85. Lolly
eighty-five
Lolly
Our breaths begin to slow as I rest my forehead on his back, fingers still wrapped in his. The smell of sex heavy on the air and my god is it refreshing.
I’m so sensitive that every breath he takes sends shivers up my spine, but I don’t want to leave his warmth.
“Fuck, green eyes. That was…” I don’t bother trying to finish my sentence. I just smile and drag kisses across his back as he trembles beneath me.
“Yeah,” he answers. “It was.”
I laugh against his skin, shaking us both. “We’re going to have to move at some point,” I say.
“No thanks,” he sighs. “You stay right where you are. I’ll order in,” he adds.
“Did I fuck you hungry?” I tease, “We just ate not too long ago.”
“Did we?” He asks, voice still staggered by his breathing.
“We did,” I laugh as I slowly pull out of him.
“I wasn’t ready,” he groans in protest.
“You don’t have to move,” I assure him as I head to the kitchen to find a towel.
I clean myself off quickly then tend to him, still naked and leaning against the wall. I gently wipe the mess from between his legs and then clear the cum from the wall.
“That was a masterpiece,” he whines, “I worked hard on it,” he adds.
“Next time I’ll snap a photo first,” I say grinning.
I duck under his arm and slowly pull him to a standing position. “Can you walk?” I ask him.
“Normally, yes. But I can’t feel my legs,” he says as he leans into me.
“Come here, Princess. I’ll carry you.”
He looks up at me through long lashes, “You can’t be serious,” he scowls.
I scoop his legs out from underneath him before he can argue.
“Lolly, oh my god, put me down!” He squeaks.
I laugh, shaking my head as I carry him to the couch. “There you go,” I tease.
His cheeks redden as he pulls the throw blanket up to his abdomen and then fidgets with the fringed edges.
I put my briefs back on and hand him his before lifting his legs and taking a seat at the other end of the couch, resting his feet across my knees.
I pull a tuft of his leg hair and he yelps.
“Hey! What was that for?”
I chuckle, “Just making sure you’re still awake,” I reply as I run my hands up and down both legs absentmindedly.
“I’m awake,” he says with a yawn. “Do you have to leave?”
“Do you want me to stay?” I watch his ears redden, unable to stop my hands from moving across his skin as I wait.
“Yes,” he replies with a shy smile. “I want you to stay.”
I can’t help but smile back at him—unwilling to fight it anymore. “Do you have some pants I can borrow?”
“Yeah, I have some pink ones you’d look great in,” he says with a grin.
“Careful, you see me in pink and you might want me to stay longer than one night.”
His eyes widen and for a second I’m worried I’ve scared him, but then he laughs. A high-pitched chuckle followed by a snort that sends me over the edge.
“Oh my god, you just fucking snorted,” I laugh.
“I can’t—” he starts before another fit of laughter takes him. “I love how ridiculous you are,” he says with a smile. “Do you have pink wings too?”
“No,” I admit, “just the black ones.” I drag my bottom lip between my teeth, “But I do have a few pairs of purple underwear,” I grin. “One with lace,” I add with a wink.
His gentle laughter stops and his mouth opens like he’s going to answer me but he just stares.
“Are you glitching?” I ask with a faux look of concern on my face.
“N-no,” he swallows thickly. “I was just hoping you were telling the truth.”
“Three pairs.”
“Holy fuck,” he whispers.
“Let me guess, your underwear drawer is all black, isn’t it?” I say with a light squeeze of his ankle.
He rolls his eyes. “I have a pair of dark grey briefs, thank you very much,” he says with a huff.
“That’s adventurous as fuck, Bailey. I’m proud of you,” I tease.
“Fuck you,” he says with a gentle kick to my thigh.
I grab his socked foot and start massaging it.
“Oh fuck,” he groans. “I’ve never let anyone touch my feet before but holy shit that feels good.”
“Why not?”
“Feet are gross and the thought of anyone touching mine makes me want to puke,” he exhales and his eyes roll back. “Apparently, there are exceptions to the rule, and between you and clean socks it might be the best thing ever,” he sighs with a smile.
“How’s your family?” I ask as I continue his massage, surprised he’s let me touch his feet at all.
“Dad’s been great. Mom has helped him make major lifestyle and dietary changes since his heart attack and I think he’s healthier than I am at this point,” he laughs.
“Good to hear,” I admit. “Liam seems to be doing fairly well,” I add. “I know it’s been hard on both of you, but I’m glad you’ve had each other.”
“Yeah,” he sighs, “me too.” He pauses for a while before continuing, “I do think he’s happier now. He and I seem to have our meltdowns at different times so we’ve been able to kind of hold each other together when the other is falling apart.”
“Good. You deserve a friend like that,” I say. It’s true. Liam reminds me of Jay in that way. Steadfast and loyal to a fault.
We talk more about Liam. About Jay, and Jinx, and the tattoo shop. I love the way his eyes dance when he talks about his favorite video games. The way the left side of his mouth turns up when he’s fighting a smile.
It’s so comfortable with him. Almost as if we picked up right where we left off.
“How’s your mom?” He says quietly, eyes soft with concern.
“She’s…” my voice trails off as I gather my thoughts. “She’s not doing well,” I admit. “She has more bad days than good ones. Corina is pretty much full-time now, but even with the two of us and the safety system, it’s difficult.”
He grabs my hand in his and looks up at me, “Lolly, I’m so sorry.”
“Me too,” I say honestly. “It’s so fucking painful to watch the life drain out of her and not be able to stop it.”
He squeezes my hand but just sits in silence, giving me space to think.
To feel. “Some days, she doesn’t recognize me—and if she does, it’s fleeting,” I explain.
“It’s, um,” I pause, “it’s heartbreaking, Bailey.
” I blink back tears as I meet his gaze again.
Those beautiful green pools full of understanding send a strange sense of comfort to my chest.
“It’s crazy to try and hold onto something as fleeting as lucidity,” I add. “I love her, who she is now, but it’s a muted version of her brilliant mind and spirit. It’s as if her presence holds an absence,” I say, quieter now.
“What you’ve done for her is incredible, Lolly. Keeping her at home and loving her every single day is the most selfless, beautiful gift you could ever give her,” he says. “I’m so fucking proud of you.”
His words wrap around me—tendrils of comforting warmth I didn’t know I needed. A lump forms in my throat and I try to swallow it down but then the tears come, and before I can stop them, they’re pouring down my face. Years of fear, of pain, and loss overwhelm me as I sob.
I instinctively bring my hands to my face, leaning into myself as I let the grief flow. I hear him move on the couch, pulling his legs off of my lap.
His weight rocks me gently and I feel him behind me, his warmth on my back as he wraps me in his arms, legs on either side of mine, pressing the sweetest kisses to the back of my neck as he holds me while I fall apart.
I take in a few breaths. Then, safe in his arms, I decide to let it all out.
“I miss her, Bailey. I miss her laugh, I miss hearing her complain about the way I stack the dishes,” I admit.
“And the worst part is that she would be here if she could. She would have stayed but she was never given the choice,” I say through tears.
“Everything she fucking is has been rearranged and drained of color and life, and it’s not fucking fair,” I cry.
“I know. I know it’s not,” he says gently, his arms tightening around me. “I’ve got you,” he says against my neck. “I’m not going anywhere.”