“I am going to apply for student loans, scholarships, all of it,” I tell her. “Until we figure out if we’re moving to New York—or an apartment across town—we’ll be here for Elowyn. But we can’t put our life or our future on hold. I’m not doing that to us.”
Ingrid smiles. “I’d do it if that’s what you needed.”
“I know,” I sigh. “But that’s not what I need right now.”
I just need her.
She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. “Wanna fool around?”
“Shower or bed?” I suggest with a flash of my eyebrows.
“Both?” Ingrid teases.
We grab our bags and head up the front walk. I glance around, searching for any sign that life in the Winthrop house is… well, dramatic.
No screaming. No yelling. Nothing.
The front door creaks open and Ingrid exhales. “Don’t you think it’s weird how every house has a smell, but the people who live in it can’t smell it?”
I chuckle. “I’ve never thought of that, but yes, it is weird.”
“My house smells like pears,” Ingrid says.
“I thought you said the people who live in the house can’t smell—”
“I can,” she insists. “It smells like home.”
“Speaking of home,” I say. “Where is everyone?”
“Working,” Ingrid says simply.
I shrug and set our bags by the front door.
Then, I follow Ingrid up the stairs. When we reach her closed bedroom door, she leans against it and wraps her arms around my neck.
“Thank you for another great summer,” she whispers.
“We still have—”
But I don’t finish.
She pushes up onto her toes and kisses me, her mouth wet and warm.
I melt into her, needing her more than I realize.
She kisses me harder, her lips molding to mine as I reach for the doorknob.
I turn, but it’s locked.
“The door,” I mumble between kisses.
Ingrid breaks the kiss and pulls a key out of her back pocket.
Before she unlocks the door, her hand slides down the front of my shirt, then over jeans. She smiles as she wraps her hand around my hard dick straining against the thick fabric.
“I can’t wait to be alone with you,” she coos. “Without interruption.”
She unlocks the door and pushes it open.
