her a condo? That way we can have a place.
“Fuck off, Ryder.”
I stroke her flushed checks. “You okay?”
Her eyes swim with tears. “That was indescribable. We were one. Did you feel us together? As if we were connected?”
I grin and kiss her tears away. “It’s just the weed, baby.”
“Wait.” She reaches for my face with both hands and looks into my eyes. “You didn’t feel it?”
I should lie.
“I felt it. I touched your soul, and now it’s mine.” I pick her up and carry her to my bed, turn off the lights, and pull her relaxed body into my arms.
She remains silent although I can feel the dampness of her tears on my chest. I close my eyes and let the weed and exhaustion take over.
Rolling over, I blink at the morning light spilling into my room. My head feels like I slept for days, yet from the slight overcast of the morning I bet it’s 5:00 maybe 6:00 a.m. Jesus, I slept, and it was deep and dream free.
My arms tighten on Antoinette’s as she groans and buries her nose in my neck. She seems to like doing this and it calms her. I rub my forehead with my other hand. That was some crazy shit that Rip came up with. Seeing into each other’s souls should definitely trigger sales. It’s like ecstasy without the hangover.
She sighs again and rolls to her back. Her small firm breasts and hard red nipples make my morning hard-on throb. I sit up and make my way to the bathroom. When I look at myself in the mirror, I notice scratch marks on my back and a few on my chest.
Smiling, I replay last night. I remember everything, which I’m not sure is a good thing. I step into the shower for a quick rinse off and keep thinking… about her. Us. I should be bored, but I’m not. I should be wanting my space back, yet I’m thinking of buying us a condo.
She’s in my blood—I crave her. Christ, when she came last night, those eyes showed me everything, all of her. And she gave me everything. Her pussy pulsed and dripped her juices onto my cock. Her addictive fucking smell filled my senses.
She’s everything I’ve never wanted and everything I need.
Tossing my towel into the hamper, I brush my teeth and run my hands through my wet hair.
I walk over to the bed and gaze down at her. She’s stunning.
My eyes focus on her small breasts. They rise and fall while she sleeps peacefully. Her skin, which used to have a spray tan, is pale now and her long, firm legs are like silk. Every single bit of her is delicate and graceful. As I lean down for my cigarettes, her vanilla-citrus scent invades me.
It’s probably been over a year since the words have come to me, moved me enough to put them down on paper. Yet I hear them. I grab a pen and my hand shakes slightly with the need to get those words out. Sitting, I write them down and finish in under half an hour.
I make my way back to where she sleeps and gaze down at her. My brain memorizes everything about her down to the beauty mark that put a spell on me the first time I saw her. Turning from her, I know exactly what to do.
I pull on some jeans. The sun is rising. It must be earlier than I thought. The play area looks ready for the party. Eve must have had Dewey get all kinds of kids’ balloons yesterday.
The Avengers, Star Wars, and Peppa Pig are floating around the grass. Lighting up my cigarette, I take that first inhale and exhale.
My emotions are raw.
But I seem to have a muse who demands to be worshipped if the song I just wrote is any indication. Setting it on the table next to me, I watch the sun as it filters in.
“Fuck it.” I grab my phone and take a picture of the three pages of my song, then text it to the one person I haven’t talked to in two years. My fingers hesitate before I send it. Though we haven’t talked for so long, maybe it’s time to let the past go.
I don’t want credit. But I know you’re the only one who can do this justice.
Sighing, I press send and rub my neck. Glancing around my room, I take it all in and it hits me. It’s our room now.