“You’re gonna have to explain, Princess.”
“I can’t explain.” And I couldn’t, at least not without sounding like a fool.
See, I’d never thought I’d have this in my life. I always thought I’d be alone. I was happy with that. I liked being alone, as long as Nick was next door and Boo felt talkative (which was all the time).
What if this worked for us? I got used to taking bubble baths in Vance’s cabin. Boo lying on the end of his bed like he’d lived there his whole kitty life. Vance crashing at my place and using my shower and making us dinner.
What if I eventually had clothes here, doubled up on the toiletries, litter box and kitty bowls so I didn’t have to cart them back and forth?
What if Vance’s jeans hung in my closet and I had to shift my nightgowns so he could have space for his t-shirts?
What if I got used to that, what if I liked it then it was all swept away?
My cute pug was chewing on my fingers, baby-dog teething.
Did pugs go bad?
I started to breathe heavily and I realized I was close to hyperventilating.
Shit!
“For f**k’s sake,” Vance muttered. He’d been staring at me the whole time I was processing and obviously lost patience.
He put down his book and hauled me across the bed and into his arms, right on top of him.
Even though this was a loving gesture and the words he next spoke were in a tone that was both sweet and tender, a tone I’d never heard him use before and I liked it a lot, the actual words were not loving, sweet or tender.
“Girl, it’s a good thing you’re so f**kin’ beautiful or you’d be a serious pain in the ass.”
I rested my forearms on his chest and my head snapped up to look at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m thinkin’ you didn’t get it. When you still your body, you also got to still your mind.”
“What if you can’t?”
“You can.”
“What if you can’t?”
“You can.”
I made a “huh” noise in the back of my throat.
Vance burst out laughing.
Well then.
Whatever.
I slid off him but he kept an arm around my waist, holding me to his side. I held my body tense, deciding to hold a grudge even as I rested my cheek on his shoulder.
He picked up his book and continued reading.
I decided tomorrow I was going to break up with him and I started to enumerate the reasons for doing so in my mind. He was too good-looking. I’d have to keep my head crackin’ mamma jamma skills honed to beat off all the bitches who wanted a piece of him. He was too arrogant, lying there, not paying any attention to my negative-body-language grudge (regardless of my cheek on his shoulder and my arm which had snaked around his waist) and reading like he didn’t have a care in the world. He told me what to do all the time, in macho-speak no less, and in front of other people.
While I was mentally enumerating, his fingers pulled up my nightie, his hand slid inside my panties over the cheek of my ass, to come to rest flat against my hip.
That felt nice.