Chapter 21 #2
My eyes snap to my favorite part of my shower—the shower head.
This particular one has so many different massage options.
I hesitate, knowing this could make me late to girls’ night, forcing me to deal with the girls and their twenty-one questions.
Be a good girl and come for me, Dove. How are those words still so clear, as if he’s here saying them to me now?
I don’t think too long about it and take the imagined permission to unlatch the shower head from the connector and pull it lower, lower, lower to my aching clit.
Lifting my leg to the shower seat in the corner, I turn the nozzle to the pulsating setting, my favorite, and feel the circular motions of the water swirl around my sensitive bud.
“Fuck,” I groan.
The pulse and swirling motions makes my breathing come out in short huffs.
I race my free hand up my body and grip my breast. “Dios Mio. Clint, please.” Moaning his name sounds like a song my body has been waiting to sing, his eyes and dimpled smile shine bright behind my closed eyes.
I Imagine him watching me, having sat himself down close enough to touch me.
I imagine watching him stroke his dick through the golf shorts that show off his toned thighs.
Another moan falls from my lips as my skin grows hotter.
I increase the sensor on the side to heighten the water pressure which sends me over the edge in the most blissful orgasm I’ve experienced in such a long time.
The delicious numbness extends to my fingers and toes.
Switching to the rain feature, on wobbly legs I reach up and place the shower head in its home.
With my last bit of strength, I plop down on the shower seat to catch my breath.
“Best. Fucking. Purchase. Ever,” I exclaim, popping a crab rangoon in my mouth. “And all of you are getting one for Valentine’s Day.”
Brianna and Cassidy snicker before taking bites of their food.
When Janelle told us she wouldn't be able to make our video call tonight, it put a damper on the evening. We love her, and the dynamic feels off when she isn’t here.
If she hadn't begged us to continue on without her, we probably would have rain checked the entire night.
Tonight we are at Cassidy’s place. Jameson went out to play pool with Anders and get some guy time in while the three of us feast on takeout like nobody’s business.
“So I got some really good news earlier today, and I’ve been waiting for us to get together before I say anything.” Brianna’s body almost vibrates with excitement.
“Spill. It,” Cass urges her.
“Oh, hell yeah! What is it?” I ask as I shake her knee with my hand.
“One of my art pieces is going to be auctioned at the Night Market and”—she exaggerates the last word, keeping both of us on our toes—“the exhibit asked me to make three custom pieces for the gallery they’re putting together for next year.
I cannot fucking wait. I’m going to keep myself anonymous.
I don’t think I want my face out there just yet.
Plus, doesn't it leave a little mystery to it? Maybe make people want it more.”
“Holy shit! B, that’s fantastic news.” My excitement bubbles over. “And listen, if you want to remain anonymous, then do it but not because you are hiding. Your art is stunning and anyone can see that.”
“Which is why it is going to be auctioned!” Cassidy adds in her thoughts just as I finish off my sentence.
“It’s scary as hell, but I can’t wait. I’m excited to really start putting myself out there. It’s time for my art to see more than my studio and Cassidy’s living room walls.”
I stuff a few more pieces of chicken in my mouth and listen intently to Brianna as she shares this amazing win.
Hell, I don’t even know when the showcase is, but this is huge.
I’ve seen Brianna locked away working on her art, and it seems like it’s both healing and draining for her.
As if each piece takes away something from her and pours into her in equal measures.
She seems most happy amidst the chaos of creating something new.
“So what’s been going on with Golf Daddy?” My head snaps up to Cassidy.
“I hate I told you that.” I laugh, or I attempt to with a full mouth of lo mein. “I kissed him.”
Their mouths drop open, and they blink wildly as if I have grown a second head. Instead of giving my attention to Brianna and Cassidy, I focus on the noodles in my bowl. They both settle into their spots, giving me time to get myself together and wait for me, knowing I have more to say.
“You what?” Brianna stumbles over the two words. “When did this happen?”
“A few weeks ago,” I say sheepishly.
“A few weeks ago,” they shout in unison.
I set my chopsticks in my bowl and set it on the coffee table. “We ran into each other at Midnight Miso.”
“Uh, that place is so fucking good,” Cassidy says, picking up more noodles between her chopsticks. “Don’t get sidetracked. Keep going.”
“You remember that gorgeous woman we saw in the bar?” I turn to B as she nods her head. “I thought she was his wife. She’s not, but when I saw her walk in when we were sitting cozily together, I thought this was the end for me, and Cass would become Waffles’s mom.”
“Girl!” Cassidy belts out a laugh at my antics.
“I couldn’t sleep after our last girls’ night and went out for comfort food. I wasn’t expecting him to be there. He ended up joining me, we got talking about our past, and one thing led to another and, well…I kissed him.”
Brianna leans in. “How was it?”
“So fucking good,” I gush, unable to hold back my desire for him any longer. “He ended up pushing me away after he kissed me back.”
“Wait a minute, he pushed you away?”
“Not physically. He said that when I’m really ready for a forever with him that he would basically be waiting for me.”
“Are you?” B asks.
“Am I what? Ready?” B nods, and I answer truthfully. “I want to be.”
When she purses her lips, I say, “Okay, let me try that again. I don’t want to get my heart broken, or worse, break his again when he realizes mine doesn't work.”
“You know that isn't true, Lo,” Brianna speaks to me in a soft tone as if I’m a wounded animal who could strike at any moment.
“But it’s simpler this way. I don’t know.
I’m figuring it out. Kind of. What I do know is, he won’t let me near him with a ten-foot pole unless I’m ready to take the potential of a future seriously, and it hurts to be without him.
I also know how badly I hurt him. It’s my own fault.
Why the fuck does my heart hurt already?
I thought falling in love, if that’s what this is, was supposed to feel good. ”
“Who the hell told you that?” Jameson’s deep voice fills the room as he closes the front door right as I’m spewing my guts out to the girls.
Instead of shooing him off, I turn around and face him and think about how this has always been my interpretation of things.
But now that truth of being in love with the right person has been something I’ve been mulling over since talking with Danny and my mom.
Jameson questioning my line of thinking feels like another nail being pulled out of the coffin I’m stowing my heart away in.
“Who would want to go through this if it hurts so much?” I ask him, seeing how his and Cassidy’s relationship is, especially how it’s blossomed since reconnecting.
Now that he’s moved in with her—I’m not complaining—their love for one another is clear as day.
I can feel and see affection and devotion in them both.
“Someone who knows when the person is worth fighting for will do whatever needs to be done to be with their person. Even if it means getting hurt.” His eyes glance over to my best friend, and for a moment jealousy rises up in me.
I don't know if I will ever be able to have their kind of connection. “It doesn't always hurt, Paloma, but you are hurting, so opening yourself up to love is going to suck for as long as you let it, which I know is easier said than done, but when you’re ready, it won’t hurt anymore. At least, not like this.”
Jameson gives my shoulder a firm squeeze.
The gesture somehow provides comfort while also soliciting a pang in my gut because I know he’s right.
Since Jameson and Cassidy have become serious, he’s become the big brother I never had.
He’s offered us both sound advice on how we plan to expand the apartment into an event space once they find a house to make their home.
And every now and then, Jameson is in the room watching a show while us girls take over the rest of the house.
Because of the friendship we’ve built, his thoughts only add to the conversations I’ve been having with the girls, my mom, and Danny. I’m thankful for him.
I know he’s right, but it’s not just my heart at risk. Clinton’s is too.
Instead of letting fear take over, a warmth fills in my chest. The only way to know if I’m ready is to try. This time without the constraints of what-ifs or the possibility of something going wrong. No, instead I’m focused on all the things that could go right, and I want to start with him.