“Makes me feel like the luckiest girl,” she said seriously with heavy lidded doe eyes.
That was enough to make me feel secure.
I leaned down and kissed her neck. I felt her knees go weak and she let out a tiny gasp. She was totally wasted and easily turned on. She probably had no clue what that gasp did to me.
The rest of the club faded away, and it felt like it was just the two of us on that floor.
I rarely woke up before her, but I loved waking up with her in my arms. Her tiny body drowning in my clothes used as Pjs. Absolutely loved it. Her face was laying on my chest and our legs were tangled together- her leg looking tiny inside the two of mine, her one arm tucked in close to my chest and the other looped around my body. Her boobs were pressed into my body and I was trying hard not to get a full-on boner while she was sleeping.
I tried to move her a bit without waking her up; she’d fallen asleep with her head on my arm and I was starting to lose feeling of it.
I felt her shiver a little and I promptly pulled the blankets up on her. I was always a furnace when I slept but I knew she was always freezing, we made a good pair like that. She always complained when I left the window open at night and she’d pull me on top of her as a blanket, I’d laugh and comply every time.
When we were young, I’d leave the window open as an excuse for her to pull me close. I’m not sure if she ever caught on to that.
I sniffed her hair. It smelled the same lavender smell I loved, it just looked so different.
Something was going on in that head of hers. I smoothed her now platinum hair that only grazed the top of her shoulders out onto the pillow. It wasn’t a big deal, I loved her, not her hair, but I kind of hoped she would change it back soon. I just felt like it wasn’t her.
Last night had been the craziest I’d ever seen her get. She’d 100 percent be hungover today. She’d been building up to that, drinking more than usual the past couple weekends.
Jules was usually very even-keeled and open with me. She didn’t do shots or dress slutty… or end the night with drunk crying like she had been lately. Not only was it bad that she was drunk crying, but she kept telling me nothing was wrong. Like bullshit. It just wasn’t her. I liked her without all that makeup, in my pjs, and when she actually communicated with me. I probably should’ve dug deeper last weekend so I would’ve had a heads up about the sudden hair change.
I went to Paige after last weekend and asked her what the hell was up with my girlfriend, but Paige scolded me about that kind of thinking and told me I was being selfish. I was afraid she was going to slap me. She told me she supposed Jules was just feeling pressure and wanted to feel “liberated.” She’d just graduated and she had a semester and summer to herself before she had to get a “big girl job.” This was her time to be free and not be judged by anyone, especially not me.
That made me a little nervous though. Free of what? Free of me? I couldn’t lose her. That just wasn’t an option.
She stirred a little then.
“How’s my little booze bag doing,” I asked her quietly.
She covered my mouth and gave a pained laugh with her eyes still closed.
“I’m sorry,” she said, with her hand still covering my mouth.
I licked her hand and she squirmed.
“Don’t be sorry, we had fun last night,” I told her, wrapping her up and kissing her forehead. But I did want to ask her if everything was alright and why she felt the need to suddenly have a wild streak and be dancing with the crazy-ass girlfriends of the team. She usually stayed tucked close to me at the bar getting happy tipsy, not trashed.
“I wish I could see inside that pretty head of yours,” I said looking down at her.
“It’s dumb and blonde now, why would you want to do that?” She responded kind of bitterly.
“Hey, don’t say that,” I adjusted myself to lay on my side facing her and gave her a confused look. “Is something wrong?”
She looked beautiful as she lay there with a slight pout on her face. She put a hand up and felt my beard like she was studying it and I just waited for her to talk. We’d been dating so long now that I considered myself an expert in understanding her, but lately something was off. I found that if I gave her silence, she’d eventually fill it.
She sighed a couple of times before almost starting to speak and then she’d cut herself off, which was just worrying me even more.
“Are you upset with me?” I asked her suddenly.
“Not at all,” she quickly replied, laying her hand on my chest. It felt comforting. She had no idea how tight it felt as she was sitting there sighing.
“Nothing else matters then, babe,” I used my thumb to smooth the smattering of freckles under her eye. I loved when she didn’t have makeup on and I could see them.
“Never shave again,” She relaxed into a smile. “I love your beard.”
Truth be told I was just getting a little lazier with shaving. It itched but I didn't mind her extra attraction to me. She played with it and it felt nice.
