#TripleX (18 page)

Never.

Never.

Never.

“What the Hell?” A voice screeched from somewhere to the left of me. My muscles froze, locked in the scandalous state.

I held back a scream, my heart nearly exploding in my chest. Spikes of hot adrenaline fired off across my chest. I couldn’t let anyone see me doing this. Flutters and tingles swept up the back of my neck and crawled across my scalp.

“What are you doing?” The voice demanded again, closer this time.

Slowly, I turned my head, and my stomach dropped. Suddenly, I was appalled at the position I was in.

Ashamed.

Humiliated.

Caught chocolate handed
.

Angelisa was on the other side of the snack machine as I sat in the middle of the crime scene. The half-eaten Snickers bar still wedged in my mouth. Delicious, melted milk chocolate coated my fingertips.

“You’re cheating! You’re sucking that Snickers like it’s a…” Ang was screaming.

Wait a fothermucking second!

I squinted my eyes up at her and zoned in on a curious orange substance that ringed around her mouth. Jumping to my feet, clutching the chocolate orgasm in one hand, I pointed with the other. “You!” I yelped. “You were just on the other side of this damn machine eating something too!”

Her cheeks turned a bright red. “No I wasn’t. Now hand over the rest of that chocolate bar!”

A loud gasp escaped from my lips. The inside of my mouth still tasted all chocolaty and delicious. “You just want my chocolate for yourself! What? Those cheesy puff things you ate weren’t enough?”

“Give me the chocolate!” she demanded, stomping her foot on the floor.

“Hell no! I haven’t had sugar in three weeks, Ang. You are playing with your life right now. I’m prepared to hurt you!” I hugged the candy bar to my chest, readying myself to fight to the death for the last few bites.

She grabbed at my candy bar, and I lunged out of the way. I wasn’t fast enough. Her shoulder clipped me, knocking me off balance, and we tumbled to the floor. My chocolate sailed through the air and ended up sliding under the bottom of the snack machine.

“Okay, fine. You can have the rest of it,” I smirked, thudding my head against the carpet and staring up at the ceiling. I missed his deliciousness already.

‘Til we meet again, my love.

“Then you can have the rest of my cheese doodles,” she chuckled next to me.

“Did you get to eat the whole bag?” I asked, raising my head to look at her.

“No,” she sighed, and pulled out the crumpled bag from her pocket. “As soon as I heard you moaning and saw you attacking that Snickers like it was your last meal, I smashed the bag into my pocket. Now it’s all smooshed.” She tilted her head back and opened her mouth to sprinkle some of the crumbs in. I smacked it out of her hand.

“I hate you,” she said.

“Yeah. Yeah. Yeah,” I sighed. “Let’s go burn off whatever we just ate.”

We’d been in downtown Chicago for two weeks, staying at the Hilton. Every morning, we would hit the gym and walk the treadmills for an hour while reading our eReaders. Our goal was to read at least one book from every author that was going to the Vegas signing. Then we’d be tourists and gallivant all over Chicago.

That day’s tourist plans found us on Lake Michigan renting a bicycle built for two.

“I’m naming this bike Tatum Channing, so we could both say we rode him on this trip!” I said as I twerked my bottom up against it. The little old lady behind the rental counter pumped her fist into the air.

“And at the same time,” Angelisa nodded, then grabbed for the front seat, “I want the front. You can be the ass!”

Then the witch took off pedaling out of the rental area. Who’d she think she was? Lance
Fothermucking
Armstrong?

“Bitch!” I laughed, running after her as she swerved and wobbled the bike madly down the pathway. I ran close enough to grab at the back handlebars, “Please God, don’t let my stupid, old, ass fall and break a hip!” Then, I leapt onto the bike like I was a flying trapeze artist and held on for dear life. The bike accelerated in speed and bounced and bumped over the dirt and stones, and then launched onto the Michigan Lake Front Bike Path. “Tatum is like a freakin’ jack hammer, isn’t he?” My voice vibrated.

“Don’t…” Angelisa squealed from ahead of me. “Don’t make me laugh, or we’re going to crash. Oh my God!”

“Let’s ride to the Navy Pier and go on the Ferris Wheel!” I screamed.

She yelled something back at me, but I couldn’t make out what it was over the incessantly metallic sound dinging out of the bicycle bell that she had on her handlebars. I was all about the shoving of the bell up her ass when she steered us over a bump and both of us screamed and abruptly stopped. The way that seat ended up, I could have had that bike arrested for sexual assault. “I almost had Tatum’s little tricycle babies! Don’t stop again without warning my girl parts!”

Laughing, we started pedaling again. We headed north, with Lake Michigan on our right, taking up the entire bike path with our crazy zig-zag steering. The wind blew our hair into mad crazy strands, and the sun warmed our skin. We made it to the Navy Pier unscathed, and for the first time along this trip, I realized, I wasn’t out of breath.

Holy Hell, I wasn’t out of breath.

Progress!

I so deserved a cupcake or something.

Eh, getting there.

Ang chained the bike up along the racks near the entrance of the Navy Pier Park, and we snapped a few pictures of us in front of the sign. Every night the both of us would talk to our kids on FaceTime and send them photos of all the things we did. I smiled for a moment watching the old-fashioned swing ride and listening to the thrill-filled screams of the people flying through the air. The smell of fresh buttery popcorn and warm salted pretzels drifted softly through the breeze.

“Corndogs,” Angelisa whispered, inhaling a long deep breath.

“Never had one,” I shrugged. They sounded gross.

She gawked at me wide-eyed. “Are you serious?”

“Dude. I’m from New York
City
. Where the hell would I find a corndog?”

“Uhhh… Coney Island?” she surmised.

“You Midwesterners are all the same with your ‘Coney Island this—Coney Island that.’ I wouldn’t step foot there. It’s like ten bucks per ride and sketchy as Hell,” I explained in disgust.

A bunch of screaming kids ran past us, their parents with anxious expressions and arms loaded with bags followed in tow.
God, I missed my kids
. This was the first time in EVER that I spent a long period without them. How everybody else in the world does sleep away camp every summer or boarding school is beyond me. It felt like my guts had been ripped out of my insides. Yet, this is what they wanted, and they were having so much fun. It was good for them, healthier for them to have an amazing summer experience with their friends rather than stay home with me to watch me cry over what their father did. I never wanted them to find out. I might hate Scott for what he did, but I never wanted my girls to know that their hero was nothing more than a bag of shit in a cheap suit. They’d have their own share of heartbreaks when they got older; they didn’t need to get all messed up in the head from mine so early on in life. The therapy bills would be too astronomical.

Thoughtlessly, I dragged Angelisa down the pier until we are standing in front of one of the biggest Ferris Wheels I’d ever seen.

“Nope. No way.” She walked away, arms across her chest and started pretending to be real interested in a potted plant that hung from one of the lampposts. Her teeth where clamped tight.

I marched after her and raised an eyebrow in a dare. Then I did what any normal middle-aged, mature woman would do at a time like this; I started clucking like at chicken at her.

“You cannot make me get on that deathtrap!”

“Come on. We rode all the way here. We have to do it!” I urged. Okay, I pleaded. I loved all rides. You could strap me onto a rickety, old, creaky rollercoaster, and I’d have my hands in the air ready to launch into orbit.

“Nothin’ to be scared of, sweetheart.” A low voice hummed from behind us.

Ang and I whipped our heads around to see who had freakily crept up behind us to listen to our conversation.

Leaning against the side of one of the outdoor eateries was an incredibly handsome guy. I couldn’t tell his age, so I just pretended that I was somewhere in the margin of NOT FORTY and offered him a smile. His lips curved up in the corners, and one hand attached to an extremely chiseled muscular arm ran through his seriously well-kept hair. I believe his eye color was take-me-against-a-wall-brown, but I wasn’t sure. I giggled at him nervously. Apparently, I was all about looking like an idiot in front of hot guys. Ang started giggling too, so Mr. Up-Against-A-Wall had the ability to morph the both of us into giddy little schoolgirls. Hell, I’d wear a Catholic school uniform if he asked me to. He could carry my books. Give me detention. Spank me with a ruler. God, could he spank me with a ruler.

“You girls lookin’ for some fun?” he asked, slowly raising one eyebrow. One corner of his mouth twitched up in a challenging way.

He called us
girls
. It made me giggle more. And I wanted to punch myself in the laughbox.
But I was, I was looking for this elusive fun he mentioned. I missed this proverbial fun he spoke of.

“What the Hell does that even mean?” Angelisa asked, eyeing him skeptically.

He pushed off the wall and sauntered closer, cocking his head. “You girls look like you need to relax a little.” He winked, “I might have a little something that you might like…”

He was either a pimp or a drug dealer. Honestly, either way, I wanted to hear his sales pitch, because nothing like this had ever happened to me before. I nodded, “Go on, we’re listening.”

“We are?” Ang asked, incredulously.

Like a magician he flicked a thick cylinder shaped cigarette-looking thing from out of thin air.
I wondered what else could do with those hands
. He placed the joint in his mouth and lit it, sucking in a long pull. The dude made smoking pot look sexy—which meant he could make me look sexy if he sucked on me like that. I needed all the help I could get at this point in time. The smell of rich thick marijuana filled my senses.

“I haven’t smoked weed since college,” Ang smiled next to me.

“
Weed
?” he chuckled. “It must have been a looong time ago, huh? They call it
cannabis
now. And we don’t
smoke
it. We
consume
it.”

“Did you just call me old?” Ang growled, pinching the rolled
cannabis
out of his mouth.

I stood there shocked. “Are you telling me they have come up with an entirely new vernacular for this generation of potheads? I’m so damn old,” I groaned in disbelief. I snapped the cannabi-whatever-is out of her mouth and examined it in my hand. “And what are you? Chicago’s own Ganja-preneur?”

He laughed a massive cloud of smoke into the alleyway as I took a small hit. I never liked smoking pot. It doesn’t just innocently relax you; it put you to sleep and gave you the munchies. I was freakin’ forty. I could nap at any moment now and having the munchies was a constant problem in my life. I just wanted to ride the stupid Ferris wheel. I handed the cannabis back to Ang, who sucked on it like a straw in a milkshake.
Maybe that would get her on some rides
.

I got instant cottonmouth. My muscles were loose and relaxed. “Gah,” I flicked my tongue around my mouth. “I need a mint.”

“Here, Mama. I got a mint for you,” the Ganja-preneur said, opening a small metal case in front of my face. It was full of little pink mints in the shape of
Hello Kitty
.

“Oh mints!” Ang cried and pinched it out of his hands and shoved it on her tongue. “Kind of tastes like licorice.”

Relaxed and trusting, I took a mint.
What could happen? They were Hello Kitties.

We were somewhere around 150 feet above the ground when the shit hit the fan. “I feel a little weird…” Ang mumbled through an expression of pure fear and bewilderment. My eyebrows rose as if a puppeteer were somewhere above me lifting them with strings. I shook my head, struggling to focus on what she was mumbling about. I felt something too. A slight tingling in my legs; butterflies trapped just under my skin, beating their feathery wings, trying to break free. Slowly, the sensation traveled up my legs and filled my entire body.

Euphoria hit me.

Pure and sublime.

Nothing in my life was bad; everything was clear and beautiful. My mind filled with awe.
Aaaaaand
, I wanted to have strange, naughty sex with everyone I saw.

Then there was a unicorn. A beautiful unicorn.

I leaned forward to get a better look, and the car of the Ferris wheel tilted up and swung with the sudden movement.

Yeah, that was so nice.

The rhythm made my blood flow and ripple like a pretty, little brook in the middle of Narnia. I felt my eyes widen, and my mouth drop open. The unicorn winked at me. Slowly, I moved my head behind Angelisa to block my view.
Did unicorns eat people?
Surely, this one was not viciously voracious. It was friendly and ready to frolic.