“So...” Briar casts a devious smirk my way after we’d made the several minutes’ walk back to Tara’s place. “You wanna get a bit wild?”
Raising the bag she refused to let me carry, filled with her winnings. Still can’t believe she’d turned down the money, but she told me this might be a better time.
She bartered with Ty, and in her clutches are the makings of what I’m sure—especially with her—will amp shit up.
“Hmm...” Dragging a hand over my jaw, I narrow my stare. Also, still cannot fucking believe the publicized finger bang. I have never, ever done something like that. It was so intense, such a turn on. Shit, she’s a turn on, all of her. “What just happened is the most wild thing I’ve done to date. I’m not sure how much more wild we can—”
“Same, same,” she interrupts me with a dismissive wave. “But I’ve got an idea. If you’re down for it, that is?” Lifting a shoulder, tilting her head, she smiles to herself.
“With you, I’m down for whatever.”
Briar’s tongue slides over her pink—and honestly swollen from all the face sucking we’ve been doing—lips. Brows arching as she sizes me up, a mischievous type of look overtaking her. Not a bad one, just that little devil coming out to play, which is, of course, one thing I can’t get enough of.
“Not to mention, I said it was gonna be me giving you the bang of your life, and you keep tryin’ to one up me.” Spinning on her heel, still in worn grey chucks, she makes her way into the kitchen area.
Shaking my head with a quick laugh, a little too loud, trying to cover up the resounding gulp I swallow. I love that she still makes me nervous. Not in a way where I’m gonna stutter—here’s hoping—or a way I get all flustered; well, not totally. It’s a way I’ve never felt. Because I feel addicted to her, she brings this excitement to life in general. I don’t know? But it’s way too soon to be falling this hard.
Also, she told me she wanted more. I’d implied it. I know her saying she felt something for me was big. And I love watching this armor, this persona that’s somewhat the real her, and somewhat a protective shell, start cracking bit by bit.
Taking a deep breath, I still feel like this is all a dream, following her into the kitchen. Briar rifles through the cabinets after she takes a lime from the bag. Reaching behind her, I pull out a cutting board and knife.
“I got it.” I attempt to loosen the green citrus fruit, which has quickly become one of my favorite tastes—amongst another thing—from her grasp.
“Oh no, no, no.” She draws her hand away, shielding the lime in her fist. “I can’t risk those fingers coming in close proximity with any sharp objects... ever.” She gives a flirtatious wink, sticking out her tongue. Dark wisps of hair framing her face that have slipped from her ponytail.
Leaning against the blue wall of the kitchen, I just peer at her. Reveling in the fact that she’s such a presence. I’d thought it, in New York, but she keeps confirming it with everything she does, or the things she makes me do. Well, she doesn’t make me; I want to. With her.
Briar is undoubtedly a force to be reckoned with.
For almost a full minute after she’d climaxed, which is quickly becoming my favorite thing ever to watch, she finally opened her eyes. Her blown out cheeks coated a deep shade of pink, chocolate irises filled with a hazy look of contentment. Her heart had stopped thudding quite so hard, matching the own erratic beats drumming in my chest. I tried to move the sweat matted hair from her face as she nudged her nose against mine, finishing it off with a soft and gentle kiss before my eyes went wide. Somewhat logical and practical thoughts resumed; neurons firing.
“That just happened,” she had whispered over my lips, clamping hers together to stifle a snorty laugh, taking the words right out of my mouth. I’d swiftly withdrew my hand from her jeans and yanked the hoodie down to cover her undone pants.
“Sure did,” I’d responded, out of breath, my forehead resting against hers.
“You’re a freak,” Briar said with a heavy dose of humor injected in her tone.
“So are you.”
“Who knew?” She shrugged. “Well, might as well take it all the way then.”
I had stared at her, those brown eyes only inches from mine as she stole a quick sideways glance, throwing in what I’m now learning is her challenging grin.
Holding my hand to my lips, she batted those anything but innocent lashes with a barely audible Mm-hmm. I’d begun to lick her lingering arousal from my fingers—realizing that was exactly what she was hinting.
Before I could even process what was happening—and trust me when I say the hard-on was massive—a fully unbridled look had flashed in her eyes. With a wicked gaze, she’d darted her tongue out, colliding with mine, reaching the tips of my fingers at the same time.
“Did you like that?” I ask, crossing my arms, knowing there isn’t the slightest chance in hell I’ll ever forget that moment. Sex was always sex, mostly missionary. Kyra was never down for being adventurous. I never really knew I’d be.
I didn’t have any issues getting the job done, but this, this is something entirely different. And it’s pretty fucking exciting.
“Um, obviously,” Briar answers in that duh type of sarcastic tone, struggling to remove a strand of hair that fell over her eye, with her forearm.
“I got it.” Wiping my palms over her face, no scolding, no fussing that I’ll ruin her makeup, she studies me silently for a few beats. Shaking her head and painting a smile across her lips before finishing with the lime. “I coulda done that.” I gesture to the cutting board.
“I’m sure you could.” Briar spins around from the counter. “But like I said, we must protect those fingers.” Her body shakes in that full belly type of laughter. “They really are magical.” I join in her amusement. “You should have them insured.”
“Insured?” I quirk a brow.
“Ya know, like celebrities do and stuff.”
“Is that actually true?”
“Dunno. You should google it. You know, can search it up when you’re surfing for porn or whatever.” The corner of her lips curve, a smirk bunching her cheek as she waggles her brows.
“Oh, yeah... that.”
Placing my palms against the tan island countertop on either side of Briar, dipping my head as she pokes a finger at my lips. I look at her for a few seconds before opening my mouth. She swipes it across my tongue and I clamp down, sucking the tart, zesty, slightly sweet juice from her.
Okay, this is definitely a thing.
“So, the finger thing is what I meant. You know...” A wave of heat crawls up my neck. I’m glad I... we can talk about these things. This shit I would never dream of uttering out loud, but I like it. Still, it’s kinda new. Fuck. I gotta get out of my head before I start with the stammering weirdness.
“Don’t freeze up on me now, Trey.” Briar’s warm palms cover my hands, gripping the counter. “Say what you want, right?”
God, she’s so beautiful.
“You mean, did I enjoy licking my um... juice?”
I almost choke. “You always so blunt?”
She shrugs unapologetically before cringing. Scrunching her nose so lines of wrinkles crease all the way to the bridge. “Ew, that word seriously gets me. Almost as bad as moist. Anyway, it was okay. I mean, I wasn’t like oh yay, love this so much. But it was kinda more for shock value, ya know? For our little audience.” With a click of her tongue, she twirls back to the cutting board, scooping up the wedges, dumping them in a plastic bowl.
“It was hot for me,” I admit.
“Well then, I’ll add it to the list,” she replies with a soft chuckle.
We spend the next ten minutes in the kitchen, Briar going off on a tangent about my sister. Actually, all of them. Gushing about how beautiful and friendly they are, especially Tara. I’m glad they spent some time together, not as if I had any doubt that they’d all see what I saw in her. Revealing she’s never done the whole family meet and greet with someone she’d been hanging out with. That last part makes me laugh. Pretty sure we are doing more than hanging out. I’m not going there with the exclusivity thing. At least not in this moment.
She gives me a brief look of pity, saying she’s sorry for the sucky circumstances. It is what it is. Kyra brought her brother with her around two Thanksgivings ago, when I was home from school. Tara and Riddy hit it off immediately. I’m genuinely happy for them. And currently, my mind is not dwelling on her.
We agree that out front of the bar tonight, while I was up, or down, in her front, was a winner. Though I tell her I wouldn’t be cool with someone else seeing her body.
The finger thing, she explains, is not much different from us kissing after going down on her. I disagree. I didn’t care when she ravaged my lips, or the other way around when she’d finished her thirty-four-and-a-half, but to do the same as her. Nope, I shudder, my mind isn’t going there, it’s a hard no for me.
I clarify I don’t necessarily watch a lot of porn, markedly less over the last two months. I’m pretty certain, after this weekend, I may never need to again.
“I think we should add that one, too,” Briar says, bundling the goods up in her arms, tipping her chin towards the spare room.
She’d told me earlier she has PTSD from Chaz and his cockblocky ways, and all she could think about last night, when we were on the couch, was Tara walking in.
That would have been horrendous.
“What are we adding? And what are we adding it to?”
“Bucket list, or fuck-it list type of things,” she offers casually, glancing back as I follow behind her. Juggling everything in her hands, Briar grabs a towel from the back of the door, throwing it on the nightstand before unloading her jackpot. Lining up the tequila, two shot glasses, salt, and her stack of limes.
I like that she’s considerate.
“We are adding porn,” she says. “Can watch it... together.”
Removing the blue sweatshirt, she tosses it at me in the doorway, right before I kick it shut.
“Thought you were stealing this?” I ask. Not even hiding the fact that I’m inhaling the traces of her scent. Those sweet tones of vanilla. It smells like a mixture of the two of us, and that combination is really fucking good.
“I’m definitely taking it home,” she replies with an air of certainty.
Pulling the band from her hair, she shakes out her long dark locks, falling over the front of her seriously skimpy black tank top, right to the bottom of her full, perfectly round, solid handful, tits. Without skipping a beat, she quickly tugs off her jeans, stepping out and flinging them with her foot to the corner of the modestly sized room.
“Going straight for it?”
“That’s right, buddy.” She tilts the bottle, filling each glass. “So take off your shirt and get your ass over her.”
She wiggles her backside, showing off well-maintained curves, lacy pink underwear barely covering anything. Not like I mind. Not like they’re gonna be on for long.
Folding the comforter back and then replacing it. She turns with a frown, getting a faceful of my shirt.
“Hah. Alright, alright.” She breathes in a long whiff, bunching the plaid material to her nose. “I think you smell good, too. But...” Glancing from the bed to the makeshift bar on the night table, then shifting her eyes to me. “This may get a smidge messy.”
Sporting the single brow raise that she immediately fires a heavy eye roll at, I walk over to her. Having kicked off my shoes, flinging them in the corner with her sweatshirt, socks as well.
“Messy is fine,” I tell her, slipping my palms from her shoulders, down the smooth skin of her arms until I meet her hands. Her narrowed eyes—appearing almost catlike in the dim room—drag up my torso before landing on my face. “Messy can always be cleaned up.”
With my palms flat against his nicely toned chest, chiseled to perfection, nails tracing along each grove and indentation, I push Trey back on the bed.
“Alrighty, here’s how this goes.” Climbing over him, straddling his waist, a nice kick up of the pulse thumping in his neck, Trey licks his lips. I’m so loving this playfulness. It’s exactly what I need in my life. “We’re gonna talk about what we like, or what we think we might like. But I get it can be a little uncomfortable. So I figure the tequila will help loosen our tongues.”
He beams up at me, soft waves falling to the sides, looking darker than their medium brown color against the white comforter. Trey’s strong, large, and talented hands glide up the skin of my cleanly shaven legs. Thank fuck I had a few brief minutes before we went to meet his sister to handle a few things.
“I like that idea.” His voice, somewhat gruff, eyes staying so intently fixed on mine, making me suck in a lengthy breath.
I get it, this is new. Like brand mother fucking spanking new. The infatuation is real. And while I know our time is dwindling—and truth be told, I’m most def feeling more than a little worn out—I still want more. I need it.
A raspy groan resounds from his throat. My hips somehow mindlessly grinding in slow rotations over his jeans.
Shit, shit, shit. Stay on track.
Halting my movements, that I seriously didn’t even realize I was making. My body, needy, and ultra greedy for his, for all of him. Forcing my mind not to think about the time. It doesn’t matter.
Bending down, my hair falling like a curtain around him, Trey looks me in the eye, per his norm. “You’re so incredible.” He continues with the constant praise. No lie, my heart squeezes in my chest. I push my lips to his, sucking on the bottom, which snaps back as I lean up once more.
An ear to ear grin coats his face, dimples and all as I lift the tank top over my head. Giving him an eyeful, also thankful I’d packed a matching set. My breasts pouring out over the scalloped edge of the lacy bra.
“I’m gonna throw this out there, the body shots are most definitely a turn on.” Trey nods enthusiastically, agreeing with my statement. “So my first thing, goes back to New York.”
Bending his arms, palms resting under his head, Trey tips his chin up, waiting for me to continue.
“I didn’t recognize you then, and I’m sorry.”
“No worries.” The corner of his lips tug to a smile. “I don’t look the same way I did when I first saw you. I definitely went hard with that revenge body. I think those were your words... yeah?”
I chuckle. “You seriously remember everything. It’s annoying.”
“Is it though?”
“No,” I reply after an extended sigh. “But back to that. The thought of meeting a random stranger in a bar, getting all flirty and ducking into the bathroom for a hot sesh, had me all kinds of turned on.”
Dark brows raise, his lips scrunch to the side in a light frown.
“No, no. I don’t mean a stranger. I mean... we could maybe reenact or um...”
“Oh. Role play?”
“I guess,” I answer, my nose crinkling, causing my eyes to squint.
“I’m about that. So, that means you’re coming back?”
His bare chest quakes beneath me, sending a surge between my legs. Have mercy, this guy does things to my body.
“Like your sister said, I gotta make sure everything’s up to snuff. Can’t have my name on something and not keep tabs.”
Trey clasps his hands over my forearms. “It’s going to be great,” he reassures. I bite my bottom lip, attempting to stop my frown of uncertainty from revealing itself.
“Yeah, yup.” I nod. Okay, brain—in all your non-focusing glory—shut up! “You’re gonna do so well, I can feel it.”
"We are gonna do so well,” he replies with a simple grin. My heart swells.
“Okay, so back to this.” I shake out the thoughts that are riddling me beneath the surface. What if my ideas aren’t well received? How will I get back here? When?
Here and now, bitch. Here and now.
“So how this goes is... I just revealed a secret, or desire”—I flap a hand—“and my reward is a shot.”
“Hmm, seems unfair.” He scratches the facial hair coating his jawline. “You are always the one licking me.”
“Not so.” Trey gasps, hands clutching my shoulders as I scoot back, running my tongue across his abdomen, right above the waist of his jeans. “You’ve done some licking of your own. But not to worry.” I shake a dash of salt over the trail I just made. “You’ll get your shot, pun intended.” I wink.
Placing the lime between his teeth, a sexy smile, as always, on his face.
Flattening my tongue, I glide it over his skin, feeling the low growl he releases. Tipping the glass to my mouth, I down half the shot, throwing him a glance, trickling the rest over his cut and defined muscles. He sucks in a sharp breath.
My lips, my tongue connect with his skin, licking his washboard, sucking as much of the liquid as I can, actually living out my first day—or night—dream of him.
Trey groans, his pupils already blown out as I grind my body over his. Rough fingertips digging into the bare skin of my hips as I sink my teeth into the lime.
“Holy hell,” he mumbles. His cock, hard and ready, pulling taut in his pants, between my legs. Friction already building as our hips in their ever magnetized way crave the contact. “My turn.”
Grasping my things, he leans up, roughly flipping me onto my back as he straddles me. And okay, yeah. I like the rough. My eyes grow wide and my cheeks heat. “You like that?” he asks, but it’s more a question as both our heads move up and down. “Noted.”
“So, show me what ya got Moreau.” I give him a lash bat with an innocent smile.
“First, I never, ever thought I’d like the whole public or watching or—”
“Exhibitionist thing,” I finish his sentence.
He slides his bent legs further, knees almost reaching my underarms. His body, and his body ody ody, making a gradual and torturous rotation over mine.
“I wouldn’t be alright with someone seeing all of you, but we could do some under the clothes stuff.”
“Okay, so that and if I have to pick a fantasy. I guess I’d say to be surprised with head to toe super sexy lingerie I could rip off.”
Pulling my hand to my mouth, I cover my lips, fighting a laugh. He really is the sweetest thing.
“What’s wrong with that?” he questions.
“Nothing.” I shrug. “It’s just kinda stock. Like here I’m telling you I wanna do some stranger in a bar scenario and you want sexy underwear. You gotta give me a little more than that.”
“Fine. Lemme take this next level for you then,” Trey quips. Bending my arms, resting my hands underneath my wild mane, sprawled on the comforter, I await his response with raised brows.
“You licking your finger was hot.”
He holds up a hand, continuing, “How about doing the bit before that, to yourself?” My face flushes. “How about we both do it to ourselves?”
“And watch?” my voice squeaks out.
“Yup. That can be accomplished, distance and all.”
I gulp, definitely loud as Trey presses harder against my hips, his muscles tensing in his torso as I nod in agreement.
“I guess... I mean I’ve never done that, have you?”
“I jerk off like four times—”
“No.” I cut him off with a chuckle. “Like in front of each other. But I guess if we’re going all in...” My eyes search the ceiling as he lays over me. Tongue swiping over the top of each breast, shooting me a naughty glance as he leans up, wedging the glass between my curves.
His mouth covers my salted skin, licking, devouring each tiny grain, dipping my bra down, and sucking each nipple in his mouth, teeth grazing as I moan under his volcanic touch.
With his hands pressed to the mattress on either side, Trey stares up at me through a wavy strand of hair, gathering the glass in his lips. Flinging his head back, he downs the shot.
So all this goes back and forth for a while, five more shots each, to be exact. Both of us laughing, rolling around in the sticky, wet mess we created. Divulging more and more about things we want, or we think we may want.
While, yes, I’ve maybe tried some stuff, I’ve always considered myself a bit of a pillow princess in the past. Happy to lie there, happy when it’s over. But to be coming up with these acts—which have me a solid mixture of nervous and excited—is nothing I ever thought I’d be doing.
I revealed again that I’d enjoyed the shocker thing. Actually, Trey said he knew I liked when he fingered my ass, so there’s that. I love that he’s getting a little bold; it looks so good on him. Neither of us ever experiencing a back door adventure.
Well, Trey said he’d never delivered, but he was good with it. Loved the way I squirmed. Yeah, that part made me blush. He held firm that he would not, however, like to receive. Got it. Anyway, that’s something I told him I enjoyed as far as the pinky slip, but anything further hasn’t really sparked my interest.
So, after a few more ideas, outdoors, against a window, mirror, all the standard things. Or I guess they’re standard for some people? You know, the typical shit you see in movies, read in trashy romance novels. Though I won’t deny anticipating the thrills. I tell him I wouldn’t mind being thrown around... the prospect of rough sex has definitely piqued my interest over the last twenty-four hours. Especially because Trey has such a gentle hardness to him. Soft and masculine, all in the same breath.
Anyway, turns out neither of us has ventured into trying out much. And for once, maybe ever... I’m looking forward to the future.
“Okay, I can’t take it anymore,” Trey says, after our tongues explored most of the other’s upper body.
Reaching back, he unclasps my bra like it’s yesterday’s news, flinging it across the room, joining the empty bottle, lime wedges, and discarded shot glasses littered over the carpet. This mess is gonna require a major cleanup.
I slip out of my underwear as stealthy as possible—they’re new, and these scraps ain’t cheap. I know he’s about the ripping, and I don’t mind it, but come on, already dusted one pair.
Trey falls to the bed behind me. His chest pressed against my back, already slick with sweat and leftover tequila residue.
When I say this room smells like Cancun during spring break, I’m deadass.
A firm hand grips my inner thigh, fingers digging into my flesh. Snaking his other arm beneath my waist, his long reach connects with my heated center. He glides them over my—of course—already full-flowing wetness.
I swear, he’s got some sort of device or telepathy where he’s like okay, I’m comin’ in, and my vag is all Roger that... ready for takeoff.
Also, thank you for not spitting and doing the check that way. Can I cut this real fast and say that move is lazy, honestly, it’s bullshit. Seriously, prep the course. Not that I’d ever think Trey would forgo the foreplay, obviously I’m well aware he’s top of the class with all that good stuff. Some things just require extra effort.
Without a warning, he grasps my face, drawing my lips to his, our tongues melting together in a feverish dance. I cry out in his mouth as he slams his thick, hard length inside me.
Furiously stroking, my mind a bit fuzzy, yet enjoying the euphoric pleasure that accompanies the fullness of him. The angle, the igniting feeling has my jaw dropping as his passionate claims on my lips continue.
Trey holds tight around my waist, bucking mindlessly as I moan out into the room, his heavy breaths and gasps matching mine. His body, fitting perfectly, molding to me.
He grips my waist, his cock still inside my already spasming core. Flipping me over so my face is pushed against the mattress, I gasp for air—not in a smothering way, in a holy fucking hell way. My screams of insane pleasure fill the room as he thrusts me into him. Ramming repeatedly as he does that little slip that I promise elevates things. Now I know... I definitely know.
With a few more flips—I guess he took my request for being thrown around seriously—stroking my walls, hips bucking, bodies smacking, slamming together. He clutches a fistful of hair, forcing my head to the side in a way that I’m a quivering mess. He rolls over me, his pelvis rubbing with precise motion over my clit, making me see actual stars.
I clench and tighten, toes curling, feeling his slowing movements as he lowers his face to mine.
And I know... okay, I knew it before. But I am, whole-heartedly, beyond a doubt, a goner.
I wake up with a start, my cheek plastered in a sweaty mess against Briar’s naked back. I brush all the long, wild hair to the side. Laying a gentle kiss between her shoulder blades, she grumbles.
“Trey?” I hear a deep voice call out. Immediately, my somewhat dazed brain turns on. My dad? What the hell? Jumping from the bed, I throw on pants, checking my phone. Already two in the afternoon? Fuck!
“Dad?” I open the door hurriedly to be met with my father, fist raised and ready to knock. “What are you...” I glance back, taking in the room. A complete rats nest of clothes, bottles, rinds, you name it. Briar remains asleep, and I’m thankful for the blanket at least covering her ass.
My father takes a step back, his eyes wide, lips pressed tight together as I close the door behind me, joining him in the hallway.
“I’m sorry, Trey, but I called you multiple times. I needed the truck.”
I wipe the sleep from my eyes, also trying to conceal the fact that they could blow straight outta my skull.
“We were... we were up late, and time kinda got away—”
My dad, who is a super chill guy, throws up his hands, taking a few steps back.
I think we stayed up till around six am. Because after the tell all, and after, of course, mind blowing sex, we talked about stuff. Just random things, craving more and more from the other. It was the same as in New York. Neither one of us wanted to close our eyes. I think both terrified the other would disappear.
“No problem, kid.” My dad goes to clap a hand over my shoulder but refrains. “Listen, I had to pick up all the wood. The amount of tables you sent me is gonna take all our time, and the delivery came in.” I nod. “I was gonna ask you to run, but couldn’t get a hold of you. Mom dropped me off. I used the spare keys, but now I need a ride home.”
“Sure, no problem.” I run a hand through my tangled, unruly hair. “Lemme just, lemme clean up and I’ll be right...”
“Look, I get it’s a pain in the ass. But it’ll make your mother’s day if you swung by with Briar. Up to you.” I draw in a deep breath. “I’ll wait in the truck,” he says with a nod, unable to keep the budding smile from his face.
I blink a few times. Shit, that room is a mess.
Oh well, was worth it.
“Oh, and Son?” He turns on his heel, shaking his head. His hair—still similar to mine, though laced with silver and grey strands—sweeping with the motion. “You left these in the truck.” He steps towards me, placing a balled up mound of black lace in my palm. He snickers, shaking his head again, walking away.
The rest of the day goes the same way it always does. When you wish you could bottle up the minutes, seconds, they fly by three times as fast.
Briar had no problem with going to my parents, not that I thought she would. Neither one of us too hungover, thanks to a long sleep. We’d cleaned up. I threw the sheets and comforter in the wash and headed out.
We had just a few hours. My mom taking Briar into her workshop; an oversized shed in the backyard. Showing off all her art and creations she makes with stained glass. Briar, of course, hanging onto her every word, marveling in the designs.
She was happy with the stain my dad picked up, checking out his on-site garage, filled with the fresh lumber to build the tables she’d recommended.
They’re taken with Briar.
Join the club.
“So, what are we doing?” Swiping my finger, I tuck a loose hair behind her ear. Briar’s eyes snap to mine, a half-smile perking her full, pink lips.
“Well, Trey...” Slow palms drift down the front of my t-shirt. Briar in a long sleeve, winter coat tucked under her arm. “I’m getting on a plane and going home.” She maintains the grin plastered on her lips. I can tell it’s forced. I’ve learned enough in a short amount of time to know her heart is plummeting from her chest, same as mine.
“I know that.” I hold my lips to hers, trying to savor the taste, her face, the way she smells. “I mean, what’s next?”
“Hmm...” She wraps her arms around my waist, chin resting on my chest as she gazes up at me, biting down on her bottom lip. “Today’s Sunday, so next is Monday.” With a lift of her shoulder, her body trembles under the dark green of her top, tearing her eyes from mine as I pull her into me.
Briar takes a few deep breaths, letting out a whimpering sigh. I tip her chin up to meet her eyes, kissing her vigorously and with purpose, hoping I’ll leave an impression that’ll last.
“I’m certainly gonna miss your face,” she mumbles, staring up at me with wide eyes.
“Not my dick?” I laugh, but it’s not a genuine laugh, it’s forced, and it’s painful.
"Definitely that,” she replies.
“Call me when you land?”
She crosses the street, pulling the suitcase behind her to the exact doors she walked out of just two days ago.
Waving rather excessively at her, brown hair whipping along as the blur of cars and shuttle buses separates the two of us.
“Better rest that hand,” she calls out with a nod to my raised palm. “You’re gonna need it.”
I smile back at her, teeth and all, mirroring her sentiment.
And with another influx of traffic zooming through the departure area, I get one last look at her, noticing her eyes filling as she pulls her top lip into her mouth, turning to walk away.
And just like that, the entire state of Georgia is markedly smaller.
A/N: Well, that’s that. Oof. Also Holy MF’ing shiz. This is the longest chapter I’ve ever written for any story to date! But here we are.
Just for shits and gigs... how many words do you think this chapter was? I’ll give you a baseline. In ties they ranged from 1400 to the longest maybe 3200???? I couldn’t split it. Fml
I’m going away, catch my adventures on IG of the mood strikes.
Thoughts? Comments? Does your heart hurt? Bc mine kinda does 😢😢😢