Big Girls Do It Married Read Free Page B

where everything belonged. The pile of clothes in the corner by the dresser wasn't just a pile of clothes. It was a specifically sorted pile of clothes; shirts were on top, pants, shorts, and skirts on bottom. The magazines stacked on top of the dresser were piled in order of how much I liked each issue. The bra hanging on the doorknob was clean, the one hanging in the bathroom was dirty. It looked like a mess to a casual observer, but it was my mess, and it was an organized mess.  
    Now, after the military cleanliness of Jeff's place, it just looked messy. Jeff would shoot me irritated glances if I left my clothes on the floor. He wouldn't get mad or yell at me—he'd just pick it up and make me feel guilty with a few calculated glances. Now, lying in my bed, looking at the piles of crap, I realized I didn't feel comfortable here anymore. It had felt like my nest before spending so much time at Jeff's.
    I wanted to be back at Jeff's. What did that mean? Did it mean I loved him more than Chase? I hadn't really liked being at Chase's place. It was a room in a house he shared with his band. It was clean enough, nice enough, but it just hadn't felt like home.
    Jeff's house was home. Jeff was home.  
    But Chase...he was exciting. He made me dizzy with desire, pure lust, unadulterated greed for his body. He was a rockstar. He'd be famous. I could be famous just for being his girlfriend.  
    Jamie wouldn't hesitate. The chance to be with a real live rockstar, an up-and-coming player on the music scene, that wasn't an opportunity to pass up. Especially not when the sex was so mind-blowing.  
    I found myself out of bed and cleaning up as I thought. My bed got made, the clothes stacked on it folded, put away. Dirty laundry was set outside my door to wash, magazines and books were put away on the bookshelf opposite my bed. I even vacuumed.  
    None of this, however, got me any closer to knowing what to do.
    I felt better about my room, and was able to actually relax without feeling claustrophobic. I also knew if Jeff came over, he'd be comfortable. He'd tried coming over once, but after that one visit, he'd never suggested coming back. It may have had something to do with the loud and vocal sex noises coming from Jamie's room, but my mess was the largest part of it, even if he'd never said anything.
    Chase wouldn't have minded. He'd have cleared a path to the bed, added our clothes to the mess, and turned his attention to my body.  
    Was that something to base a decision on? Suddenly, every little factor and facet of the two men was brought into focus. Jeff was clean, neat, organized, methodical. He was steady, stable. Not predictable, because he'd shown a capacity for constantly surprising me. But I could always depend on him.  
    Even now, stewing in my room, I knew I could expect to hear from him soon. He'd get tired of waiting and wonder where I was. He'd want to know what I was doing, even if it was just to make sure I was safe.  
    Was Chase dependable? My gut told me he'd be there if I needed him. He really would give up his rising career in music if I told him that was the price to be with me. He'd turn his back on it all and stay here with me. He'd play local gigs, maybe start DJing with me. He'd give me what I wanted. But...he'd always wonder what could have been if he'd followed his dreams, stuck with the career rather than the girl. Would he resent me?
    God, my head was spinning. They were two totally different men, both amazing in their own ways. They were both claiming to be in love with me, and I was faced with the choice between them. This was the stuff of Regency romance books: The plucky and intrepid and oh-so-charming heroine was presented with the impossible task of choosing between the wealthy nobleman offering her a comfortable future and the poor but handsome and completely devoted peasant who loved her unconditionally. Yeah, that was me. Except this was my life. No one was writing this story. I had to make