Always looking for the next best thing

Grant looked at the bill and inflated his cheeks before blowing out a long breath. “Wow. This place is so expensive.”

I exhaled a silent sigh. The bill was $150. If we had gone out numerous times a month and he paid for dinner, I could understand his dissatisfaction. But this was the first dinner in two months.

Everything was expensive for him. Again, I could understand if he had a lot of bills to pay, but he stayed at home with his parents. Oh, God, there’s that as well.

Can’t believe I actually allowed myself to enter into a relationship with a 32-year-old “man” who still lives at home. What’s worse is that he owns a vacant apartment. I’ve told him numerous times to rent it out. I still don’t understand his reasoning for not doing it.

As he stares at the bill and twists his credit card with his thumb and index fix, probably hoping that will somehow lower the total, I question my reason for staying with him.

He got so jealous when I told him that my girlfriend invited me to join her in Japan for skiing. I begged him several times to take a trip to Spain with me, but he always made some excuse. I eventually realised that he didn’t want to spend money on the trip.

The stay-at-home movie dates were fun for about a week or two, but I needed to see places. And he’s just not into that.

Finally, he put his card into the folder and closed it. I’m pretty sure that he didn’t write a tip on the bill.

Outside the restaurant, we walked to the car in silence. I’m certain that he can sense my unhappiness. We’re at the end of the road, but I don’t want to break off another relationship.

I mean, I’m 39 for crying out loud. I should be with someone serious who wants to marry me. And here I am with a mamma’s boy.

I stared at the ground and slightly swung my handbag during the walk. I knew that I should break it off, but I just didn’t have the guts. It’s almost as if I didn’t want to send a message to the universe that I keep walking away from relationships. The universe could misinterpret my message and not send me another man.

But if he breaks it off with me, then that’s a different story.

In the car before he ignited the engine, I turned to him and said, “I think your brother is gay.”

Ooh, that one hurt. I knew it would. That’s why I used it. Grant doesn’t like gays. In fact, he hates them. I think that he knows his brother is gay but has buried the truth deep in his mind and is delusional. I’m certain that convinced himself not to notice his brother’s feminine mannerisms.

His bottom lip hung, and his eyes were wide. He looked like he didn’t receive any oxygen into his lungs. He stared at me, frozen. It’s like the words hit him in the core and have cracked the wall of denial that he had built.

I’m pretty sure that he wanted to strangle me. But it’s like he didn’t have enough strength to even lift them. He was seething, but the walls had come down and he couldn’t blame me for telling the truth.

“I can’t believe you said that,” Grant said.

Yep. There it is—confirmation that he’s aware that other people noticed his brother’s homosexuality.

I kept looking at him, wondering what he was going to do next. I hadn’t ruled out violence. He exhaled through his nose, pressed the hand break down and then pulled off.

His tires screeched in front of my building, and he slammed the brakes, jolting me slightly forward.

“Get out. It’s over,” he said.

I kind of felt bad for him, but I’m glad that he broke it off with me. It was best for both of us. Maybe now I can find somebody with whom I can build a future.

The following night, I scrolled through my phone book. A smile appeared on my face as I looked at the name Brent. He and I met in the summer as I strolled along the waterfront in front of my building.

Brent chatted me up, and I told him to take my number in case it didn’t work out with Grant since the relationship was still fresh.

He texted me the day after we met, but I told him that I couldn’t meet up with him since I was in a relationship. He respected my decision. Five months had passed since I met him.

‘Hey, how are you?’ I pressed send.

‘Good and you. Hope you’re well.’ he responded two minutes later.

‘You still in Budapest?’

‘Yes. Let’s meet up for coffee tomorrow and catch up.’

I was glad that he suggested the coffee shop at the waterfront. Even though it was close, I still texted him to give me an additional fifteen minutes because I was getting out of bed at 1 pm. Ha!

I went out with my girlfriend the night before, and I got home early in the morning. And who gets up before midday on Sunday, anyway?

While waiting for Brent in front of the coffee shop, I texted him to send me his photo since I’d forgotten how he looked. I know, not a great way to put my best foot forward. But I figured that he’d understand.

He entered the restaurant, and I recognised him. I smiled and hugged him. He was also happy to see me. The place was stuffy thanks to all the disgusting smokers. Yuk. He agreed that we should go somewhere else, and I suggested a walk along the waterfront.

“Why don’t we get coffee to take with us?” he asked.

“I don’t drink coffee.”

“Neither do I. Tea?”

“Sounds good.”

A waitress placed two cups on the bar and said, “$10.”

Brent’s cunning smile revealed that he wasn’t thrilled about paying that much for tea but did so anyway. I must admit that is a bit much for tea.

During the stroll, he told me that he wanted to travel the world to promote his books. I loved that he was keen to discover the world and experience different cultures. Grant was closed off to that. He was very conservative when it came to exploring different things.

“I remember when we met that you were with some guy,” said Brent. “I wanted to contact you, but I didn’t want to be the third wheel, so I figured that if we were meant to be, it would somehow happen.”

“That’s actually so romantic. And no, I’m no longer with Grant.” I went on to tell him how he’s a mamma’s boy who didn’t really have any ambition. Brent laughed when I told him about Grant’s expression after I said his brother was gay.

After strolling the waterfront and chatting for an hour, we walked to the front of my building. I had a good time, but I wasn’t sure about Brent. Something in my gut told me that I needed a second opinion.

Two hours after my date with Brent, I met up with my bestie, Fran. She’s such a doll. It’s like she can read me and knows me better than I know myself.

I told her about my date with Brent and how I was uncertain if I should pursue him further.

“Jen, you’re doing it again,” she said.

I frowned. “Doing what?”

“You’re trying to find something wrong with him so you can disqualify him before you’ve even given him a chance.”

I slightly smiled and then dropped my gaze to the floor. I had hoped she would tell me that I shouldn’t see him again, but that would only prove her point even more.

Brent texted me the following day to tell me that he had a great time and that he wanted to see me again. I agreed.

On the second date, we kissed. Five more dates followed before we made ‘us’ official.

Two weeks after becoming an item, we had sex. I wanted to do it at my place because it made me feel comfortable.

I got in the doggy-style position on my bed, and Brent stood in front of it. He grabbed my waist and stuck his dick into my pussy without a condom. I can’t lie, a part of me wanted to get pregnant, even though I wasn’t sure about him yet.

He grabbed my hair and yanked it towards him. My head snapped back, and I shot out an, “Ow.” But I liked it. Grant wasn’t aggressive, so I was keen to see what Brent had up his sleeve.

He stuck his finger in my ass and poked around a bit. No guy had done that to me. I must admit that I wouldn’t have minded if he had stuck his dick into my ass. I had always been fascinated with anal sex. Must be fun, a bit painful, but no doubt it gets better after a few pumps.

Brent nailed me hard from behind. I screamed several times, and he kept pulling my hair back, which I thought was really kinky.

“Come suck here,” he said during the hard pounding.

I turned around on my hands and knees and sucked his dick. His mischievous smile showed me that he enjoyed my tongue licking his tip while my lips slid up and down his dick.

As I pulled back, he kept smiling at me.

I got on my back, grabbed my ankles and then opened my legs wide, smiling at him. He grabbed my calves and pushed my legs forward. My knees were almost to the sides of my head as he penetrated me hard. Again, I screamed.

After a few minutes, his face flushed, and he froze. He quickly whipped out his dick and shot his load onto my stomach and chest. We cuddled afterwards.

A few weeks later, we went out for dinner. We had a great time until the bill arrived. The total was $300. Brent reacted the same as Grant. I closed my eyes and bowed my head. I don’t think he saw my reaction. Then again, I didn’t care.

I glared at him. He hesitantly put the cash into the folder, and I know for sure that he didn’t tip because I saw three one-hundred notes. What an ass. It’s not the waitress’s fault that he’s so frugal.

His reaction to the bill was on my mind for the rest of the night and the following day.

I just had to talk to Fran, so I called her after work.

We met at a cocktail bar, and I gave her the scoop.

“So what now?” she asked.

“I broke up with him today.”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Let me guess, he reminded you of Grant.”

I leaned forward, and my eyes widened. “Exactly.”

“Why? Because he didn’t want to spend a few hundred dollars on dinner?”

“Not just that. I got mamma’s-boy vibes all over again.”

“Does he live with his mother?”

“No.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

My nose wrinkled. “I don’t know.”

“Would you like me to tell you?”

“I’m not sure I like the sound of that.”

“The problem is you. Nobody is ever going to be good enough for you.”

My eyes darted to the floor, and I slowly nodded. “What should I do?”

“Think about all your flaws. You’re not perfect either, yet every guy you’ve been with put up with you crap. I can’t remember ever you telling me that a guy broke up with you.”

I always hated it when Fran told the cold, hard truth. It was a hard pill to swallow.

After our chat, I walked along the waterfront and thought about what she said. She was right. I had to be more understanding and forgiving. It was the only way I would find true love, get married and eventually have lots of babies.

A hot guy walked passed me and smiled. I mean, he was really hot. Tall, thick, dark hair and wearing a three-piece suit that made him look like he employed five hundred people. Oh, God. Look at his suede shoes. Who wears suede shoes with a black suit? Yuk! Thank goodness I avoided that disaster.

CHECK OUT MY NOVEL, MY WIFE AND GIRLFRIEND

TIP ME ON PAYPAL: www.paypal.me/GoranRadanovic

READ NEXT: Bathroom Sex After a Horrendous Year