Page 69 of A Song for You

The woman wearing a beige cardigan eyes her like she’s crazy.

I laugh. “Library voice, Kitten.”

Blushing, she ducks her head and snatches the book up off the floor.

The women turn to me, giving me matching awe-filled looks. “Oh, how sweet. Are you on a date at the library?”

I wrap my arm around Cat, pressing her to my front so the ladies can’t see my unbuttoned pants. “Only the best for my girlfriend,” I say proudly, shooting them a wink.

“Earl never took me to the library,” the woman wearing cat-eye glasses mutters.

Her friend retorts, “Earl couldn’t read.”

Pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose, the woman looks back at me. “She’s not wrong. Man was dumb as a doorknob.” She elbows her friend. “But he was good in the sack.”

Cat bursts out laughing, and I follow suit.

Both of our new friends just shrug. “You laugh now, but at least he’s pretty. He can get away with being lousy in the sack. Earl, not so much.”

Turning to Cat, who’s slapped a hand over her mouth to hide her laughter, I say in a louder than library voice, “You’re supposed to tell them I’m excellent in the sack.”

She bends at the waist, still covering her mouth. “Can’t,” she says, her voice muffled. She shrugs at the women. “Virgin here. Sorry, ladies.” She takes a step away from me, but I grab her hips and pull her close.

“If you make another move,” I whisper, holding her in place, “these women are going to know just how not virginal you are, you little minx.”

She laughs, the sound vibrating against my hand. “Ladies, if you don’t mind, my boyfriend and I just…um, we need a minute,” she says, nibbling her bottom lip.

They eye her, both squinting, and then it’s like they finally get it. They turn to one another, their mouths forming identical Os, before turning to me again.

“Of course. Oh, to be young again,” beige cardigan says. “We’ll be in the next aisle. Take your time.” They turn around and scurry off, snickering as they do. But I don’t miss the way they gawk at us as they round the corner, probably trying to get one last peek.

“Fuck,” I rasp, finally zipping my pants and adjusting myself. Talk about a one-eighty. One minute, I’m coming down Cat’s throat, and the next, I’m chatting with senior citizens about my future sex life. And let’s not forget about poor Earl.

Cat spins to me, her eyes as big as saucers. Then we’re both laughing. I wrap my arm around her and pull her against my chest. “No more public lessons,” I say and press a kiss to her forehead.

She nuzzles against my chest, then pulls back and grins. “At least you got off this time.”

With a look that I hope conveys my sincerity, I caress her cheek and pull her to me again. “You were perfect.”

“Got it right on the first try?” she asks proudly.

I chuckle. “Yeah, A-plus student.”

“Yesss,” she hisses in excitement.

“Now kiss me,” I say before pressing my lips to hers.

Thirty-Seven

Cat

I Got You by Jack Johnson

With the cool air nipping at my nose, I don’t even attempt to hide my smile. I’ve never been the kind of person who dreads Mondays. Especially since starting at Jolie. I love the anticipation of jumping into the projects I’ve been assigned and catching up with Sophie. But this buoyant feeling eclipses every bit of excitement I’ve felt over the last few weeks.

After the library, Jay took me shopping for clothes for the week. Normally, I’d never allow a person to spend money on me. In my experience, when money is bestowed upon me, it comes with strings. My compliance, my diet, my independence. But Jay doesn’t try to control me or make me conform to any ideals he may have. He lets me be me.

So when he dragged me down Newbury Street and into one boutique after another, I smiled and let the stylists work their magic. Then we had dinner at his apartment, listened to music, played a few rounds of gin rummy, and made out until we fell asleep. It was perfect.