I’m living somewhere that increasingly feels like home in a way I’ve never experienced. I’m on a roll with my writing, feeling like the successful completion of my book is in sight. I’m part of a friend group I enjoy spending time with, where I feel like I can be myself and be appreciated for it. And a hot hockey player is giving me regular orgasms.
A hot hockey player who, more and more, I’m …
Good thing I have this phone call to keep me from finishing that thought.
“I’ve been thinking a lot,” she continues, “and I realize that I need to apologize.”
Okay. That’s unexpected.
“Apologize?” I repeat.
“Right. Your father and I … I think we were wrong.”
This raises my guard a tad. My mother admitting that she and Dad were … wrong? About anything? I’m almost worried she’s about to drop news of a terrible medical diagnosis on me that’s spurred some kind of existential reevaluation of her life.
I’m lost for words, so it’s my mom who speaks next.
“When I saw you when we had dinner with you and that boy …” at the reference to Jamie, my heart does a twirl in my chest, “It was so clear he was good for you. So clear that he treats you right.”
My stomach swoops. Is that how Jamie and I look together? Even when it was a fake date, even when we’d only kissed once?
I’m still silent on my end, taking in my mom’s unexpected words.
“Ever since then, I’ve been coming to this realization,” she says. “If your decision to go to Cedar Shade and try writing led to you finding that, well, maybe it really was the right decision for you.”
I don’t even know what to say.
“Thanks, Mom,” is all I come up with. A strange pinch of uncertainty comes with the words, though. After all, what she had that reaction to, what caused her to reevaluate everything… it was all fake. All a lie.
Or was it?
Jamie
Are you home yet?
My chest whirlsat the thought of Jamie wanting to come over. Lately, I’ve gotten good at not trying to analyze such feelings.
Walking home now, a couple minutes away
Get on your bed and keep your door unlocked
Excitement winds low in my core. I like it when Jamie’s bolder side rears its head. What does he have in mind? I think I’d rather let him show me than have him answer me, so I keep my response simple.
Okay
Tension skates up and down my spine as I wait for him, on my mattress.
Should I get undressed? Put on something sexy? I don’t own any sexy outfits, though. Besides, he just told me to get on my bed, he didn’t add any specifics. I’ll just follow his instructions.
My stomach swoops at that thought, muscles tugging at the peak of my thighs. Getting excited about … following a man’s instructions? The me of just a few weeks ago would kick the me of right now in the shins. But I can’t ignore the thrill that simmers through my bloodstream.
I hear my door opening. My heartbeat rumbles up my throat.
Jamie’s steps are slow, torturously drawing out the tiny distance to the doorjamb of my room that I’m impatiently waiting for him to fill. With every thud of his footfalls against my carpeted floor, the thrum of anticipation between my legs notches higher.
Heat spills through me when his broad shoulders finally fill the width of my doorframe. He leans casually to one side against the wood casing. An arrogant look swims in his green eyes.
“You listened. Good girl.”
