"You like it."
"That's part of the problem," she answers, echoing me.
And god help us, but it's true.
CHAPTER 25
THAT HAND FLEX FEELING
MOLLY
Ihave been a floaty cotton candy puff trailing glitter behind me ever since he said he'd spend the night on Saturday, then proceeded to bless me with a string of orgasms. We played salmonella roulette and ate cold pizza at midnight, then tumbled back into bed. Sunday, the world felt brand new. Because grumpy, restrained Grey all but disappeared.
The rare gift of his laughter came easy, that twisted up restraint in him finally easing, . Finally letting him go, for a moment at least.
All he needed was permission.
I can't help but wonder if he'd give me his heart, if he'd just give himself permission to. But when the thought crops up, I brush it away. Saying goodbye Sunday night was a special sort of torture. And despite being exhausted, I barely slept at all, hating how empty my bed was.
The week was a million years long, but it’s finally Friday. My phone has been busy with messages from Grey, all inside jokes and new jokes and a little bit of dirty stuff that left me flatouthungryby the time school let out, ----and my stomach had nothing to do with it. He rushed over after practice, kissed me into bed for a little while, then we wolfed a bowl of chili. Which brings us to now.
Thanks to my last-ditch effort to keep him from leaving, I'm pinned to the front door by Grey's hips and lips, both of which are very busy, despite the ticking clock. We have a teacher's league game in an hour, and like a fool, I made plans.
To be fair, the plans were initiated by Carlin, and they were made prior to my blissed-out weekend. I do miss my friend though, and I know it'll be good to see him, butdamnit's hard to let Grey go.
When he pulls away, I chase his mouth, but he only chuckles and thumbs my swollen lips.
"I've gotta go, Peaches."
I make a needy sound and am met with no resistance when I pull him back to me for another string of kisses.
"Carlin will be here any minute," he warns between kisses, his fingers in my hair, thumb stroking my jaw until he backs away for good.
I pout, sighing dramatically, which amuses him enough to press his lips to mine one last time. It does something hot and tingly to me when he lingers. It's like a promise.
With a sigh, I move away from the door--he takes my hand as he opens it, letting me out first. But when I pass the threshold, our fingers slide apart, our time over.
I've never felt so petulant as I do letting go of his hand.
He shuts the door before Scout can escape, then trots down the stairs. I watch him the whole way, leaning against a post at the top of the stairs, admiring the way he moves, every. step strong and certain. I know how capable he is, and so does he, but his confidence is tempered by that damnable restraint that keeps him from…well, I'm actually not sure what, but I definitely wantto know. One of these days, I'll see him free to do as he wants. He deserves that more than anyone I've ever known, I think.
"See you at the game, Peaches," he says, climbing into his truck with that smirk on his face.
One little look, and I'm flushed and smiling as I wave. "See you there."
Why's it even hot how he slings his arm on the back of the seat when he backs out of the driveway? It's ridiculous, what he does to me. I love it.
My phone rings in my pocket just as he disappears down the street, and the tone tells me it's a video call. Which tells me it's one or both of my parents. Mom, I see when it's in my hand. I sit on the top step as I answer, Mom's happy face lighting up my screen.
"Hey, Mama," I say with a smile. "What are you doin'?
"Hey, honey! Nothing, what are you up to?"
"Oh, not much," I answer but my cheeks warm. "Carlin's coming over here in a minute to hang out before the softball game tonight."
Her smile evaporates. "I hate that you're playing, I really do. You've already gotten a concussion! What if you, I don't know…break something? Get another concussion? It worries me."
I chuckle. "I know it does. That was a fluke, I swear. Don't worry about me. I took care of myself through the concussion."Kinda. "What do we say, Mama?"
