Read Not My Type Online

Authors: Chrystal Vaughan

Tags: #romance, #bdsm, #bdsm bbw

Not My Type (14 page)

BOOK: Not My Type
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"Are you Joe?" He nodded. "Hi! I'm
Amber. Nice to meet you." She stuck her hand out for him to shake.
He did, curtly, and let her hand fall from his almost
rudely.

"What can I do for you?"

Her brown eyes took in his body,
drinking him in like a desert plant sucks down water. "Well," she
purred, "it looks like you can probably do a lot for me. My friend
Beth comes to this gym, and told me you were an excellent physical
trainer." She smiled seductively up at him.

"You don't need a trainer," he said
curtly. He was used to women flirting with him, but this broad was
irritating. He had shit to do, including rescuing his relationship
and getting his future back on track.

She stepped closer, invading his
personal space. She lifted a finely manicured hand and ran her
fingers over his bicep. She leaned in closer, her lips close to
his. "Maybe you could just spot me, then," she breathed.

It was at that exact moment, with this
strange woman's fingers on his flesh and her breath upon his face,
that Joe felt the prickling of dread at the back of his neck. He
looked up in time to see Elsa at the door of the gym, Jordan with
his hand out to her, talking fast, no doubt trying to explain what
she was seeing. Claire was right behind Elsa, and she shot Joe an
incredulous glance. The woman, Amber, finally got the hint that not
all was well and turned to see what all the commotion was about,
and why Joe wasn't paying attention to what she considered were
some fine attributes.

"Is that a client of yours?" she
asked. "She looks like she could use a trainer." Her voice was
condescending.

Joe shoved her out of the way and
headed toward the door where Elsa was still frozen with a stricken
look on her face. At his approach, she lost her paralysis and
whirled around, hitting the gym doors with force and heading for
Claire's car. Claire hurried after her, jumping in the driver's
seat. At Elsa's urging, Claire reversed out of the parking lot
before Joe reached the gym doors, speeding off toward
town.

"SHIT!" Joe yelled in frustration. He
turned on Jordan, who had followed him out the doors. "Where the
fuck are they going?"

"Fuck man, I'm sorry, I tried to tell
her that Amber chick was nobody, but she saw her with her hands all
over you and well, it didn't look good. I'm sure Claire's just
taking her somewhere to cool off, man, don't worry."

"Watch the place, I'm going to get
her."

"Sure Joe, no problem. Go easy
huh?"

Joe grunted. He heard what his friend
was saying. Keeping his calm was important right now. He grabbed
his keys from his office, completely ignoring the daggers Amber was
throwing at him with her eyes, not even registering her presence.
He jumped in the Rover and sped for home.

Jordan texted his
girl:
The big guy is coming. Where you
at?

Claire replied:
Our house. She's done. What should I
do?

Jordan said he didn't know. He didn't
want for he and Claire to be in the middle but it looked like it
was too late for that. He just hoped Joe didn't say or do something
he couldn't take back.

For his part, Joe was trying hard to
keep his cool. Inside, he was seething with rage. Of all the
fucking times for some bitch to come on to him, it had to be when
Elsa was there! He wanted to throw himself at Elsa's feet, to lay
himself bare to her, anything as long as their lives could go back
to normal, to be happy once again. He feard very much that was
never again going to be a possibility.

His fears were confirmed when he got
to their house and found it empty. Spike was gone too. In their
bedroom, signs of hurried packing were revealed by the open
drawers. Their closet was wide open, door agape like an accusation;
she had noticed, then. That morning, before he'd left, he had taken
all of their toys out of the closet and stashed them in the Rover,
planning to get rid of them forever. He wanted Elsa, more than
anything, but he could never again raise a hand, or a whip, in
punishment. He couldn't be trusted.

He could only imagine her thoughts
when she found that he had removed all the toys. Was she relieved?
Is that why she'd come to the gym, a place she hated? Or had she
come to tell him off, only to find that bitch touching him, and
assumed he already moved on? He had no way of knowing what she
thought. And now she was gone. Joe dragged himself from the bedroom
and plodded like a man in a dream toward the kitchen as though
imagining her in her element might conjure her like a ghost.
Instead, he found an envelope on the pristine counter, "Joe"
written in her elegant script across the front.

He tore it open, feeling something
hard inside. He groaned in agony, his fingers shaking as he
withdrew her engagement ring, still on its chain. There was nothing
else in the envelope. Just the ring and the silence of broken
dreams clutched tightly in his fist.

Chapter Fifteen: Elsa
Moves On

The next few weeks were a blur to
Elsa. Joe tried for days to get in touch with her, sending messages
through Jordan and Claire, but Elsa didn't answer. She knew what
she saw. He had decided to be done with her, even removing their
toys from their closet and not bothering to come home. Then, she'd
seen him with that gym rat tramp. In spite of Jordan reassuring her
that Joe wasn't interested in that girl, Elsa hadn't seem him
trying to get away. She often wondered if he'd slept with her that
night he didn't come home. While she waited for him. It seemed he
did want a skinny bitch, after all. Just not her; no matter how
much weight she lost, she knew deep down that she had never been
good enough for Joe. She wasted a lot of time wondering why he'd
bothered to stay with her for three years, how he'd forced himself
to have sex with her when she was so fat if skinny was what he
really wanted. It was easy for her to convince herself that all the
passion they had between them was one-sided. The bad things were
always easier to believe, to remember, it seemed.

As the days went by and Joe
stopped trying to get her attention, she tried hard to tamp down
her pain, to bury it deep inside. The weight melted off of her
magically, since she often had no appetite. Finally, she reached a
point where Claire had to intervene. She had been staying with them
since the incident at the gym, but she knew she would soon have to
make some tough decisions.
At least he
hadn't insisted she give Spike back
, she
thought. She had that small consolation.

"Elsa, hon, you look terrible. I mean
that in the nicest way."

"Gee, thanks Claire. I love you
too."

"How much weight have you lost now?
Have you checked? It's not good for you to lose weight so quickly.
It's unhealthy. You have to eat something!"

"I'm just not hungry. I promise I will
eat later, okay?" She gave her friend a tremulous smile. Her cell
phone rang before Claire could open her mouth; saved by the
bell.

She excused herself to take the call.
It was Martha. "Elsa, sweetie, how you holding up?" Elsa had called
Martha a few days after leaving Joe to tell her what had happened.
Now, the woman was calling her every few days to check on her. It
was maddeningly sweet.

"I'm doing fine Martha.
Honest."

"You don't sound fine, doll, but
listen, Martha has some great news!"

In spite of her general depression,
Elsa had to smile. Whenever Martha referred to herself in the third
person, usually her news was pretty good. "What's up?"

"You're never going to believe this
but...'Good Morning America' is doing a feature about eating
gourmet food with diabetes. They asked the publisher for any
cookbook authors who might want to be on the show, and guess who's
name came up?"

"Wow Martha! That's fantastic!
But...my cookbook isn't even out yet." She had put off any photo
opportunities for the book. It just hadn't seemed important
anymore, but she felt a renewed interest at Martha's
news.

"That's the beauty of it doll! We can
announce the publication date on the show. Then all we have to do
is get those damn pictures finished, which you can do when you're
here. Can you stay for a few weeks to wrap up the cookbook? The
sooner we get it done, the sooner you'll be a big food
star!"

Elsa thought about it. This
was a good opportunity. And she could take time off from the
restaraunt; she knew Allen and MaryBeth would understand. They had
been very comforting and solicitous of her since the breakup with
Joe.
Getting out of town would be
awesome,
she thought. Though she hated
California, she could spend a few weeks there getting herself
together and then decide what to do. She could move back to Eugene
with her parents and grandmother--a thought which caused a delicate
shudder to run through her--or try to come back to Elk Crossing and
forget the best thing that had ever happened to her.

"Okay, Martha, you win. I'll come to
California for a few weeks and do the show. We can finish the
cookbook then," she heard herself say into the phone.

"Wonderful darling!" Martha gushed.
She continued talking, making plans about train tickets and where
Elsa would stay--"With me, of course, dear!"--while Elsa's heart
broke a little bit more at the thought of not catching sight of Joe
around town. While he wasn't hers anymore, the thought of not being
in the same town as he was put a lump in her throat that she felt
might never go away.

She said all the right things to
Martha on the phone and hung up. She set off to find Claire and
tell her the good news. Mustering all the strength inside her, she
plastered a smile on her face and went to act happy to her
friend.

After that, it was a whirlwind of
activity. With regret, she decided to leave all of her things at
Joe's house. Claire had gone over and gotten her clothing and some
personal items, but any furniture or movies she hand't bothered to
ask for. Since she'd had no contact with him, she hadn't had the
chance to talk about how things should be divided. Fuck it, she
decided. If she no longer had the man of her dreams, she didn't
need the rest of that stuff either. She had Spike and some clothes
and her laptop. That was all she needed. Unfortunately, Spike could
not come with her to Martha's in Southern California, nor on the
train, so she made Jordan promise he would take the little guy to
Joe's house the day after she departed. Jordan agreed, but didn't
look happy about it.

"I wish you'd just talk to him before
you go, Else."

"I don't know what I would say,
Jordan. He doesn't want me."

"You don't know that! He's a fucking
mess. He misses you so bad."

"He didn't look like he was missing me
that day at the gym."

Jordan sighed. They'd been over this.
"I told you, Else, that woman just came on to him right as you
walked in. He was coming home to you..."

"Just like he came home that night,
right? Just like he made decisions about our life together without
consulting me?"

Jordan shook his head. Claire had
offered to fill him in on the details but he didn't need to know
everything to figure out that his two pigheaded friends had massive
communication issues. Maybe they shouldn't be together, after all.
Surely, Joe would stop roaming the gym like a man haunted and
hollow-eyed...eventually.

Claire drove Elsa to the train station
in Seton Harbor. They hugged, teary eyed and Claire promised to
call as soon as she got to L.A.

"Claire, I can't thank you and Jordan
enough for putting up with me these couple months. I'm going to
miss you so much!"

"Come back soon, sweetie. Remember,
you still have us and we love ya!"

Elsa boarded the train and waved to
her friend as the train left the depot. She kept waving until
Claire was just a dot on the horizon, then turned forward in her
seat, determined to face a new future with a brave face though her
heart was heavy with longing.

Chapter Sixteen: Joe the
Fighter

Jordan pulled up to the
curb at Joe's place, noting that the lawn needed mowing and the
curtains were drawn tightly at the windows.
Summertime at the Pacific Coast doesn't last long enough to
be cooped up inside
, he thought. When not
at the gym, Joe seemed to be spending all of his time in the house,
amongst Elsa's things she left behind. It was unhealthy. Just as
Elsa's not eating was unhealthy. Jordan hoped the return of his
beloved dog might wake Joe up from his funk.

He opened the door with a hollered,
"Helloooo!" and walked right in. The air was stale from being
closed up. He put Spike down, who promptly went around the house
sniffing all his old familiar haunts. Jordan went down the hallway
to Joe's bedroom where he found the big man sprawled out in his gym
clothes atop the covers. The bedroom was stiflingly hot. Jordan
opened the curtains and lifted the window sash to let in the breeze
from the ocean. The light hit Joe full in the face and he groaned,
flopping onto his stomach and burying his head in the pillows. Two
sets of pillows still, Jordan noticed.

"Dude, come on. Get up. There's
someone here to see you."

BOOK: Not My Type
9.17Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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