Soothing. Sexy. Damn near life-changing.
Yeah, this dynamic won’t be a problem for me at all. Next time I'm going to ask Violet to hold Ellis' cum in her mouth so I can sweep my tongue in there and steal a taste.
Not a problem atall.
Forty-Eight
ELLIS
We were—are—on the verge of something amazing. I'm just having a really hard time believing that when the two people we have developed feelings for are brushing us off.
For two days in a row, Violet has declined our request to hang out. I even offered to go to her apartment with food, and she flat out said no.
She did say thank you, so she must not be mad at us. But who knows what else could be wrong. Valentine’s Day was the most incredible night of our lives. She even said so herself, and now it feels like she's pulling back.
Jamie too. Neither of them have sent me and Nate much more than short, unreliable messages.
Violet leavestomorrow. Her only lengthy message to the group chat was to let us know that her deadline moved up and she has to leave a week earlier than planned.
Jamie didn't say anything in response, and judgingby their synced response time, I'm guessing they're together.
Are they talking shit about us? Have they decided they don't want us? Is Jamie leaving tomorrow with her and disappearing like Violet did the last time? Did they find out about what we did?
I'm spiraling.
"You're in love."
Glancing at Nate, I frown when I see him watching me. I've been pacing for a while and checking my phone repeatedly. "Obviously," I retort. He knows I love him.
He chuckles, but I see the worry lines around his eyes and mouth that haven't disappeared all day. "I mean, you wouldn't be this worked up if you weren't in love with them, Ellis. Jamie and Violet."
Scoffing, I go back to pacing. It feels good to do something because I'm pretty fucking useless otherwise. I still don't have a job, and we've been here for months. We may not be hurting for money, and I know I'm helpful to Nate with his business, but I'm literally doing nothing with my life besides pining over two people who clearly don't fucking want me.
"Ellis, you need to stop. Your brain is going to destroy you if you let it." Nate's voice is soft, and it grates on my nerves.
"I don't need to stop. I need them to break it off with us if that's what they want to do!"
Nate stands up from the couch and approaches me like I might bite him. His posture and tone are strong, though. "Enough. I know this is bringing up somehorrible shit, and I don't blame you. I'm worried and a bit self-conscious too, but there are many things that could be happening."
Fear twists my gut, forcing me to blurt out, "Oh my god, do you think one of them is hurt? Should we go over there? I can't believe I thought the worst again. Fuck!"
Just as I'm whirling around to grab the keys, Nate grabs my bicep and pulls me back. "El, breathe. You're losing it a little. Not everyone is used to being in constant contact with each other."
I cough with the force of my inhale, and release it shakily. "Fuck. Okay. I can’t pinpoint why I'm so anxious. We are so close to beingmore, you know?"
He nods and swallows. Our phones ping at the exact same time, and I swear to hell my heart tries to fling itself from my body.
I reread the message over and over again, trying to use logic and not be swallowed by insecurities all over again. It's not working, so I repeat the message out loud even though Nate has already read it over my shoulder.
"So she's on her period and that's why they've been distant?" It even sounds stupid coming out of my mouth. My anger flares at the excuse, and when I turn to tell Nate it's bullshit, I see a similar frown on his face. Only his looks a little more thoughtful.
Another message comes through, and I read it out loud again, ready to tear into Jamie for dodging us while using feminine shit as an excuse. But his message takes the wind out of my sails.
"He said she has severe cramping, nausea,headaches, and is exhausted. He did some research and thinks it could be dysmenorrhea, but Violet rolled her eyes and kicked him out of her room. Now he's making her dinner." I reread. "She's like really not feeling well, then..."
I'm such a fucking dick. I need to do something about the anxiety I have. Nate thinks it's a response to losing Violet when we were younger, but Jesus, I'm thirty years old, I shouldn't be reacting so immaturely.
Before either Nate or I can say a word, my phone blares with an incoming video call from Violet. I'm so quick to answer I almost hit decline. My heart is pounding, and Nate is plastered against me to fit on the screen.
