and slightly raised. Hair doesn’t grow there anymore, of course, but the beard always did a fine job hiding it.
Now it’s out in the open bright as day, its ruddiness like an invitation for the rest of the world to stare.
“I like your scar,” Aidy says. It’s the first time she’s mentioned it since I shaved.
“What?” I squint, holding my palm over it.
“It gives you this edge. Makes you look badass,” she says. “Because without it, you’re kind of a pretty boy. No offense. But you’re really, really good looking, and, like, you’re still hot with the scar, don’t get me wrong, but it just gives you a little something extra.”
“Thanks.”
“Look, I deal with people every single day who have physical insecurities,” she says. “There’s not one person in this world who loves every single feature on their face, and if they do, it’s probably because they’re some genetically modified Frankenbeauty from the plastic surgery capital of the world.”
Chuffing, I pull up a bar stool and take a seat.
“People find all kinds of things to hate about themselves. Big noses. Eyes that are too close together. Eyes that are too far apart. Flat chins. Big foreheads. No cheekbones. Too much cheekbone. Too short. Too tall. Straight hair. Wavy hair. Curly hair. The list goes on.” Aidy rolls her eyes, sighing. “People don’t realize, if you love yourself and accept yourself for who you are, all those insecurities eventually fade away.”
“Says the makeup artist who can make them go away.”
“Makeup isn’t supposed to hide,” I say. “It’s supposed to accentuate. Anyway, you made me go off on a tangent. Thanks a lot. Back to your scar.”
I blow a hard breath past my lips. “All right. What about it?”
“You’re hot, but the scar makes you even hotter,” she says. “Walk around and own that scar. Screw the past. Screw the accident that stole your career. Screw whatever the hell that scar reminds you of.”
Her head tilts, and her lips take on a curious smile.
“And then what?” I scoff. “Screw you instead?”
There’s an endless second that lingers between us, one where I can feel the steady thrum of my pulse and the slow crawl of heat along the back of my neck. Our eyes lock.
“Yeah,” she says.
I kick the bar stool out from under me and go to her, not wasting a single second. Hoisting her on the counter, my hands circle her waist and my mouth claims hers.
God, I’ve missed this.
I’ve missed her.
Her fingers run through my hair and her tongue grazes mine. In seconds, I’m hard as a rock, desperately counting the minutes until I can bury myself in her and my past behind me. When I’m with her, I don’t think about anything but her.
She’s the cure for everything that’s ailed me this last year. And maybe she’s a Band-Aid or a quick fix. Maybe the cure isn’t permanent. But I kind of hope it is, because Aidy’s brought nothing but sunlight into my life since the day we met.
Scratch that.
Since the day after we met.
“Do you have Netflix?” Aidy asks, wrapping a sofa blanket around her naked body.
I’m spent, cock still throbbing and pulsing and eyes still fixated on her naked body as she stands before me, the remote in her left hand.
“I do,” I say.
“Want to binge watch something?” she asks, rattling off a bunch of show options. “There’s this new one out. It’s like an old Western but it’s scary. It’s like ghosts in the old West. It sounds insane, but I keep hearing about it, and I feel like I’m the only one who hasn’t seen it. Have you seen it?”
“No.”
“Want to watch a couple episodes?” Her brows lift and she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. The blanket falls, exposing a hint of her pert, pink nipples. I could fuck her again. And again. And again. But I’m still sore from last weekend, and my shoulder is still aching. I made her ride me tonight. Made her do all the work for once. It was nice, sitting back, watching her round C-cups bounce as she moaned, breathless, her skin hot, hair sticking to her neck as she threw her head back.
“Sure.” I grab the other remote, the one that controls Netflix, and set up the show.
Aidy trails off to the kitchen, grabbing us a couple waters, the blanket dragging behind her.
“I have an appointment in three hours,” she says. “We can watch a couple shows and then I have to go.”
There’s a sinking feeling