My Second Chance at Love

What’s next?

Emma’s POV

“Hell no! You deserve so much better. Please tell me this is for good this time” yelled Court. “We’re going to get you all fixed up and go out dancing tonight. Tomorrow when we wake up, we’re going to go look at apartments.” Fixed up, we do and do well! By the time we are ready, my hair is curled, my eyes are smoky, and I look hot. I have on jeans that mold my ass perfectly and a black lace shirt, which leaves enough of a view that my black bra can be made out through the pattern of the lace. No one would have a clue that I just decided that a divorce would be the best thing for my mental health.

“Let’s take a pic for the gram,” Court announces. I’m no social media guru at all and i********: has scared me a little. Just pictures? Don’t you get bored? Court starts frowning at her phone and I immediately know she’s figured it out. “Emma, why don’t I have you on i********:?” “Because I don’t have one,” I reply. Her look of shock and horror is equal parts terrifying and hilarious. I know that she is fixing to get me to create one, but the shock she received was worth it.

She snatched my phone from me and starts tapping. Finally, she thrusts it back at me and says, “Here b***h. I created you one and I added you some man candy to look at.” I’m about to tell her that it was completely unnecessary when I receive a notification that an Andrew Miller has liked my picture. I click on the notification and it takes me to his page. I gasp. He’s the most sexy man beast I’ve ever seen. Court immediately notices my reaction and snatches my phone from me. “Oh he’s a fine specimen. I hear he’s sensational in bed.” I gasp again at her statement but am so intrigued. I pull my phone back from her grasp and begin to scroll through his profile and see the most panty dropping pictures. He’s the definition of fine. Then I see it, the red flag. He has posted a picture of a truck with “cheater” written on the windows in lipstick. I flip my phone around and show Court, “either he’s a dog or he’s with some crazy girl. Neither option is one I want to explore.”

We pocket our phones with no further discussion about Mr. Cheater Miller and head to our favorite bar. When we get there it’s a typical Friday night. We go to the area with her favorite bartender, have a shot each, then go dance. We dance to everything until I feel a pair of hands on my hips and a set of hips grinding against my ass. I feel hot breath on my ear and hear someone telling me how fine my ass looks. I’m not wanting to take anyone to Court’s apartment. I’m not ready for that, but I don’t mind some dancing. I turn around and am shocked as all hell to see that the hands belong to none other than Mr. Red Flag himself. I must say he’s bigger and sexier in person than his pictures alluded to. My lips part as I gasp for air. Not only is this beautiful man dancing with me, but he’s telling me that I look good. I begin to look around the bar to see if the choices for him were just limited or if he actually picked me. “You know you’re too pretty to be here, right,” he leans down into my ear to all but growl at me. I’m absolutely shocked. I think I frown, but can’t be sure what expression my face makes. What does he mean I’m too pretty and how does he expect me to keep dancing when he’s all in my ear talking like that? As the song changes, I step back and decide to go looking for Court. I need air and space from Mr. Smooth. As soon as I step away, my back and rear feel cold from the lack of his hands. I feel him watching me as I walk away.

As soon as I step outside to the exterior bar, I see her and we make eye contact. She holds her hands up in surrender, “I knew he was in town but I didn’t think he’d be here.” “He told me I was too pretty to be here. What the hell does that even mean?” Court just cracked up laughing. She replies with, “it means you look hot and for the first time that man met his match. He didn’t know how to deal.” “Court, I’m not ready. That was intense. Let have another drink and go.” Her laughter shifts to concern in an instant. We order our drinks, Malibu and sprite for her, Whiskey and Coke for me. We reach to pay and the bartender shakes his head no. He just tilts his head down the bar. “Dammit, he’s everywhere, Court. Let’s make this fast.”

Before we finish our drinks, Andrew makes his way to us. He walks straight to me, smirks, and says “I’m Andrew F**king Miller. Most people call me Drew. What’s your name?” “Emma and this is Court.” Court just giggled and I realize that she knows him and he knew who I was or he wouldn’t have made an appearance. “Look, Andrew, Drew, whatever, we’re just fixing to leave. It’s not a good time for me. I can’t do this, whatever this is, tonight. Okay?” I glance at Court, set my half finished drink on the bar and head toward the bathroom.

I don’t wait in the line, I just go to the sink and wash my hands. I stand there a few minutes and finally Court comes in. “He’s not happy. He thinks you rejected him. It’s like waving red to a bull. You’re the unattainable prize now, Emma,” Court explains softly. “I don’t give a s**t! Let’s go. Who’s side are you on anyway, Court?” With that I walk out of the bathroom and straight into the brick wall that it Andrew Miller. Dammit, why does he smell so good and feel so safe? No, I won’t do this. “Thanks for the drinks, Andrew. We’re going to head out. See you around,” I murmur and I walk around him and head for the exit.

We finally leave and get in the car. We pull out and head to Court’s. I’m exhausted and ready to sleep. My phone vibrates in my hand. I look down to see it’s an i********: notification. I have a message. I open it to read, “You were the prettiest thing here. Why’d you leave me?” “Ugh! Court, why did you make me follow that man?” She jerks her head around and says, “what man?” “Andrew Miller! He just sent me a message on i********:. Is he a stalker? Do I need to be worried?” She bursted out laughing, “oh you need to be worried but not because he’s a stalker. He’s a hunter and you’re his prey. He’s coming for you. He’s decided that you are his next play thing.” She’s cackling at this point. I just don’t understand what’s so funny. Why is this even a joke? I’m so frustrated at this point. My night out has led to more frustration that I’m just not able to deal with. I need sleep and a plan.