my being longed to get the hell out of here, but something stopped me. I didn’t know what, but I was going to find out.
One way or another, even if it couldn’t be right now.
Chapter One | A Girl && Her Games:
◦◦ Sawyer ◦◦
He can’t be fucking serious, can he?
I’d just gotten finished with responding to my assigned asshole client’s demanding email when my more absent than anything else boss, Monty, shot me a message through the chat service my work uses; Stating Mr. ′lives to waste my time over the course of this last week’ is back on Social Media blasting a shit ton of nonsense about my ‘lack of consideration for the consumer.’ Attached is a screenshot of this bull, along with a request I couldn’t help but openly scoff at.
Koala Board (Montgomery Reid): Hey Sawyer, could you make an exception for this customer and honor the expired sale price? He’s spamming all of our brand posts without an end in sight. I appreciate it.
Yeah, I’ll bet you really fucking do, kiss ass. Our direct supervisor, Collin Moss, has a bad habit of changing his ‘vision’ for our team about as often as he changes those ridiculous ties he wears to our damn near hourly Zoom meetings, and this month’s goal is to please any and everyone who’s interested in our organic pet food. Why even have policies if we aren’t following them all of a sudden? Don’t get me wrong, it’s no skin off my back if someone pays $10.00 less for a bag of overpriced kibble and bits, but you’re not getting anywhere treating me like trash.
Monty must’ve forgotten how I operate; I’m not like the others on my team...hell, for starters I don’t even need this job. It’s something for me to do when I get bored; Nothing more, nothing less. Four months in, you’d think he knew better by now.
With an exaggerated eye roll, I began typing a response. My whole ass desk shook visibly as I slammed my fingertips against the keys. About halfway through, I felt a smirk play against my lips involuntarily. Deleting my original whiny rant, I sent a curt reply instead.
Koala Board (Sawyer Driscoll): Sure thing ;)
Not really, I was done, but Monty was none the wiser...yet.
Turning my attention to the lengthy email correspondence I had going with dick head supreme, I almost choked on my homemade green tea smoothie as I read his most recent message; Sent only seconds after I responded to Monty.
This is an unacceptable solution. Failure to honor the sale price I found on your website will result in me telling EVERYONE I know not to buy from your company!
The customer service I have received from you is absolutely appalling. Put me through to someone else if you aren’t going to do the RIGHT thing and take care of your customers.
- Jack Beverly
Oh, no worries about me doing the ‘right thing’, fuck face.
I quickly gulped down the rest of the rather chalky concoction, I’ve really gotta start blending my shakes better, and began humming cheerfully as I started working on the very last email I’d ever send for ‘Tasty Paws Incorporated’.
It’s with great, great pleasure that I inform you you’re STILL not getting the EXPIRED coupon you’ve been griping about for way too long. That sale ended two months ago, and was previously active for three.
It’s ten bucks, dude. Are you really THAT broke, or are you just being difficult because you can?
I’d suggest picking up a few pointers on how to treat the people having to deal with your ungrateful attitude a little better; Otherwise you might just get stuck crying about us to your 103 followers on Instagram again. :)
Get bent, - Not Paid Enough To Deal With You
Still humming merrily, I sent another half assed email to Monty and Collin containing my immediate resignation, and promptly signed out of and uninstalled every application I had running. Next up, I powered off my Apple laptop and made a bee line for the restroom. The perks of working from home really weren’t all that bad, and being required to use our own computers meant I didn’t have to do any unnecessary driving to drop company owned equipment off.
What a shame; I was really starting to get the hang of things too. Oh well, sorry not sorry. You win some, you lose some; Lifes one big game, and I'm always down to play.
I reached for my new bottle of Bedhead After-Party and applied a good amount of it into my naturally frosty white blonde hair, toying around with it until I achieved the usual tousled look I rocked on a normal basis. This new taper cut really suited me, but I had to keep it long on top or I’d lose my shit. Bad hair days were a regular occurrence for me in the past, way back when my parents were still alive, and I refused to let anyone go nuts with the mess on my head since. Looking in the mirror always made me grin, being the cocky little shit I am.
They say flaunt what you’ve got, and I’ve got it. At 5′9, my slim build and solid icy blue eyes have been known to break both women and men’s necks, even with the boyish aesthetic I give off. A slit near the end of my left blonde eyebrow and impish ‘come hither’ smile brought it all together. For the sake of trendy conversation, my ancestry stems from Lithuania and Ireland.
I looked fuck all like my late aristocratic mother Emilija, and next to nothing in comparison to Christopher—the wealthy stock broker who made the mistake of knocking my mom up almost twenty eight years ago, as if either of them had any business being parents to begin with. They weren’t terrible, but they weren’t what I’d exactly call great either...or suitable, or even halfway decent.
Like I always say, good thing they stopped at one kid.
Mommy and daddy dearest traveled constantly, and left me to my own devices throughout most of the school year growing up; Throwing money in my face to keep me and the degenerate company I kept occupied. Birthdays and holidays were this huge deal, because that’s when they tried their hand at pretending like I was the center of their universe; Or even just a small part of it.
On the eve of my twenty first birthday, I’d gotten the news of their plane crash from a distant uncle on my dad’s side whom I’ve never met. There weren’t any survivors. Of course, they were on their way home from a London getaway so they could put on their best ′We give a rat’s ass about our daughter′ act just in time for the event.
Only, they never made it.
I should’ve cried, I mean they were my parents, but I opted to get drunk by myself in the posh loft I was living in at the time and sulked instead. The thoughtful surprise party my close friend since Junior year in high school, Erin Triem, threw for me that night completely went to waste because I couldn’t bring myself to show up for it.
It’s one of the only regrets I have, but she doesn’t know it and never will. As far as the world is concerned, I say what I mean and do what I want. To hell with any and everyone else.
If I were the type to have a best friend, Erin would be mine for sure, but I’m not. Getting too close to anyone is something I just can’t do, because everyone takes off eventually; Or straight up dies on me. Not just my parents, literally everyone. A couple EX girlfriends with shitty intentions, backstabbing cocksuckers who only gave me the time of day for a little cash, you name it—I’ve seen it.
Trust nobody, ever. It doesn’t end well.
I learned that lesson young and I was glad for it. I’m my own best friend at the end of the day, and that was just fine by me. Admittingly, I’m sure I’d be a bit broken up if something happened between Erin and I, but I’d get through it—just like I have with everything else that’s hit me upside the head or tripped me while running in life.
I don’t need a God damn soul; Just me, myself, and the three million dollars I still had left from Emilija and Christopher’s will stashed away in my bank account. It’s the least they could’ve done in the grand scheme of things, after all...I am who I am because of them.
Unsurprisingly, my iPhone XS Max started blowing up from where it was still laying face down on my desk, but I paid it no mind as I finished grooming for a much needed day at the beach. How else was I going to spend this gorgeous sunny Thursday afternoon? Not stuck on the phone listening to my former supervisor lecture me about abruptly quitting, that’s what! I really needed a tan like nobody’s business, and was dead set on getting one.
Ten minutes later, whoever was trying to reach me eventually gave up, but it didn’t make a difference in my eyes either way; It’s not like I was in a hurry to check my plethora of notifications anyhow. I’d already gotten into the half full bottle of Tito’s tequila chilling in the freezer, and was in the process of downing my third shot when a series of knocks at the door made me glance toward my living room apathetically. I already knew who it was, because it’s always the same person who knocks the same way every time she comes over.
“Yo Sauce, you off work yet? I’ve had one hell of a day and I’m ready to kick it or something. You down?” Erin was rambling a mile a minute as she slipped inside carrying a large sunflower printed beach bag, shouting for me by my affectionate nickname. Her waist length midnight black hair was piled high in a cute top bun, with a few stray strands near the ears brushing against her tanned, bare shoulders. Scantily dressed as usual, I wasn’t surprised to see the tiny white bikini top barely covering Erin’s perky breasts that she picked out at the mall a few weeks ago. A flimsy black lace wrap hugged her thick, full hips like a glove.
Leggy, sultry and sweet—the perfect girl for anybody but me; It’s not that I didn’t find her attractive, I’ve got eyes. I just refused to fuck over what we had going as buddies. Besides, I usually wound up being her wing woman when we went out, and knew all the nitty gritty details of her sex life like the back of my hand.
I wasn’t complaining; I’m always up for some prime entertainment.
My longtime friend’s smoldering golden brown eyes flashed knowingly as they fell on the plain, miniature drinking vessel I had positioned against my lips.
That girl probably got me more so than anyone else. She has a real good tongue on her too, sharp enough to keep me and my bullshit in check. Keeping up with all the insanity that is my life is an accomplishment all on it’s own, and I gave her mad props for doing so.
Fourth shot down, I slammed the little glass on my space grey marble countertop and grinned widely at Erin. “What job?”
Mouth agape, she hurried over to where I started cutting up a whole lime with one of her infamous ‘not this again’ expressions. “...Oh God. What did you do now, Sawyer?”
My head was swimming, but I couldn’t give two shits long enough to care; I wanted to get fucked up and fast. Grabbing my salt shaker and a lime wedge, I squeezed the citrus fruit along my forearm and sprinkled a line of tiny white pebbles along the damp skin. I smirked at Erin mischievously before lazily dragging my tongue against the salty mixture and taking a hearty swig from my cold Tito’s bottle gleefully. After I came up for air, I wiped my upper lip and shrugged nonchalantly
“You know my motto; Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. Monty should’ve known better than to ask me to go out of my way for some pompous prick who couldn’t keep his mouth shut. I don’t need that riffraff.”
“Riffraff!? You’re something else for real, girl.” Erin scoffed playfully, dancing into the kitchen so she could yank the tequila out of my right hand firmly. Being only two inches shorter than me, it was difficult to avoid her teasing sneer. “Hey...slow your roll, I’m not carrying your tipsy ass to my car so you better get it together fast. Besides, the pier is lined with places to grab a good drink; Why get wasted now? Leggo.”
She had a point. Good ole’ trusty Erin; Remembering all the important details. I chose not to fight her and began padding toward my bedroom to change into appropriate attire for lounging around Naples beach.
What a time to be alive in glorious Florida, USA; I don’t know why I didn’t quit that crappy job sooner, my ass belonged on the beach soaking up rays and checking out some tail.
“Give me five minutes my dude and we’ll get going.”
Her low groan made me snicker under my breath; Erin knew the drill by now. With all the swim wear I owned, it’d be more like twenty before I was good and ready.
...But who’s counting?