Hell yes!
I thrust in and out of her as she moans in my ear. Soft, quiet, only-for-us moans. Moans that I think about most nights when she's three doors down and I'm stuck with Cash.
I live for the sounds she makes just for me.
“Faster,” Ingrid pants as she holds onto me tighter. “Faster, Wilder.”
I keep up the pace, kissing her neck as I drive myself into her. When she finally comes undone, I follow seconds later.
She keeps holding onto me, her grip tightening as I wrap my arms around her and gently set her on the ground.
“I can't do this,” she whispers.
“Can't do what?” I begin panicking. I panic a lot these days. Every time I think she's going to walk away from me or end this, I panic.
CashfuckingAllred is part of the problem. Half the time, he makes everything worse. He says the stupidest shit at the most inconvenient times. He won’t let it go. Not with her.
“Can't do what?” I repeat.
“I can't deal with Isla,” she answers. “I can't do this again. Not for another summer. What am I going to do, Wilder?”
“We'll figure it out,” I promise her with a sigh of relief. “We'll find a way to deal with this.”
“Let's run away,” she mutters as she raises her head and presses her forehead to mine. “Just you and me.”
“I wish we could,” I smile, “but you promised Loretta you'd work this summer.”
“I did, didn't I?” She breathes hard.
“I love you,” I say in the quiet space between us.
“I love you, too,” she replies without missing a beat.
I breathe easy for now, but I'm scared. I'm terrified that she's going to stop loving me one day just like my dad did.
Parental abandonment leaves a hole nothing really fills.
Ingrid isn’t him. She never makes me feel the way he did.
I need to stop worrying. It's been a year. She's not going anywhere.
Ingrid lays her hand over my heart, her eyes big and searching.
“What?” I whisper.
“Your heart is beating so fast,” she replies.
“It always does that when you're near me.”
“What would I do without you, Wilder?”
I shake my head. “You'll never have to find out.”
She kisses me before opening the closet door to let the light in and begins searching for an outfit.
I watch as she gets dressed, braids her hair, and puts on mascara. I could watch her all day if she'd let me.
“Admit it,” she smirks as she grabs her purse. “You're obsessed with me, too.”
