I gasp but keep my eyes open, watching every second of her release.
I wipe my hand on my wadded-up shirt and wait until she opens her eyes to make a sound.
“I’ve never watched anyone titty-fuck a dildo before,” I say, awe in my tone. “It might just be my new favorite foreplay.”
“Just you wait,” she says. “I’ve been pining for you for months now. I’ve got lots of creative ways to work out the frustration.”
We talk a few more minutes and then blow each other kisses and say goodnight. By the time I end the video call, I’m happy. Satisfied. I feel complete here in Star Falls in a way I never felt back in Columbus. I’m sure of it now. I’m falling head over fucking sneakers for Gracie Bianchi.
14
GRACIE
No matterhow many times or ways I look at the calendar, there’s no changing the timing. I called my doctor the same morning I told my parents what happened.
The catch?
My test is on Tuesday. Two daysaftermy first real date with Ryder.
The karmic joke’s on me, because I can’t have sex that close to the test.
But God do I want him. Really, really want him.
I smile as I get ready for work. This is, without a doubt, the strangest relationship I’ve ever been in. But it’s also the most exciting. The most hilarious. Ryder can crack me up with a single emoji. And I know I’ve done the same for him. I’m just amazed at the way I feel. This feels real and right, even if it’s far from normal.
Once I’m dressed, I head over to the small drafting table I have in my room and look over the pages. I’ve been putting the finishing touches on a special project I’ve been working on the last few weeks.
A few weeks ago, Luke and I got into a conversation about trains. He knows a lot about them, in kind of a nerdy, adorable way. Especially for a first grader. It’s obvious his dad has either read him a lot of books or answered a lot of questions about trains, so I started looking for a train coloring book or kids’ encyclopedia on trains, but I couldn’t find anything.
I don’t normally draw technical pieces. Pistons and machinery I usually leave to my colleagues, but I’ve been practicing drawing trains so I can maybe put together a custom coloring book or something for Christmas.
I know, I know. It’s only been a few months that I’ve even known Ryder. Thinking about giving his kids holiday gifts is maybe a stretch. But these kinds of gifts take time. I’d rather practice making trains now and toss the whole ream of paper into the bin than wake up on Christmas morning wishing I’d spent the time when I could sneak a few minutes here and there.
Once I’m dressed and ready, I pass my brother Vito in the hallway.
“You leaving?” he asks.
“No, idiot. I just got home. I’m going to bed.” I smack him before he has the chance to smack me and run down the stairs.
“Real mature, Gracie,” he shouts, but he’s laughing and I’m laughing.
Brothers. They never get any better, just older.
My pops is at the dining room table with his glasses in his hand, reading. I head over to kiss him goodbye, but the look on his face stops me.
“Dad?” I say. “Everything okay?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know, bella. You tell me.” He hands me the sports section of the newspaper.
“Just tell me,” I say, anxiety starting to pool in my belly.
“That asshole,” he spits, shaking his phone in the air like he wants to toss it. “That Levi Olson kid.”
I taste bile in my throat and grimace. “What? What is it? Is he dead or something?”
“I only wish. He deserves no less for what he did to my daughter.”
“All right, Pops. Thanks, but out with it. I need to go to work.”
