Dear Diary,
They say you never forget your first.
He was totally gorgeous, but in a slummy, farmhand way that just makes it that much hotter, ya know? Dipping your pen in the company ink, so to speak. The company, of course, in this case, being the East India Trading Company.
We just stood there, like, staring each other down. Fear. Loathing. Totally sexy. Him, a helpless slave chained to the hull of a shipwreck; me, a cloud of freaking smoke.
God, those eyes. So smoldery. So — lined.
1867 was a seriously great year.
Ricardo Slavepants totally believed me when I told him I’d hook him up with his dead wife if he’d off Jacob for me. He was gonna do it too, ‘cept Jacob had to go and screw it all up for me.
Jerk.
Oh, I’m Jacob, look at me. I think everybody is good and won’t be corrupted. I shouldn’t have to convince them to do the right thing. I want them to want to be good.
Does it get cold up there on that high horse, Jacob?
(Oh that reminds me, Richie Smolder-eyes on a horse? Uh, yeah. I’ll have seconds.)
Anyway. Blah blah human condition blah I can’t step in blah. Bottom line: Jacob needs a go-to guy. And Rico Glaro there is all like “Pick me! Pick me!”
So what? Jacob convinced Ricardus von Guyliner to play for the home team. But he also gave him eternal life. Pa-lenty of time to change his mind.
Oh, yeah. I heard him. All the way across the island, clear as a bell, “I changed my mind.”
Message received, Ricky.
Isn’t that just how it always works out, Diary? You give up on ‘em, find someone new, and BOOM! Back in your life, just like that.
I don’t know how James’ll take the news that my Ex is back in the picture. I guess maybe I’ll not tell him, at least not right now.
I gotta have some time to process all this. I mean, Richard meant so much to me. But James is just so dreamy.
I guess I got me some thinkin’ to do, Diary.
Love,
Smokey John
Comments are closed.