God, Austen, put a shirt on. This isn’t the locker room.
But for some reason, today, it feels like I’m finallyseeingmyself, and I don’t hate what I see.
I smirk, heading for my dresser to pull out a fresh pair of underwear. The thought runs through me that, technically, I don’t need to get dressed. I don’t have any calls scheduled today, and most of my workload is administrative.
But lounging about in my underwear all day feels a little too dangerous for me, so I decide to at least throw on a pair of grey sweatpants and grab my phone, slipping it into my pocket as I head into the kitchen to make breakfast. When I finally sit down with my freshly cooked egg-white omelet and coffee, I hear the chime of a text.
Flight sucked. Turbulence was a bitch.
Before I can tap out a response, another text comes in.
Plus there was a kid kicking my seat the whole way home.
I smirk, imagining an irritated Cam trying not to lose his cool.
At least you made it in one piece.
The little dots start and stop a couple times, before he responds.
I’m not so sure.
The smile that spreads across my face is irrefutable.
He’d told me he’d text me in a few days, so the last thing I expected was to get a text from him the next morning.
But I’m happy I did.
My instinct is to keep the conversation going, but I don’t want to push my luck.
I send him a gif of a skeleton falling off a chair and he responds with an eye-rolling emoji almost immediately.
Warmth spreads within my chest, because I’ve missed this so much.
I’ve missedhimso fucking much. My best friend.
We might not get back to best friend status ever again, but just having the opportunity to be in his life… it’s enough.
My heart slows at that thought, because I know it’s a lie. Just being in his life won’t be enough, but it willhaveto be.
Because I can’t ask for more than what Cam is willing to give me.
I don’t deserve it. Hell knows I don’t deserve a lick of forgiveness for the way I treated him. But I want it. I want his forgiveness, his friendship. I want…
My cock twitches, clearly because it has a mind of its own. I absentmindedly adjust myself, irritated because I just came in the damn shower, and last night…
I don’t think I’ve masturbated this much in the span of twenty-four hours since I was in high school. Good lord.
“Yeah, I know what you want, but you aren’t getting it,” I say to myself, knowing no one can hear me.
I take a glance at the clock, noting I need to get a move on if I want to get a head start on work and planning out my itinerary for the trip. Plus, I still need to pack.
I don’t want to end this conversation either, but I can’t sit here and text Cam all day, even if I want to.
Heading into work. Talk later?
I watch as the bubbles appear and disappear at least three times.
Sure.
