9. Kris
9
KRIS
It’s four in the morning, and I’m supposed to be picking Kam up at eight.
It’s a two hour drive between us, and then a long one to Gatlinburg for the weekend.
And what am I doing?
I’m in the gym, working out all my frustrations.
My family, the idea of being stuck in a room with Kameron for the entire weekend even though I chose that… You name it, and I’m thinking about it with every rep I take today.
Normally, a good workout would exhaust me enough to help me get a good night’s rest, but when I’m in a mood like today, this workout will at least bring me down a few notches to make the trip a little less torture for me.
I’m not dreading going with Kameron, I think the two of us could have a good time if she’d let go of the past a little, but the thought of having to have awkward conversations with both of my parents, and pretend like we have everything together in front of the guests and Ruby’s family… that isn’t sitting well with me.
After an hour of burning myself out, I pick up my phone and check the time. By the time I get home, shower, finish packing, and have everything ready for the dog sitter it’ll be time to load the car and head toward Birchwood.
I shove everything back in my duffel bag, except the water bottle and towel. Running the towel over my forehead, I move it to the back of my neck before twisting the top off and downing the rest of my water.
It’s usually packed in here at this time, making it hard to get to some machines you’re planning on using, but today is fairly low-key. My eyes scan the gym and find a group of girls giggling on the treadmills.
I shake my head, sweat slinging off my falling hair. There’s always a group of women that come in, dressed in designer athletic wear, and spend their hour on the treadmill talking with their friends and taking selfies.
I can’t stand them.
All they do is hog machines for their instagram pictures and prolong my day and everyone else who is trying to get in and do their thing and get out.
Now here me out, I’m all for people getting healthy and developing a good routine, but not at the cost of making others struggle.
I tip my head at them as I pass, and hear their whispers kick up again. My eyes roll, making the guy at the front desk laugh as I press the release button to open the door to outside.
Tossing my bag into the backseat, I climb into the cab and head home. Once I’ve parked, I head inside to start doing the rest of my shit.
A quick glance at my stove, and I’m running out of time. I have less than thirty minutes to get everything together and out the door if I want to make it on time.
It’s not like being a little late would matter, I have no plans tonight other than hanging with Kameron in our room. And I doubt she really wants to do that, so the longer it takes for me to get to her, she’ll probably be more than happy.
While the shower water warms up, I strip out of my sweaty gym clothes and toss them in the dirty clothes basket by the door. They’ll be ripe by the time I get back, but I don’t have time to start a load of laundry and finish it before I leave.
Stepping under the hot water, I let it cascade down my back, soothing my aching muscles. I reach for my shampoo, lathering a good portion into my hair. My eyes fix on my body wash, the emerald green bottle making me think of what I told Kameron the last time I saw her.
We’ve barely spoken this week, and I didn’t push it too much since we were about to be stuck together for four days.
I rinse the soap from my hair before grabbing the green bottle and pouring some into my hands. My mind races with what Kameron will wear for the wedding, and really the entire trip.
There was no lie told when I said I wanted her to wear emerald this weekend. She looks fucking amazing in green, paired with her red hair. Breathtaking.
Will she wear an emerald dress like I told her to?
What will it mean if she does?
What will she be sleeping in?
Will I get a glimpse of it?
My hand runs across my stomach, going lower until my fingers wrap around my cock. I squeeze once, thinking of Kameron in an emerald dress with her hair swept to one side, exposing her long neck for me. The way my lips would so easily have access to her neck, where I could make her wiggle against me like all those years ago.
Heat pools in my lower stomach as my hand begins to move up and down my shaft. My forehead falls against the tiled shower wall, the cool surface does nothing to calm the heat racing through my body right now.
I picture Kameron’s lips parting when I touch her, feeling her come to life in my hands as I stroke my dick to the thought.
When I think of her laid out on my bed this weekend, legs spread wide as she waits for me to crawl over her perfect body, I come undone.
Thank God I live in a house with neighbors that aren’t that close and not in an apartment complex because they’d all hear her name fall from my lips right now.
It takes me several minutes to compose myself enough to finish my shower, and now the green bottle makes me smile.
By the time I roll past the welcome sign outside of Birchwood, I’m only fifteen minutes behind. And I can’t even be mad about it because I feel refreshed after jacking off to thoughts of Kameron in the shower.
I drive past the fire station and roll my eyes when I see that tool, Damon, standing outside talking to some woman who’s nearly falling over laughing at whatever the jackass is saying.
Kameron is sitting on her front porch when I pull into her driveway, her suitcase next to her along with a backpack and a grocery sack. Cora’s car is gone, so I’m assuming she’s already left for work.
Shifting the truck in park, I climb out and make my way to the porch to help her.
“Sorry I’m late,” I tell her as she pushes her suitcase toward me.
I laugh slightly, Kameron is usually a very strong, independent woman, but in this moment, she so willingly accepts my help.
“It’s fine. Let’s get this over with.” Her tone is anything but being fine like she says.
“Look, I’m sorry I was late. I couldn’t sleep so I hit the gym this morning, and I lost track of time.”
She looks over her shoulder at me when she gets to the front of my truck. She looks at me. Really looks at me, and I have to force a blank mask over my face so she doesn’t see why I’ve lost track of time, or why this trip has me so damn anxious.
Luckily for me, she doesn’t say anything else and climbs in while I put her stuff in the back seat. When I climb in, she has a Prime energy drink sitting in the cupholder that I always designate to be the driver’s, something we used to jokingly argue about during our relationship.
Or maybe it was a real argument, I don’t know. We fought about everything back then, and in my defense, as the driver, it does matter where your drink is.
Comfortability is key.
“I hope you still drink these.” She points to the drink before pulling a Coke Zero from the bag and sitting it beside the Prime.
“I do.” I nod, shifting the truck into reverse and pulling out onto her street. “And I see you still drink that nasty shit.”
She narrows her eyes at me, and I chuckle. Anything with zero sugar tastes like shit to me, and she knows it.
“They taste better than regular coke.” She tries to reason, but she doesn’t push it too far, knowing I could argue about this all day.
By the time we hit interstate forty, we’ve been riding in a comfortable silence. No music, no talking, just the GPS telling us which way to go.
Once I’ve set the cruise control, I pickup my phone and open the Amazon Music app and begin playing one of Phix’s new songs. He reminds me of Machine Gun Kelly and Eminem mixed together. Some of his songs are bangers while others I’ll skip each time they come on.
But Bonnie and Clyde just hits different.
“Taylor Swift, please,” Kam says, turning in her seat to face me. “I’ll give you all my beef jerky.”
I flick my eyes in her direction, but quickly back to the road as I weave through Jackson traffic.
“Depends…” I trail off. “What do you have?”
“All your favorites.” She smiles, like she’s already winning this.
“Aw, you still think about me even when buying beef jerky,” I tease.
“I do not.” She rolls her eyes, and fuck me when she does it…
“What if my favorites have changed?”
“Peppered or garlic and onion?” She smiles triumphantly.
My face falls, damn. I know she’s got me, and she knows it too.
Peppered is hands down the best, but garlic and onion is no match. We went on a spring break trip to Gulf Shores once, and the jerky shack hooked me on garlic and onion seasoning on their jerky.
So. Damn. Good.
“Okay, fine.” I hold my hand out for the jerky bag.
She digs through her bag, grabbing it and ripping the top off before handing it to me. Her smile is infectious until she reaches over for my phone, that’s sitting between my legs.
Her fingertips graze against my dick, causing both of us to look at each other. Her green eyes widen at the touch, and she yanks her hand back quickly, dropping my phone in the process.
“Sorry,” she says, looking down between us. I sit the jerky down, and grab my phone, handing it to her without the chance of any dick rubbage this time.
A few seconds later, Taylor Swift’s new album is playing. We ride in silence, listening to the lyrics of the song while I stuff my face with jerky and try really damn hard not to think about her fingers on me.
The Alchemy is a good song. I’m not the biggest Taylor Swift fan, but listening to the lyrics kind of reminds me of Kameron and I in college together.
I listen as Kameron sings along, word for word. She’s always been a Swiftie, and you can’t say a single bad thing about Taylor or she goes feral.
“Hey,” I say, getting her attention as the song slowly fades to an end. “Thanks for doing this for me.”
“I don’t know why you needed me, but it’s truly the least I could do considering you’re helping me out in a major way,” she tells me.
“We never really talked about it when we were together, but my parents and I don’t have a good relationship.”
“They’re divorced, right?” She frowns, trying to remember our conversations from college.
“Yeah, they divorced a long time ago, and our lives were hell growing up because of it.” I shake my head. “The drama, the struggles with money, it was a lot.” My defensive side comes up. “You wouldn’t understand, your family was perfect.”
“Hey,” she snaps at me. “Don’t do that.”
I just stare at her for a brief moment before looking back at the road.
“Don’t turn into a dick when I’m asking questions about a weekend you’re using me as a buffer for.”
My eyes squeeze shut for a moment before I look over at her. “I’m sorry, you’re right.”
This drive is already telling me I’m going to ruin the entire weekend for everyone.