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CHAPTER FOUR: Live A Little

CHAPTER FOUR: Live A Little

GRIT GUILD - BLOOM WHERE YOU DARE

Mar 16, 2025
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PEARLER
PEARLER
CHAPTER FOUR: Live A Little
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Oh, hello Grit Guild babes.

Welcome back to our choose-your-own-adventure rom-com smutty love fest novel experiment.

What am I learning? You want the sexy and the smutty and the flirty and you want it now! And I am here for it.

We left our delicious Lulu hungover on a plane after a birthday party-turn-orgy pondering her life choices. You voted for Pascoe to pass her number onto Greg the Butcher who very decidedly wants to devour her whole. And you also voted for her to introduce herself as herself and not as Pascoe to her handsome seat mate on the plane in an effort to “live a little.”

Let’s see how that unravels, shall we?!

Image Description: a floral background in yellows, peaches, greens and pinks with white text over the top that reads: BLOOM, BABY, BLOOM

BLOOM WHERE YOU DARE - CHAPTER FOUR

I step out of the car, the chill in the air cools my skin instantly as I turn to thank my unexpected chauffeurs.

"Thanks so much for the lift, guys. You really didn't have to."

My seatmate, Benji waves me off with a smile. "It's no trouble at all! We were headed this way anyway."

His husband Ryan nods in agreement. "Yeah, happy to help. Enjoy your stay!"

“It was so lovely to meet you, Lulu. Please stay in touch” Benji says reaching out and squeezing my hand through the window of the expensive, but seemingly unnecessary in the inner city, giant, sleek four-wheel-drive.

As they drive away, I can't help but laugh at the sheer Lulu-ness of this situation. Here I was thinking I was initiating a sexy holiday fling and instead I end up playing accidental third wheel to the most adorable queer couple I've ever met. For a split second on the plane, I'd considered introducing myself as Pascoe but chickened out at the last minute.

Dragging my suitcase toward the hotel entrance, I think about the whirlwind of the last few hours. Benji had barely stopped for air once I’d introduced myself. I’d learnt all about his work at the LGBTQIA+ Legal service, his three rescue dogs, and his husband Ryan. He’d told me all about how they met on the first day of university, locking eyes during orientation. That moment led to an impromptu lunch date that turned into dinner, that led to twenty-one years together.

When we touched down and made our way through the bustling airport, Benji kept the stories coming. He told me how Ryan had proposed by hiding the ring inside a souvlaki. "I said yes before he even finished asking," Benji had said, giggling at the memory, his face lighting up with happiness.

I sigh, a pang of longing in my chest. That's what I've always dreamed of - meeting someone, connecting instantly, and falling devotedly in love. But somehow, it's never happened for me. Always a situationship, or complicated in some way, or me misreading a situation and flailing. Meanwhile, Pascoe, who's always claimed to want the opposite, has people declaring their undying love for her left and right.

If only we could swap lives for a bit.

I get out my phone and type out a quick message to her:

ME: Made it to the hotel. You can give Greg my number. Some fun could be good. P.S. Send some of your mojo my way, please? Love you.”

An hour later I flop onto the plush king-sized bed in my hotel room, and slide my newly shaved, moisturized legs together. The everything shower helped my hangover, but my head is still pounding. Why did I drink so much last night? I stretch out on the bed, relishing the cool sheets against my skin as my phone pings. An unknown number. My heart races as I read:

“Ms Dare, a delight to meet you last night. I would certainly like to learn more about you. My interest is piqued. I hope you enjoyed the show ;) and that your get away is as surprisingly eventful. Greg xx”

Oh gahhhd! What do I say? How do you even flirt via text? If Pascoe was here what would she suggest? Or better yet what would Pascoe reply?

Taking a deep breath, I type back quickly:

ME: Lovely to meet you too, Greg the Butcher. I’ll have you know I’m an excellent teacher, so I’m happy to educate you. I’ll also have you know I’m a very good student which is lucky because I can already tell you have a lot to teach me. Just got to my hotel…the bed is large.

I hit send with a loud embarrassed groan before I can second-guess myself. Almost immediately, memories from last night flood my mind - the heat of bodies pressed together, hands pressed eagerly into skin, and Greg’s intense eyes seeming to see right through me as he expertly made Ophelia cum with little effort.

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