Heartless Hunk - Ann Omasta
I couldn’t have heard her correctly. I gawked at my beautiful best friend, Soraya, as my mind attempted to process what my ears were claiming she had said.
“A fling?” I hissed, hoping that no one else in the crowded restaurant would hear our ridiculous conversation.
Soraya blinked back at me before shrugging her shoulders. “Sure. Why not?”
“Because my husband just died a year ago. I’m not ready.” My eyelashes fluttered as I tried to hold back the blasted tears that now erupted on a regular basis. I’d never been much of a crier, so it was beyond frustrating to still not be able to control them after all of these months.
Soraya reached across the table to take my hand in hers. “Violet, it has been a year. I’m not saying you need to fall in love…”
The “pfft” sound that erupted from deep in my belly made Soraya pause. Her expression softened, but not to the point of pity. That was one of the many things I loved about my best friend. She was caring and thoughtful, but she wasn’t soft, and she didn’t put up with any shit from anyone.
Others avoided interacting with me as if devastation was somehow contagious, or they gave me sad, concerned looks that ended up making me feel worse. I couldn’t blame them. No one knew what to say after a tragedy. I didn’t even know what I wanted to hear. Nothing anyone could say or do would bring Dylan back.
Soraya was different. She was there for me in a way that no one else could seem to master. Her steady presence and no-nonsense attitude were the only things that had helped me hold it somewhat together these past several months.
After leaning in, she tossed back the long strands of shiny black hair that had fallen forward. Her mane was tipped in hot pink today, which made me wonder what that meant. She liked to dye her ends to match her mood.
I didn’t have to remain curious for long because she narrowed her eyes at me and said, “We need to find someone for you to have hot, dirty, meaningless sex with.”
My mouth fell open in shock that she would even say such a thing. I reared back and snapped my lips closed before glaring at her and saying, “I guess the pink tips mean that you’ve lost your mind. That’s not me, and you know it.”
“Banging a stranger wouldn’t define you, Violet. It would simply release some of your pent-up frustration and sadness. You could forget for a few minutes that you’re a widow and simply live in the moment and have fun.”
I turned my head and stared out at the bustling activity surrounding us in the restaurant. Fun seemed like a foreign concept to me now. I hadn’t had any of that in my life since before my husband’s death.
Dylan had been my high school sweetheart. Heck, he’d been my middle school sweetheart. Neither of us had ever been with anyone else. It had always been Dylan-and-Vi or Vi-and-Dylan. People didn’t say one of our names without tacking on the other.
He and I had always been confident that we would spend the rest of our lives together. It was meant to be. I just knew it. I had never even considered any other alternatives. But he’d left me alone, and now I had no idea how to carry on without him.
Even though I was aware that it wasn’t his fault, or even his choice, to die, I couldn’t seem to stop blaming him for leaving me. We were supposed to be a team. He was my forever, but now he was gone. And I was lost.
Turning back to face Soraya, I said, “I don’t know how to have fun anymore.”
“It will probably take some time,” she admitted, before adding, “But finding someone to give you a great fuck is the perfect way to start.”
She angled her head to the right, presumably to scan the crowd for prospects. Every instinct inside me was screaming that I should run far away, but I forced myself to stay planted in my seat.
“Hmm…” she said, tapping her pointer finger against her glossy, pink lips that perfectly matched the ends of her hair.
When she sucked in an excited breath, I squeezed my eyes tightly shut and wondered what kind of trouble was about ready to saunter in and completely shake up my boring life.
I shouldn’t be here––so close to her. But something about her was drawing me in. It was