Chapter 35
Vanessa
Four and a half days.
That’s how long it’s been since I said goodbye to Lorenzo and Leo at the airport.
Yes, I did the math because I’m not doing anything else other than hiding in my bed, crying my life away since I don’t have to report to work for a few more days and Destiny is away with her boyfriend until after the holidays.
My thoughts go back to the airport. As if Leo knew this wasn’t a quick goodbye, like when I ran to the grocery store, he clung to me, refusing to let go. Lorenzo had to pry him from my arms, and then he cried as they watched me walk through security.
More than once, I considered running back to them.
Going home and quitting school.
Who needs a degree anyway?
But I knew I couldn’t do that.
I not only need my degree, but I want it. I’ve worked too hard to get this far, only to throw it all away for a man—even if the man is someone I love.
I turn my cheap wedding band around on my ring finger.
Lorenzo never brought up getting the annulment, and I didn’t either.
I probably should’ve since it would’ve been better to cut all ties, but I couldn’t do it. That last string binding us is all I have left of our time together.
My phone goes off with a text, and I scramble to see if it’s Lorenzo.
He called me after I arrived to make sure I got home okay.
Then again that first night so I could say good night to Leo, but I had to hang up, not wanting to cry on the phone with them.
Seeing Leo over the phone and not being able to hold him was too hard.
And I’ve been avoiding his calls ever since.
I feel like I’m in limbo—my body is in Seattle, but my heart is in Harbor Point.
Kora
Change of plans. We’re leaving in the morning. Driver will pick you up at five a.m.
I sigh in relief, thankful for the distraction.
Vanessa
See you tomorrow.
As I’m hitting Send, my phone rings with a video call from Lorenzo, and I consider ignoring it, but then I look at the time and see it’s nine o’clock here, which means it’s midnight where he is, and he’s probably calling to wish me a happy New Year.
So, I take several calming breaths, fix my hair quickly so I look a little less of a mess, plaster a fake smile on my face, and then click Accept.
“Happy New Year!” I exclaim, internally cringing at how fake I sound.
“Hey,” Lorenzo says. “Happy New Year.”
I was expecting him to be at a party of some sort, but the room is dark, and I can make out his headboard behind his head.
He’s home. Just like me.
And from the look on his face, he’s not doing much better than I am.
“It’s going to get easier, right?” I blurt out, tears blurring my vision. “Because this fucking sucks. My heart … it hurts, Lorenzo.”
I tried to hold it in, but seeing him crumbles the wall I’ve been trying to build by not answering his calls.
“I don’t know,” he admits, always honest with me. “I’ve never experienced this before.”
“How’s Leo?”
“He’s good. Sleeping. He tried to make it to midnight, but”—he shrugs—“he’s not much of a partier.”
I choke out a laugh. “Like father, like son.”
“I was thinking,” he says at the same time I say, “I’m leaving for LA in the morning.”
“Oh, you are?” he asks. “I thought that wasn’t for a couple more days?”
“Kora needs to leave early. What were you going to say?”
“What?”
“You said you were thinking …”
“Oh, nothing.” He shakes his head. “I hope you have a good time in LA. Are you ready for your classes?”
“Yeah. I need to pick up my books when I get back, but there isn’t anything I need to do before classes start.”
“Good. What time are you leaving?”
“Five,” I groan.
Lorenzo smiles softly. “Then you’d better get to sleep. I know how cranky you are when you don’t get your eight hours of sleep.”
“Yeah.” I chuckle. “But I’m having trouble sleeping.”
You’d think I’d be tired since I’m used to the time zone in Florida, but it’s almost like I’m overtired.
“Can you stay on the phone with me for a few minutes?” I ask, not ready to hang up.
Now that we’re on the phone and I’m able to see his face, I don’t want the call to end. It will suck once we hang up, but for now, I just want to pretend like we’re in the same bed, lying together instead of on the phone and three time zones away from each other.
“Wild Card,” Lorenzo murmurs, “I can stay on the phone with you for however long you want.”
He shuffles in his bed, most likely to get comfortable, and I do the same, propping the phone up next to me.
When he situates himself, the blanket slides down, exposing his bare chest, and I sigh in frustration, wishing I were there with him. How a hard chest can make such a comfy pillow, I don’t know, but it does.
“What’s going through that beautiful head of yours?” he asks, lifting his arm behind his head.
“I miss your bed,” I admit.
He quirks a brow, and I roll my eyes.
“Not just your bed … I miss you.”
A smile spreads across his face, and even in the dark, I can see his blue eyes twinkle with happiness.
“I miss you too. I can still smell your scent on my pillows. Paula tried to wash the sheets, and I told her not to.”
“You’re such a creeper,” I say, even though, deep down, I love that he did that. It makes me feel better, knowing I’m not the only one affected by our distance.
“I jacked off to the picture of you naked and flipping me off.”
He waggles his brows, and I glare daggers at him.
“I hate you,” I mutter.
“You said I could,” he argues.
“Not that you used my photo,” I clarify. “I hate that you were able to get off.”
I tried yesterday, thinking maybe an orgasm would help calm me the way it did when Lorenzo made me come, but after several minutes, I accepted that it wasn’t happening. My head just wasn’t in it.
“If I were there, I’d get you off too,” Lorenzo murmurs, his tone smooth as silk. “But since I can’t be there, pretend I am.”
“I can’t pretend you’re here,” I sigh.
“If I were there, what would I be doing right now?”
“You’d be lying with me in bed.” As hard as it is to think about something that isn’t true, the moment the words leave my lips, it feels good to pretend.
“You’d be kissing me, running your tongue down my neck.
” I close my eyes, imagining Lorenzo’s lips sliding along my flesh. God, I miss him so much.
“I love how soft your skin is,” he says, as if he can hear my thoughts. “If I were there, I’d take off all your clothes and lay you out on the bed so I could kiss every inch of you. Take your clothes off, baby. Show me what I would be kissing if I were there.”
I pull my tank over my head and slide my underwear down my legs, and Lorenzo groans, pleased with what he sees.
“Fuck, you have the prettiest, perkiest tits. Pinch your nipples just how you like.”
I turn to the side so he can see everything I’m doing, and then I pinch my nipple. It feels good. But it’s not the same as when he does it.
“If I were there, I’d suck on those pink nipples and get them nice and hard.”
He shuffles, his hand disappearing, and I imagine he’s stroking his hard length.
“I wish you were here,” I mutter.
“I am. I’m right there with you. Licking your nipples and sticking my fingers in your wet pussy.”
I run my fingers down to my pussy and spread my legs, finding that I’m wet. I push a finger and then two into my center, and a moan escapes as I hit the spot that Lorenzo taught me feels good.
“That’s it, baby. Find your clit and massage it just like I do.”
I move the pad of my finger to the swollen nub and rub, but it doesn’t feel anything like when Lorenzo does it.
“Gently,” he says, as if he can see what I’m doing. “Using your juices, gently stroke your clit.”
I take a calming breath and then gently rub my clit, and this time, sparks begin to surface. I keep doing it as Lorenzo tells me everything that he would do to me if he were here, and within minutes, I’m coming around my fingers.
For a moment, with my eyes closed, I’m able to pretend he’s here, but then I open my eyes, and he’s on the phone. My heart sinks because he’s not here. He’s nowhere near me, and while I love talking to him and seeing him, it’s also making it harder.
“I need to clean up,” I choke out, suddenly needing to get off the phone.
“You okay?” he asks, his features etched with concern.
“Yeah, I just … thank you. That felt good. But I … I need to clean up and get some sleep.”
He opens his mouth to say something, but I cut him off, unable to hear it, “Good night, Lorenzo.”
I hang up, and instead of cleaning up, I nestle my face into my pillow and cry harder than I’ve ever cried as I come to the realization that we can’t continue like this—one foot in and one out. We have to go all in or let each other go.
And with that sobering thought, I cry myself to sleep, wondering how the hell I’m going to let Lorenzo go.