Page 155 of Jesse's Girl

“Nothing. Fuck, Ada. Everything’s right for once.” I don’t know what to do with this feeling, this fullness in my chest.

Wet lashes blink up at me as the shower spray speckles her cheeks, and she lifts on tiptoe. When we kiss, it feels like a promise—to give this everything we’ve got.

“Hey,” she says when our lips part, “I dunno if it was adrenaline or that I was so caught up in everything or what, but your notes were, like, kinda easier to read for me…” She trails off like she isn’t sure what to make of it.

I let out a relieved breath, running my hands over her back. “Good. I was hoping it would work.”

She looks both surprised and confused. “What do you mean it?”

“Uh, well,” I say, rotating us in the shower so she doesn’t get cold. “I was reading about this font that’s supposed to be easier for dyslexic people to read, so I sort of… tried to make my writing more like that. Wasn’t sure it’d work, but…”

“You changed your handwriting so I could read it?”

“Yeah,” I say with a shrug. “I meant what I said. I’d do anything for you.”

“Jesse…” She sinks into my chest and grazes her nose against my neck, wrapping her arms tight around my ribcage. Her voice is quiet but, despite the hiss of the water, I can hear it’s heavy with emotion. “Thank you. No one’s ever done anything like that for me. No one’s ever tried to help me—to meet me where I’m at. Like it’s just what you do. No big deal. No judgment.” She moves back just enough to meet my eyes. “The onus has always been on me to cope. Or to try harder… struggle through.”

“Well, we’re a team now, okay? I’ll always help you if I can. Whether that’s finding reading hacks or having your back when your parents give you shit… or screaming into the void with you, if that’s what you need.” I lean down, brushing my nose against hers. “I love you, Ada.”

“I love you, too…” She flashes me that beautiful grin, and adds, “Garby.”

I groan. “Can’t wait to make Claire pay for that.”

“For the record,” she says, pulling me close, “I think you make excellent choices about what you put in your mouth.”

I bark a laugh, then hum my agreement against her smiling lips. “So, can I move into your bedroom now, or what? Hear me out: I was thinking you could use my room as a studio and?—”

My voice is squeezed tight when she crushes me in a hug, and I kiss her wet hair. “So, uh, I take it you like that idea?”

“I love it,” she murmurs. “I fucking love it. Yes. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

I hold her close, only letting go when I’m reminded we can’t stay in the shower all day. “Here, let’s get cleaned up.” Guiding her under the stream of water, I lift her face, angling the shower head to wet her hair. I comb my fingers through the tangled turquoise ribbons, massaging gently.

“What are you doing?”

“What do you think? Washing your hair.”

“You don’t have to do that,” she says, brushing her fingers up and down my spine. “But also please never stop,” she adds, laughing. “It feels so fucking good.”

“Good,” I rumble in her ear. My hands go still when I find a bobby pin and pull it out. With a smirk, I toss it over the top of the shower door and reach for her shampoo. I shift my hips to adjust my erection and press it against her stomach, leaning in close. “Because I think making you feel so fucking good is my kink, Buttercup.”

“Mmm,” she hums with a soft smile, slipping her hands over my hips. “I still really hate that nickname.”

“Liar,” I tease. I work the shampoo through her hair and press light kisses to her cheeks, her nose, and her jaw, then tilt her head to rinse out the lather.

Her hands skate low over my stomach. I try to keep it together when she runs a thumb down the side of my cock, though I can’t help the way my hips kick forward.

“What’s your—” I start, then clear my throat. “What’s your um… hair regime, here? Condi… conditioner?”

“Something distracting you?” she asks, feathering her fingers over my balls and back up my shaft. She bites her lip. “And yeah, conditioner, please.”

I shake my head, then when she takes me fully into her fist, I shudder, nearly fumbling the bottle.

A grin lights up her features at my reaction.

I furrow my brow in concentration as I squirt conditioner into my hand, then pause, suddenly unsure how to proceed. My hair used to be long, but I’d never bothered with conditioning it. “How do you…”

She rolls her eyes and scoops up the dollop from my palm and rubs it over both hands, then slides the slippery cream over my cock. “Like this.”

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