Sext Addict: A Sexy Romantic Comedy Reverse Harem Page 7

  I thought I couldn’t feel lonelier than I had before deciding to do the sex study. But as I crawled out of the shrubs a few minutes later and picked branches out of my hair, I realized I couldn’t have been more wrong.

  Cade

  As I’d sipped my beer on the patio and stared out over the sunset, I’d been buzzing with excitement to see Tessa.

  That was before the texts, of course.

  My first thought was that something terrible had happened to Tessa on her way to the restaurant on the beach. Surely she had been mugged and the person who stole her possessions and left her bloodied in some ally was attempting to impersonate her so I wouldn’t grow suspicious. I actually pondered for a moment calling the cops, because the person texting me from Tessa’s number could not possibly be the same girl from the gym.

  It was impossible. Absolutely impossible.

  Maybe one of the other women from the gym had stolen her phone, I thought as the texts became more wild.

  I’d turned down drinks with Patricia after nearly every yoga class at the gym because I knew she only wanted my “cobra” in her “downward dog.” Perhaps Patricia had followed Tessa, knocked her in the back of her head with her yoga mat, and was using her phone to lure me into her bedroom in her mansion in the Hills. The thought made me shudder despite the warm sunlight through the bamboo roof of the restaurant patio.

  But the longer the texting went on, the failed attempts at sexiness got worse and worse, and it grew abundantly clear that Tessa hadn’t been mugged or attacked by Patricia or inhabited by some extra-terrestrial life force. It was Tessa texting from her phone. Well, sexting, really. Or at least, some rancid version of sexting.

  And it made me sad.

  I didn’t know her at all. Had barely spoken a few sentences with her before asking her out. But we’d watched each other so long, I’d felt like I’d known her. At least, I’d known enough about to her to believe she had depth to her, and that maybe she liked me more than just for my body. Hell, I wasn’t looking for a serious commitment or to put a ring on her finger given this was supposed to be our first date, but I’d grown sick of meaningless hook-ups a long time ago.

  I left the restaurant before she arrived and wondered how I had been so wrong.

  I ducked into my van that was parked in the far corner of the restaurant parking lot, and slipped off one suit and pulled on another. Grabbing my board off the top of my van, I walked across the sand toward the waves.

  I was disappointed so I shouldn’t have been humming. But I was, and when I realized what I was humming, I had to pause. A song by recording artist Kelis.

  I smiled even as I shook my head.

  My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard…

  Chapter 7

  Tessa

  “I’m sure it wasn’t as bad as you’re saying it was,” Ellis said, reaching toward the bowl of popcorn in my lap to grab another piece.

  I wasn’t fast enough to snatch it away from him. Before we put on A Philadelphia Story, with Katherine Hepburn and Cary Grant, I asked him if he wanted some before I decided how much to pop and he told me he didn’t want to “ruin his appetite” (winky face, winky face) before his date later that night. He forfeited his right to popcorn.

  “Just forget about it,” he said, grinning at me as he plopped the stolen kernel into his mouth.

  “Ellis,” I replied, pulling back the bowl and smacking his hand away as he stretched across the couch for another handful, “there are still leaves in my shower. Leaves. From being in shrubs. Shrubs, Ellis.”

  Ellis shrugged.

  “I one time had Jello in my shower after a date,” he answered with a mischievous wink.

  I rolled my eyes and refused to ask him how he ended up covered in Jello. After what we did before my date with Cade, I was intent on staying away from any remotely sexual topic. Ellis and I were best friends and best friends shouldn’t sext. Besides, he was the have-sex-in-a-pool-of-Jello type and I was the awkwardly-sexting-from-the-bushes type. The two didn’t exactly “go.”

  I groaned, flopping my head back on the couch. “He was a nice guy who was actually interested in me, and I asked him to lick my cherries.”

  Ellis laughed as he swiped across his phone screen, only half watching the movie we’d already both memorized from seeing it so many times.

  “Are you on Tinder right now?” I asked him.

  When Ellis looked over at me with a raised eyebrow, I quickly focused on the tiny television and plopped a handful of popcorn into my mouth.

  “No, but I am on a similar app,” he said. “It’s called Hookup Central. Why?”

  Shrugging as casually as I could muster, I said over the mouthful of popcorn, “Because you told me you already have a date in like an hour.”

  “Forty-five minutes, actually,” Ellis corrected.

  “So what are you doing on Hookup Central if you already have a date?” I asked, nodding toward his phone.

  Ellis smiled, though it looked a bit forced. “The more, the merrier, wouldn’t you agree? I mean, that is why you’re going to do the sex study, right?”

  Right. I turned back to the movie.

  “I’ll loan you the money, you know. The eight thousand dollars you’d get if you do the sex study, I mean.” Ellis’s voice was sincere, holding both concern and worry.

  I looked at him. “I know. And I appreciate the offer. But I'm covered with what my parents loaned me for a while longer. Besides, New Tessa is done leaning on her best friend. New Tessa wants to earn her own way in life.” I thought about telling him about my plan to move home if I didn’t get an acting job or accepted for the sex study, but again I held back. I still had almost a month to get the money and I didn't want to even attempt to verbalize how much I'd miss him if I had to move. I'd cry my eyes out.

  So Cade was no longer an option. Surely there were other guys out there I could recruit? But I didn’t like the idea of sleeping with strangers. I mean, Cade had been kind of a stranger, but…not.

  So what was I going to do? Was it too much to think I could meet three guys that were strangers now but wouldn’t be strangers by the time the sex study started? Three good guys I was attracted to who, like me, just happened to need an adventure and $8,000 to get a jump start on the life they dreamed of? Given my dating record, it seemed farfetched.

  Dejected, I looked at Ellis who was still glancing at his phone, and I suddenly straightened.

  “I should try your app.”

  Ellis’s gaze jerked to mine. “What?”

  “Hookup Central, right?” I said. “It can help me hook up with three guys can’t it?”

  Ellis scowled at me. “You knew Cade and look what happened. Now you want to just troll for three random guys?”

  I sucked in a breath at his judgy tone. “Why not. You’re trolling for your next lover or two right now, aren’t you? Double standard much?”

  Ellis had the good grace to look ashamed. “I’m sorry. You’re right. That was a dick thing to say.”

  “You’re right. It was.”

  I stared at the television screen again, refusing to say anything else.

  Ellis sighed. “I guarantee you’ll have more eggplant emojis in your inbox than you’ll know what to do with by the time the night is over,” Ellis said, sitting up from his lounged position on the couch. “Come on, where’s your phone?”

  I turned back to him. “You’re gong to help me?”

  “Of course, you’re my best friend, Tessa. If you want to Hookup, I’ll help you Hookup.”

  I shook my head. “No, never mind. You’re right. Look what happened with Cade. Me and technology are not a good mix.” My face turned red just thinking about offering to put Cade’s pepper inside me.

  “You’ll be fine. Now where’s your phone?”

  “Ellis, no,” I said, shoving him back down as he started searching between the Chinese takeout boxes littering my coffee table.

  “Tessa, where is—ah ha!” Ellis turned around with
my phone held victoriously in his hands.

  “I said no. Besides, I can’t even set up a profile.” I lunged for my cell phone, but he pulled it back.

  It should come as no surprise that the guy with the perfect six pack and biceps like a Greek god was in better shape than me.

  “Why not?” Ellis asked, typing in the password to unlock my phone.

  Of course he knew it. Ellis knew everything about me.

  “Because I don’t have any pictures of myself I like enough to, you know, put out there and all,” I mumbled

  There was only the sound of the television as I focused intently on my toes and waited for Ellis’s response. I didn’t want to think of all the times when I felt most alone, as I waited for the bus to arrive or for my ramen to microwave or for an elliptical to open up at the gym, that I considered creating a Tinder profile, or figuring out what the heck Bumble was. I was pretty sure Grindr wasn’t my thing. But it always ended the same way: I would flip through the photos of myself on my phone and wince at every single one of them before reassuring myself I just wasn’t the type of girl who “did” Tinder. None of this Ellis knew, though.

  “Tessa Stewart,” Ellis finally said, “that is the lamest, dumbest excuse I have ever heard in my entire life.”

  I dragged my gaze up to his. “Ellis, I—”

  “I have loads of pictures of you that will work.”

  He plopped back down next to me on the couch and pulled out his phone. As I fumbled for words, he flipped around his screen and showed me a picture of myself I’d never seen before.

  “When did you take this?” I asked, looking at him in confusion.

  It was a picture of me at the beach. Watermelon slice in hand, sea salt tangled hair on a messy bun on top of my head, and a seemingly carefree smile on my face as I laughed at something surely Ellis said. I looked happy. I looked…pretty.

  “I take pictures of you all the time without you knowing.” Ellis grabbed the phone and scrolled down the page before turning the screen back around to face me.

  “Um, that’s not creepy at all, friend,” I said, leaning closer to see another picture of me.

  I knew what pictures of me looked like: they were not pretty. I’d spent hours trying to perfect the beautiful pictures I saw on other girls’ social media profiles. But I always found something wrong with the pictures I took of myself: double chin, chip in my front tooth, cheeks too red, lips too small.

  But the next picture that I stared at on Ellis’s phone was flawless.

  I was on stage at an acting workshop Ellis had dragged me to (literally he had to drag me through the front doors). The bright lights were on me, which made my hair look shiny, my skin appear soft and supple, and my body curvy in all the right ways. There was emotion on my face as I held the script in my hands, emotion I never saw when I practiced lines in front of my own bathroom mirror.

  I had no idea that Ellis had even been watching my performance, let alone taking a thoughtful, intimate picture of it. My heart did a twisty thing inside my chest.

  Looking up, I found Ellis typing on my phone. “What are you doing?” I asked, suddenly nervous.

  “Making your Hookup Central profile,” he said, not bothering to even look up at me.

  “No, no, wait.” I reached out for my phone, but he again pulled it away from my flailing arm. “Ellis, stop. What are you writing? I—”

  Ellis placed a silencing finger to my lips as he somehow kept typing with a single thumb.

  “Ellis…” I mumbled against his finger.

  “Shh, shh,” he hushed.

  “But—”

  Ellis pressed one final button and then smiled up at me. “It’s done.”

  “What?”

  He handed me my phone. “Welcome to Hookup Central, Tessa Stewart,” he said, as my eyes skimmed over the profile he created for me. “It is the cesspool of humanity. And it is beautiful.”

  “You wrote that I’m an actor,” I said, still scrolling.

  “Yeah?”

  I gave him a pointed look. “You do know that I’ve never actually booked a gig, right?”

  Ellis reached forward and grabbed my cheeks like the sweet, kind grandma I didn’t have. I winced as he squeezed and pulled at them.

  “Ow,” I grumbled, pushing at his muscular forearms. How does anyone even work out their forearms—oh.

  “Tessa.” Ellis patted my cheek before pushing my phone up toward my face. “Don’t overthink it.” He stood up then and slipped his cell phone into his back pocket. “You can explain that you’re a brilliant actress who will be famous and rich and beloved once she walks through the goddamn audition room door.” Ellis leaned over to kiss me on the forehead. “Just start swiping, okay?”

  “Wait,” I said as he turned toward the door. “Where are you going? I don’t know how to do this.”

  He laughed and moved around the back of the couch. He reached his arms around each side of my neck and rested his chin on my shoulder. I froze like a deer in the headlights, trying desperately not to breathe in the delicious citrusy smell of his aftershave. His hair against my cheek was soft as he pushed buttons I wasn’t paying attention to on my phone.

  “There,” he said, showing me a few example swipes on the app. Hot guy after hot guy went whizzing by.

  “Could not be easier.” Ellis’s voice was warm against my ear.

  I told the goosebumps climbing up my spine to go ahead and climb right back down.

  He backed up. “I have to get to that date, alright?”

  Maybe it was just me hoping that there was a tinge of hesitation in his voice, but I thought I heard it. It was as if he was waiting—hoping, even—for me to say something to stop him. As he paused with his chin on my shoulder, our cheeks pressed against one another, I considered doing just that: stopping him. In my mind I sexily whispered, “Could you feel my forehead before you leave? I think I’m coming down with something.” Then, “Hey, really quick, my sink has been making funny noises all week. Can you take a little look?” Or the boldest of all: “Ellis, I want you to stay.”

  I knew those were words I would never say.

  “Yeah, yeah, have fun,” I said, leaning away from the touch of his warm skin against mine. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  I forced a casual laugh out from my suddenly dry lips. It died when I saw the flash of disappointment on Ellis’s face. But before I could say something, he recovered. His easy, charming smile was right back in place.

  “And what exactly do you do, Tess?” he joked as he again headed toward my front door. “Butterfly kisses?”

  I stuck my tongue out at him. Ellis was halfway out of the door when my phone dinged in my hand. I stared in confusion at the notice.

  “A match already?” Ellis asked.

  I looked up at Ellis and shrugged. “I guess.”

  I turned my attention back to my phone. My match was Levi P. from San Diego. And he was hot.

  “Let me see.”

  I heard the door click shut, and before I could respond, Ellis was back, wiggling in next to me on the couch. His fingers wrapped around mine to tilt the screen toward him. I glanced over at his face to see if the heat of my skin was affecting him the way his was affecting me. His eyes were skimming Levi P.’s profile.

  “He sent you a message.”

  In surprise, I turned to see Ellis opening the chat.

  LEVI P: Love those pics, babe. Got any more to send?

  Ellis laughed as I just gawked.

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

  “Tess, you know what that means.”

  Ellis gave me a quick wink before flipping through Levi P.’s pictures. They were all pretty much the same: naked six pack at the beach, naked six pack at the park, naked six pack with a dog, naked six pack in Vegas, naked six pack with yet another dog.

  “What do I do?” I asked Ellis. “What do I say?”

  Ellis drummed his fingers along the side of my phone. “Here,” he said.


  I watched as he typed, ‘You first big fella.’

  “Ellis!”

  When I shoved his shoulder, he laughed playfully. “What?” he said, throwing his hands up innocently and grinning wide. “I thought you wanted to get guys to do a sex study with you. You might as well make sure they’re hung.”

  “Ellis!” I repeated, my voice somehow reaching a higher octave.

  Ellis and I both jumped when we heard pounding from next door.

  “Oy!” Jamie called. “Can a guy get some peace and quiet or what?”

  I rolled my eyes but did respond, shouting, “Sorry!”

  He banged away on those drums all night long on Mondays, but I couldn’t say a single word above a whisper on a Friday night? If I thought I could fit my hands around the big Irishman’s neck, I would wring said neck.

  “Levi P. hot damn,” Ellis suddenly said, adding a low whistle. “Hot damn, hot damn.”

  “What?” I asked. “Did he send a pic?”

  Ellis laughed. “Oh, he sent a picture alright.”

  He handed me the phone and I nearly yelped as I tossed the phone back into Ellis’s lap as if we were children playing a game of hot potato.

  “It’s a penis!” I shouted.

  “Oy!” Jamie grumbled next door. “Shut it!”

  Ellis ignored my neighbor’s protestations as he stared at me in confusion before grabbing my phone. “What in the world did you expect it to be?”

  “I don’t know.” I took the phone again as Ellis pushed it toward me. I glanced down at the photo of Levi P. from San Diego’s hard penis. “A selfie or something...”

  “It’s a selfie, alright.” Ellis chuckled. “Just not a selfie of the kind of head you were expecting.”

  I groaned and deleted the picture right away.

  “What, you don’t want my help sending a picture of your boobs in return?” Ellis asked, now gripping his side in uncontrollable laughter.

  “A picture of my boobs?” I asked in response, incredulous.

  Ellis placed both hands on my shoulders and leaned in close to my face.

  “Tess, you do know that you’re going to have to take your clothes off for this sex study, right?”