I just want you to know that Blue is a good snuggler. He doesn’t take up too much space in the bed, and he doesn’t fight with Rocky for my cuddles.
And not to mention her frustration with the vibrator.
That setting is mean. It’s not even worth using! Not that I’m going to use it. It’s going to get buried at the bottom of my drawers. I’m not even going to take it out of the packaging.
We both know how that turned out.
But the one thing I’m puzzled about is that she kept swapping between two names for me.
Hudson.
And Viper.
She has only ever saidViperonce in my presence, but I’d been sure I hadn’t heard it correctly. I thought it had been a part of her incoherent mumblings during her orgasm in the fitting room during her shopping spree on our first weekend together. I’d always meant to ask her about it but had forgotten until I read it in her journal.
Am I Viper?
She also references Daddy, Hunter, and Angel.
Daddy is clearly Derek.
I would have said Angel was Xavier, but the more I’ve read about them, I’m sure he is her Hunter.
So, that leaves Angel for Darcy. I have a feeling she is probably imagining a dark, fallen angel, rather than a pure-white-halo-wearing one. Not that Xavier fits that part, either.
But it was one of her latest entries that tore me apart at the seams and left my blood pooling on the floor.
Sometimes I wish I could time travel. I always thought that if I could, I would go back to the night of the car accident that took my parents and throw a tantrum or pretend to be so sick we couldn’t go to wherever it was we were going that night.
But lately, I’ve been thinking, I’d go back to our weekend together and I’d find a way to tell you I’m a student. Find a way to have a conversation with you all and to come up with a plan together, so we all knew that the last time we kissed goodbye in the apartment wouldn’t be the last time we chose each other.
I wish there was a way to tell her we choose her every goddamn day. I want to tell her she is ours and we know we fucked it all up, however unintentional. But with how well she is blocking us from gaining any access to her whatsoever, I’m not sure I will ever get a chance to talk to her again.
Unless I can find another way to communicate with her.
Glancing down at my lap, I stare at the beautiful engravings in the cover and trace my finger over the grooves of the design.
Maybe…maybe our communication doesn’t need to be verbal.
A buzzing fills my chest as I reach for the chain of the lamp on the side table beside me and give it a tug to turn it on. Light floods the corner of my living room. Standing up, I go to the kitchen, turning on more lights, find a pen, and then stride over to my dining room table before taking my usual chair.
I open the journal to her last entry, then I turn the page and hope I am making the right decision.
Kitten,
Thank you so much for sharing your journal with me. I feel like I have learned so much about you, so I thought it was only right that I teach you about me.
I’m 35 years old, and the second youngest of our little group. I have a younger sister who works in the city, and my parents are married and retired in Florida. I used to be a financial manager, making the rich richer, until I decided that I wanted to be a part of educating the next wave of financial experts.
I continue to write until I have filled up four whole pages, only pausing when I need to decide how to end my note to her. The pen hovers just over the page for several seconds before I make my decision.
Yours,
Viper.
Chapter 71
Emery
