He leaned down and pulled his pants up, not bothering with the button, then turned on his heel and walked toward his room. I pressed my hands to my cheeks, feeling how flushed they were, then stood up with shaky legs, pulling up my leggings and padding to my bedroom before shutting the door.
I felt like I was closing the door on him, on us.
Maybe it was for the best, but I knew down deep in my soul that was bullshit.
23 - MARK
Holy shit.
I shut the door, dragging my spent body to the bed and sitting on the edge, resting my elbows on my knees. My body was vibrating with the intensity of the evening, and I threaded my hands behind my head, digging my fingertips into my neck to relieve the tension brewing through my body. I was wound as tight as a pocket-watch ready to spring.
My palm was red and tingling from where I’d spanked her, and damn if that wasn’t the hottest sex of my entire fucking life. I’d never felt anything as good as her bare pussy gripping me. I’d never been with someone like that before, and the thought of having anything between us after that was a moot point. Not after what we’d been through.
But what had we been through?
That was the million-dollar question. I looked over to my pillow where Phoebe was laying, already looking healthier and pissed as fuck to be back in the cone of shame.
I rubbed my face, jerking my hand away when I realized I smelled Jenna on my fingers. It was like she was seared into my skin, a piece of me.
I couldn’t stay here.
After our fight and what we shared? I shook my head and stood up.
I was lost.
My brain felt five times too big, like it was about to leak out of my ears. She was sexy wrapped in a big awkward rainbow with purple glasses and so damn sweet I’d probably have ten cavities the next time I went to the dentist. But it was all worthless because of my words to her the other night.
If there ever was a person I’d break my rule with, it’d be you, Jenna, but I can’t.
I was grasping at straws. It was better to have her think I said those horrible words about her and not my stupid fucking video game set-up than to admit otherwise. Though some dark part of me wanted to march into her bedroom and pink the rest of her ass for even thinking I’d say those awful things.
How could she think there was no connection?
What reason did you give her to think otherwise?That damn voice from earlier whispered.
My duffle bag was half open on the floor, and I picked it up, carelessly stuffing my clothes and toiletries in with reckless abandonment. Jenna’s door was closed when I opened mine, and I partially zipped the duffle, cramming it with Phoebe’s toys as I walked through the house. I grabbed my keys from a bowl on the table in the front hall, tossing the duffle in the Tahoe along with two cat beds and her food. My second trip was for the rest of Phoebe’s supplies, along with her medicine and instructions.
When I walked back in, the house looked empty and cold without the scattering of cat toys, so I took a few minutes and brought Jenna’s plants in from the back porch. The bonsai boobs went on the coffee table, and smaller topiaries went in the kitchen. I left some of the larger plants on the porch, but her place looked more like her when I was done.
Phoebe was my last trip. I grabbed my wallet and put her in her pink cat bed, making sure Jenna’s door was locked behind me. I contemplated leaving the key under the mat but felt safer taking it and dropping it in the mail or atAMCwhen Phoebe needed a follow-up. I stared at her door, willing her to open it, praying I’d see a light switch on, a blind flicker, anything.
Who knew how long I was in her driveway, but when Phoebe meowed, I leaned over and made sure she was secure, then cranked the engine and backed out.
Do what you do best. Fucking leave, Mark.
Something about Jenna’s cold, harsh words stuck with me as I pulled out of her neighborhood and onto the highway. My heart and my head were at odds with each other. My heart was screaming for me to go back, grab her and kiss her and tell her I wanted nothing more than her to be by my side, but my head was rational, not my heart.
There was a reason the right choice wasn’t easy. If it were easy, no one would ever feel pain, and everything would always be sunshine and fucking butterflies.
Phoebe slept while I was lost in the white lines on the highway, and before I knew it, I was turning into my driveway and marveling at the finished wrap-around porch, lit up with motion-activated lights as I parked in front of the garage.
Several rocking chairs were moving slowly in the late summer breeze, and Mom had been by because there were topiary plants on either side of the bottom steps and baskets with leafy vines hanging from the porch ceiling. I shut off the Tahoe and took in the completed look, my face blanching at the realization that the house looked livable from the outside.
“Come on, Baby Girl. Let’s go in,” I said, opening the door and walking around to collect Phoebe on her cat bed.
I walked up the porch steps and couldn’t help but do a lap around the house, letting out a low whistle. Even in the moonlight, I could see the porch was freshly stained, and several fans with those large low-hanging blades shaped like palm ferns were on each side, giving the place a classic southern vibe. The house had a fresh coat of paint, sticking with the green we had growing up, but deeper and matching the darker stain of the porch.
I looked out to the backyard and saw the large oak trees, sadly smiling with the realization I was home. My key slid smoothly in the lock, and I walked into the kitchen, tossing them on the island and taking in the smells of wood and paint. There was still one light switch in each room, something I insisted on, and tonight I was glad for it because I was too damn tired to text my brothers and have them walk me through the smart panels.
