Chapter 22
Sorrow
“I can’t believe he has you working Christmas Eve.”
Trace scowls. His handsome face fills my phone’s screen. I’m sitting outside on a bench beneath a tree that’s lost its leaves, waiting for Ember. She said she had a break at the same time as me and would join me.
“And working you like a dog too.” His bottom lip sticks out.
Smiling, I call him out. “You’re being overly dramatic. Eight-hour shifts are what adults normally work. Shay and Leigh have been putting in a lot of hours, so it’s my turn. Plus, I had Monday off, and guess what we did?”
“Slayed that fucking mountain with how fast and expertly we rode down it while your screams of happiness echoed for everyone to fucking hear.” He smiles.
“Aw, there it is. My guy’s happiness.”
The words are out before I can stop them. Thank goodness Trace didn’t grab on to them and throw them in my face with something like, I’m no girl’s guy. I’m keeping my options open.
After we arrived at his place from inner tubing, we changed into comfy clothes, and binge-watched a few movies.
Then we swam in the pool. Trace kissed me.
I kissed him back. I did as he advised. I locked down the feels.
Except I felt everything with our kisses.
How could I not? I’m not an unfeeling person.
Neither is Trace. But he has to be the one to decide when and who he’ll commit to.
I’ll go along for the ride. I know I’ll end up with a broken heart. I’ve caught feelings for him.
Trace isn’t a mistake.
He’ll never be a mistake.
I’ll cherish my time with him.
Falling for him, loving him so much, will help me the next time I fall and go through another broken heart.
Except, there’s no other guy I want to be with but Trace.
“Hey, doing okay?” The concern in his voice yanks me out of my depressing thoughts.
“Just thinking.”
“About what?”
“Phoebe’s theory.”
“Theory? You saw the picture, Sorrow. You two could be twins.”
“We all have doppelg?ngers.”
“Are you saying you don’t want to know for sure?”
“I haven’t decided yet.” A girl with dark hair approaches me. She has a tablet in her hand. “I have to go. Ember’s here.”
“See you at six-thirty?”
He’s picking me up at the end of my shift. “Are we going out for dinner or staying in?”
“Staying. I have something in the crock pot.”
It’s amazing how great a cook Trace is. I wouldn’t have thought it with as much food as he had delivered before our experiment.
“Thanks, Trace.”
“For what?”
“For taking care of me. The temperature, all the delicious foods, your, um, your company.”
His eyes darken. “More of the same tonight?”
He’s being respectful. He knows Ember is close.
More of the same is his hands all over my body.
He promised that his mouth would be next.
My face heats. If he can bring me to orgasm with his fingers stroking my swollen nub through my underwear, he can make me come with his mouth on my clit through my underwear, right?
Or will I strip off my bottoms and let him press his face to my pussy and lick up my slit and suck on my clit like the heroes do to my heroines?
Jesus, it’s all I’ll be thinking about until he picks me up.
“Yes,” I say, out of breath with hot need. “More of the same.”
“Good. That’s good. See you in four hours, Sweet Sorrow.”