Michael planted a kiss on my lips and rolled off of me, staring up at the ceiling. “Mia, you’re going to kill me with all this sex,” he said, chuckling and breathing heavy. His chest rose and fell with every breath, the sunlight flooding in through the sheer curtains and shining against his sweaty chest.
I rolled onto my stomach, kicking my legs back and forth, and smiled at him. He glanced down at me, lips curled into a smile too. It had been a couple days since I told Michael I loved him and we’ve been having sex whenever we could. This honeymoon phase would wear off soon, but I just couldn’t keep my hands off of him.
On the other hand, Mom was recovering quicker than the doctors expected. I think it was because James sat by her bed all day every day, cracking jokes and telling her that she better get better, that they had so much to do in their lives together.
Mom was happy. I rested my fingers on Michael’s chest. And so was I.
“You’re not saying you want to stop having sex, are you?” I asked playfully, brow raised.
He chuckled and pulled me onto his chest. “No.” His eyes were ocean blue, and I wanted to stare into them forever. They were so damn beautiful and they were all mine. “I would never want to stop loving you.”
My heart fluttered. Usually by now the butterflies would’ve worn off, at least that’s how they did with Mason, but I still felt them. They were still there and that made me feel so good on the inside.
“Breakfast in half an hour?” he asked. “We could go to your favorite place?”
“And get pancakes with strawberries?” I asked, curling my fingers into his chest.
“Anything you want.”
I stared at him in awe and nodded. Things weren’t perfect. They were far from it, but this was what I wanted. For the first time in my entire life, I got to choose who I was with and who I could be happy with. And I finally had a man who was mine.
“I’m going to shower first,” Michael said, pressing his lips to mine. “Care to join me?”
I pushed him toward our bathroom. “Maybe later,” I said. There was so much work that had piled up these past few weeks for school that I had to do. I was taking summer classes to catch up on my missed first semester. “I have to do some work for school.”
“There’s always room.” He winked and walked back into the bathroom, peeling off his shirt and showing me that damn sexy body. If I didn’t have self-restraint, I’d hop right into the shower with him and let him take me the rest of the day.
But I had shit to do, shit that would help me get a better future. So, I plopped down at the kitchen table and opened my laptop. All of my missed work from the past week popped up along with emails from some of my professors asking me how my mother was doing.
I started on my psych homework, reading through the textbook and trying to concentrate. My phone buzzed on the table, and I glanced at it, seeing Mason’s number pop up onto the screen. My eyes widened and I opened the phone, reading the message. He hadn’t texted me in a couple of weeks. Why was he suddenl--
Can I see you?
Almost a second later another message appeared. Please, I want to talk.
I rolled my eyes and shut the phone off so it wouldn’t be a distraction. I didn’t want to delete the conversation or his number, so--if I needed to--I could provide Melissa with proof that he wouldn’t ever appreciate her. I doubt she’d actually believe me but it was worth a shot.
After silencing my phone, I continued reading about different abnormalities in the brain, trying to understand just what was happening to Mom and her memory. But someone obviously didn’t want me to study today because they knocked on the front door.
I raised my brow and glanced at the door, eyeing it to see if it was Mason. He would be the one to show up and ruin my entire life. When I caught a glimpse of Melissa’s blonde hair through one of the door windows, I hopped up from my seat and walked down the stairs.
I didn’t really like answering other people’s doors, but Michael was in the shower, washing off from that amazing sex. But when I opened the door, it wasn’t Melissa.
I sucked in a deep breath, my eyes widening at the woman standing before me. I hadn’t seen her in years, but she hadn’t changed one bit. Melissa’s mother stood at the front door, a Gucci purse hanging off her forearm and a fake smile plastered on her face “Hi Mia. Is Michael home?”
The End of book 1.
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