Chapter Twenty-Nine Lily
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Lily
“Oh, come on, just one.”
“I feel stupid.”
I sighed. “What if I send you one first?”
The silence on the other end of the phone went thick, only the sound of his deep breathing for a few seconds, until his roughened voice filled my ear.
“What kind?”
“I guess you’ll see.”
“Sort of naughty or really naughty?”
“You tell me.”
“Fuck, Lily.”
I turned my face into my pillow and grinned. The power of Barrett King could not be underestimated. Two words and he gave me butterflies.
“Really naughty, then,” I said breezily. “Hold please.”
I was ready for this, which he should have anticipated.
Once I’d opened my camera roll, I chose the picture I’d snapped earlier when I was trying on my new bikini, a black strappy thing I’d picked up after I got to Florida.
Before I’d tied the top on, I remembered that I had a boyfriend and he was across the fucking country.
On a whim, I’d grabbed my phone and arranged my hair, all solid black now that I’d trimmed the last few inches off.
I was kneeling on the floor, facing away from the mirror, my naked back and the high cut of the bikini bottom on my hips visible as I took the picture over my shoulder.
My free hand sat demurely in my lap. It was in the reflection of the second mirror across the room that the shadowy glimpse of my breasts were clear.
I clicked send, biting down on my bottom lip while I waited for it to go through.
“Holy fucking hell, Lily,” he groaned. “Come back. Come back right now.”
My cheeks flushed with pleasant heat as I snuggled into the bed. “See? I told you long distance would be sexy.”
“It’s been five days,” he ground out. “I don’t think we can state that with any certainty yet.”
“You owe me a picture, sir.”
“I will never be able to top that, and if you think I’m taking a dick pic, you’re about to be disappointed.”
I laughed. “Before I go to sleep, you owe me something good.”
“I’ll send you a picture of my bed. It misses you too.”
My chest was tight and wonderfully achy. Being missed was a novelty that I found myself liking. A lot, actually.
“I’ll just watch that video I took on Valentine’s Day,” I sighed. “That should tide me over.”
“Deviant.”
I grinned. “What was I supposed to do? You were just standing there, shirtless, cleaning the kitchen after ravaging me on the counter. I needed it to keep me warm on all these cold, lonely nights.”
“The counter needed cleaning after the mess you made.”
“Whose fault was that? I’ve never had that happen before.”
“Mine,” he answered, so smugly that I laughed out loud.
“Deviant,” I teased.
He sighed. “That’s your fantasy, huh? Me cleaning the counters?”
“After that performance? Yeah. It deserved to be immortalized. I’m pretty sure I blacked out.”
Barrett made that little humming noise, and my eyes fluttered shut.
I missed him. I missed him so much that it was causing me physical pain. That was novel too. The newness of it coiled around my stomach—not an entirely unpleasant sensation.
“I miss you.”
The way he plucked the thoughts straight from my head, feeling things exactly as I felt them.
We’d had a blissful month together in Buffalo before I had to leave. He took me on dates—real, grown-up, romantic dates. Being wooed was an absolute delight.
Kisses by the front door when he walked me home at night.
Sweet good morning texts waiting for me when I woke up.
Dirty ones when he was at the office longer than he wanted to be.
He’d come home from work with bouquets of bright, cheery flowers. One for me, one for Maggie.
He took me and the kids on fun, interesting outings on the weekends. Legit family shit that didn’t even feel scary anymore.
Go me, right?
I started getting to know the people at the front offices in Buffalo because we had standing lunch dates on Tuesdays and Thursdays, where I brought takeout to his office.
Once—and only once—I got him to screw me up against the wall where no one could see us, his hand over my mouth so I wouldn’t make all those porny sex noises that he was exceptionally skilled at yanking out of me.
I swear, if I wasn’t experiencing the sex myself, I’d have thought I was faking it too.
At the end of the month, the temptation to say fuck it to Florida was huge.
But I’d made a commitment, and it was important to honor those.
Or at least, that was the bullshit I’d told the kids when they asked why I still had to leave.
Sometimes it had to be okay to cancel, right?
Especially for hot, amazing boyfriends and their cute children who’d stolen my heart with equal force.
But in my gut, I’d known it was the right thing to do. Even though it was awful and heartbreaking and really, exceptionally shitty.
Missing him was important. Missing the kids too.
We talked every day, something he’d promised me when I left. Even if it was only for five minutes, he wouldn’t let the day end without hearing my voice, he said.
This was the kind of pain that stretched my heart in incredible ways, and even though we were only five days in, I was proud of myself. I hadn’t felt that in a really long time.
“I miss you too,” I whispered.
Barrett: Maggie got suspended today.
Me: Omg who do I have to fight?
Barrett: Easy, turbo.
Barrett: She told a friend she figured out there’s a way to hack the site where the teachers input the grades.
Me: Good God. She changed her grade??
Barrett: Oh no, she genuinely has straight As. She just wanted to see if she could do it.
Me: Ahh. And what’s the punishment at home?
Barrett: Nothing. We just had a talk about integrity at school, and not bragging to friends when you figure out illegal things, especially when you have no intention of doing them.
Me: I love it when you talk about ethical shit. It’s so teachery and hot. Will you put on the glasses and do a FaceTime with me?
Barrett: I knew you had a thing for those glasses.
Me: They’re acceptable. Wear them the next time I see you, please.
Barrett: I saw you two weeks ago, why didn’t you ask then?
Me: I was too busy trying to figure out how to ravage you without your kids hearing. Why are the walls so thin in this house? It’s dumb.
Barrett: Maybe I’ll leave them home next time.
Me: I don’t know, I like them more than I like you.
Barrett: That so?
Me: You’re all right.
Barrett: I miss you too.
Me: So fucking much. That’s dumb too. Sometimes I feel like I’ll die from it.
Barrett: You won’t. It’ll just make the next time that much better.
Me: Promise?
Barrett: Promise. You want me to call you before you go to bed?
Me: Yes. What do you want to talk about tonight?
Barrett: Will you tell me another story about when you were younger?
Me: Yeah. I can do that.
“It’s impossible, Lily,” Maggie sighed. “I don’t know if I can manage these on my own.”
“Nonsense. You’ve mastered everything we’ve tried so far.”
“Macarons are way harder, though.” She adjusted the camera where she’d set it on the counter. “Can you see now?”
“Yup.” I held up my own silicon baking sheet. “See the size of mine? Try piping your circles a little bit bigger.”
Maggie tucked her tongue between her teeth, brow furrowed in concentration as she did as I instructed. We’d mastered the art of FaceTime baking sessions pretty damn well.
Barrett’s head popped into the background, his eyes locking onto mine as he sent me a devastating smile. “Am I allowed to say hi yet?”
“No,” Maggie yelled. “It’s my turn with her.”
I blew him a kiss. “Later,” I promised.
He winked. Just a tiny one. Not a big douchey one. That gave me butterflies too.
Maggie got batter on her hand and, in an unthinking motion, wiped it over her shirt, then groaned. “See? I told you I need an apron.”
“We’ll find you the perfect one,” I promised.
Barrett reappeared with a washcloth, helping her get the mess off her shirt. Maggie’s face was thoughtful when she picked up the piping bag again, pausing as it hovered over the baking sheet. “Remember when you told me about your mom’s lucky apron?”
A gentle pang swept through my chest, and I let myself breathe through it as I nodded. “Yeah. It’s in a box somewhere. It was pretty. She’d embroidered little flowers on it, and it had scalloped edges along the bottom.”
Maggie pursed her lips, giving me a shy look. “Do you remember what color it was?”
I met Barrett’s eyes in the camera, and the quiet support I saw in his face made it so much easier to answer than I’d thought.
“Yellow.”
Me: I feel like such an ass.
Barrett: You can’t help that you’re sick. No one’s mad at you for not being here.
Me: I’m missing your brother’s wedding! I wanted to see you in a suit. It does things to me.
Barrett: How about I skip the wedding and come feed you soup? I’ll bring the suit for when you’re feeling better.
Me: Tempting, but no. You cannot miss this. Plus, I’m all snotty and shivery. I’m not cute when I have a fever.
Barrett: You’re always cute.
Me: You are the only person who’s ever said those words to me in my entire life. Puppies are cute. Bunnies are cute.
Barrett: Fine. You’re always scary hot. Better?
Me: Scary about sums it up. I miss you. I wish I could’ve seen you this weekend.
Barrett: I miss you too. We’ll get something figured out once I get through the draft.
Me: Promise?
Barrett: I promise.
“This is so stupid. Who thought we should do long distance? Not fucking me.”
Pouting was not a good look—definitely not on me—but there I was, pouting like an absolute champ.
“How long has it been?”
“Almost three months. How the hell am I supposed to last three more?” I wailed.
“I meant, how long since he was supposed to call you?”
“Oh. He was supposed to call an hour ago,” I said glumly.