Deceitfully (Sinfully Series) (3 page)

I still had no idea what her name was. I wondered if I could get through the rest of the night without that bit of information.

“You’re just giving up? Plenty of guys have issues in bed. I don’t mind going another round for you.” She slinked up behind me, grabbing my semi-hard erection. “I wouldn’t have counted you for a quitter.”

“Not a quitter. Just a long day. Maybe another time. Thanks for coming by.” I pulled away from her prying hands once again and padded over to the shower without another word. Hoping she’d take the hint and leave, I spent a leisurely amount of time in the shower, caring for my own damn needs. The night was a waste and I was no closer to moving on. Thoughts of Payton coursed through my brain and I hated missing that feeling of knowing I was wanted. Payton hadn’t given herself fully to me, but when we were together, she made me feel like I was the only person who mattered to her.

Stepping out of the shower and onto the cool tile, I smiled in achievement. There wasn’t a noise in the place, and I was finally alone. I was losing my edge in finding the good ones. The last few I’d taken to bed were lackluster at best.

After brushing my teeth and changing the sheets, I laid in bed and wondered if it was worth me trying to change. I knew that I wasn’t happy with myself, and that alone should be enough to make me want to change. I was miserable and the girls I was with were only temporary fixes. I needed to stop focusing on the opposite sex for once and just live life. I didn’t need a girl in my life.

Tomorrow. It’d be a day for new beginnings.

IF I COULD GET through these next two weeks, it’d be a miracle. Sophia had been up my ass about making a statement at our high school reunion to show I’d grown from the wallflower I used to be. It was true, I had become more social and comfortable in my own skin, but I just didn’t care if all the people I grew up with knew.

Looking at the pale pink dress that hung from my closet door, I wondered what the use was for it all. Dressing up and talking to people who never spoke more than a few sentences to me throughout high school seemed like a waste of time. Why would they care if I wasn’t there?

I had thought about canceling, making up some excuse at the last minute, but in the end, a part of me did want to show them that I had succeeded and was happy with life. I had a great job, a few close friends, and a beautiful apartment to call my own. I’d done it all without the help of family and for that, I was proud of myself.

My twin sister, Sophia, was another story. I had grown up to become independent and happy with myself as a person. She seemed to digress from high school, becoming more needy and dependent on her boyfriend. We couldn’t be more different and for that, I wanted people to notice. She was always in the light while I aimed to be more subtle.

I walked over to the hall closet and got on my tippy toes to reach for the box on the top shelf. Pulling it down, I huffed at how heavy it was but quickly got it over to my couch. I swept the dust away with my hand and pulled out my senior yearbook. I hadn’t looked at it in years.

Flipping through the pages, I giggled at how horrid our style was back then. I had become friends and looked up some of my classmates online, but I had forgotten about so many others.

On the page after mine, Tate Lawson captured my attention as I took in his perfect smile and broad shoulders. He had dated Sophia briefly but had never given me more than a smile when we saw each other in the halls. He was my crush back then, but it stayed strictly that, a crush.

Sure, he dated my twin and you’d think that he possibly saw me as attractive too, but I didn’t talk to boys back then. I wasn’t ready to trust any men and that included Tate. It wasn’t his fault. A few guys had tried to be my friend, but I was always worried about their intentions.

Closing up the book, I smiled thinking about how I was going to break out of my comfort zone and let loose for a night. I deserved to be happy and hiding from the people who knew me back then wasn’t worth it. I didn’t owe them a thing, but this was the new me and maybe, just maybe, I’d work up the nerve to talk to the boy of my dreams.

Cheesy, right? I put the box back up in the closet and put on my jacket to head to work. It was my day off, but Naomi had called and said there was a cake emergency and she could use my help. She was my best friend, and I didn’t have any other plans, so I quickly agreed.

As I made my way inside, I saw a long line of customers and smiled at how far the bakery had come. While there was a staff of six, Naomi and I were the two who were determined to make it the next big thing. Spending late hours testing out new recipes and decorating styles, we had become quite the team. It was her bakery, but I was her lead decorator.

I was happy. I didn’t need a man to complete me and was content to throw myself into my work. It kept me busy and, to be honest, I loved feeling needed. I got that every damn day at the bakery. Plus, our customers included some regulars who were not so bad on the eyes. Naomi and I would occasionally compare our lists, as we took note.

“Hey, sweets! Thank you so much for coming in. The wedding cake is in the back, but the piping work Edith did looks like a seven-year-old did it. Good luck!” Naomi called out as she boxed up some treats for a customer.

I smiled at the challenge. When I was at the bakery, I didn’t have time to worry about the high school reunion. Who knew? Maybe it’d be a life-changing day.

I’D ALREADY KNOCKED OUT three training sessions and was waiting for the never-on-time Ms. Smith. She was in her mid-forties and recently divorced. If you asked me, her determination to look ten years younger was comical. She’d just gotten clearance from the doctor to start working out again after having a boob job to give her DDs. During her workout sessions, she would go on and on about how her other single friends were using dating apps on their phones and finding guys who wanted hot cougars to date.

More power to her, except she hadn’t gotten over her shyness toward men. Shit, it took her three sessions before she opened up to me and now she won’t shut up. Tardiness was also a habit yet to be broken.

“Tate! I’m here, I’m here! I was planning to be on time, too,” Mrs. Smith hollered, effectively letting the whole gym know she was in the building as she pranced over to the elliptical machine. I chuckled when I saw her new, tight yoga wear. I had to give her an ‘A’ for effort in the looks department. She was cougar material, for sure. Now, if she learned to flirt back when a guy bought her a drink, she would be golden.

“Ready to go, Danielle? We have about fifty minutes left of a good, hard workout. Let’s just do ten minutes of cardio to get you warmed up, and then we’ll hit the weights.” I waited for her to get onto her machine before I turned up my settings and had her do the same. I enjoyed doing the cardio with my clients to keep them motivated and at the right pace. “Let’s increase the incline one more level today,” I told her as I reset the settings on my machine.

“Why not two levels?” She winked and pushed the ‘increase’ button. I wasn’t going to deny her.

“You’re going to feel it later, but all right.” We pushed through the next ten minutes in relative silence, with the occasional pep talk when she started to slow. “You mentioned focusing on your arms today? Any particular reason for the request?” I walked alongside her down the stairs.

“I had someone tell me that my left hand’s grip wasn’t as strong as the right. I figured focusing on my arms could help with my problem.” She had a devious smile that told me there was more to this story than she was letting on.

“Danielle?”

“Mmmhmm?” Taking a sip of her drink, she played it off like she hadn’t just confessed what she just did.

“That’s perfectly normal for your dominant hand to have a firmer grip. Now, if your- uh, other hand is getting tired after just a small amount of exertion, we can work on that.” I tried staying as professional as possible, but her giggle told me that she knew she was trying to rattle me.

“Do you really think I’d care if some twenty-something told me that I needed to work on that? Fuck him. He can go play with himself for all I care. I really wanted to work on the arm flab. That’s all.” She walked ahead of me, showing her confidence in her gait.

After a successful session with Mrs. Smith and one other client, I went to my office and took a break for the first time all day. My next appointment had canceled, and Cylas, my buddy from high school, was supposed to be here any minute to play a round of basketball with me and a few other guys.

There was a handful of us who all played football together in high school and went on to play ball around the state for college. Somehow, we all ended up back within fifteen miles of each other and still got a good game of basketball going every now and then.

Cylas had been my most reliable and levelheaded friend. He was pretty much the exact opposite of the crazy, risk-taking Tyler. Hanging out with Cylas was probably in my better interest as he knew what he wanted in life and was a go-getter.

Tyler was the carefree, take life one day at a time guy, which was why I’d been hanging around with him more over the past year. He didn’t judge me on my ways with women and encouraged it.

“Isn’t that Mrs. Smith from down at the bank? She’s looking more and more like her daughter, bro.” Cylas shook his head in disapproval, and I couldn’t help but compare the two. Danielle’s daughter was a freshman in college, and I had to admit that he was right.

“Yeah, well, she’s hitting it from all angles. She’s dieting like crazy, already hit up the plastic surgeon, and is rounding it all off by working with me three times a week. At least she’s doing it right. How was work?” I asked as I updated my clients’ charts on our computer system. Being able to keep track of their progress was beneficial for both them and myself. I needed to know that what we were working on was effective, and if not, what needed to be changed.

“The usual. We’ve got the gymnastics coach there this week also so the kids got to do mini stations again today. A few kids in the younger grades could really be something one day. I’ll tell you, if you asked me ten years ago what I would be doing as a job, I’d never have told you a gym teacher. Now, I couldn’t imagine doing anything else.”

Cylas really did have a passion for kids and seeing them succeed in life. His school wasn’t in the best part of town, but I think he enjoyed it even more because of the difference he made in some of the students’ lives.

“You were made for the job. The boys want to be you and the little girls want to marry you. You’re their role model, Cylas. Plus, have you seen some of those moms? Yes, please.” He wouldn’t fess up, but I had my suspicions that he’d taken home a few of those moms.

“Thanks. And I’m ignoring your comment about the moms. They are not for touching.” Cylas chuckled, probably remembering one of the closeted, sex addicted single moms.

“So, you prefer the teachers? I’m down with that, too. Kimberly is teaching first grade there now, right? She’s doable. She’s definitely changed for the better since high school.” I turned to face him after logging off for the day and wondered what secrets Cylas had that he didn’t share with anyone. His façade of being the All-American, good guy had to be hiding something. He was damn good at keeping shit hush hush, though.

“Aren’t the other guys already warming up?”

“Avoiding the topic…wise move. Yeah, let’s go. I’m done in here for the night.” We walked out and headed toward the indoor basketball court at the other side of the gym. It was busier now that people were off work, and I noticed many regulars who were here every day, Monday through Thursday, after work. They were dedicated and it showed. Normally, I’d be right there with them, but basketball with the guys was priority tonight.

Our ten-year high school reunion was coming up, and I was still debating on if it was worth attending. Rachel, one of my good friends from high school, was coordinating everything and constantly asked me about it. She was one of the few women who I’d kept things strictly platonic with, and she was like my sister. As a working mother of three children, we didn’t get to see each other as much as she’d like, but we’d kept in touch throughout the years.