Page 56 of On the Line

It’s gearing up to be a busy Friday, the books are full and my prep list is a mile long. I have at least three hours left before the restaurant opens, but my anxiety levels are at an all-time high and I’m on my second cup of coffee since I clocked in an hour ago.

Doesn’t help that I was already on edge when I walked into this fucking kitchen.

After I left James’ place Tuesday morning, Sophia texted to tell me Charlie was caught stealing other kids' snack money at the public pool, and he’s now banned for the rest of the summer.

There goes free day camp.

I can’t have Soph be responsible for him for the next month until school starts again, and I obviously can’t depend on our piece of shit dad, so I’ve been spending most of my free time at the house, keeping an eye on him.

James hasn’t worked since Sunday, which means I haven’t seen her in four days and I’m about to jump out of my fucking skin.

Four days … that should be nothing.

I’ve never craved someone this bad. Thank fuck, she has a shift tonight or I would’ve shown up on my hands and knees at her doorstep. Spending the whole day with her on Monday was perfect, except for the resulting void it created from not having her around.

That was especially jarring.

We’ve been texting. But it’s just not the same. Not when being with her in person is like listening to your all-time favorite song on repeat.

Speak of the devil, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I fish it out hoping it’s James, even if I’ll be seeing her in a couple of hours. My stomach flips when I read her name on the screen. Swiping my phone open, I realize it’s a video that she’s sent me, followed by a text that says:

Do not watch around other people!!

My attention zeroes in on the video’s thumbnail.

Holy fucking shit.

Slamming my phone screen down on the cutting board in front of me, my head falls backward as I close my eyes. I mutter a half-crazed prayer of gratitude while I swivel my head around, making sure no one in the kitchen is peeking over my shoulder.

I promptly head for the back door.

“I’m going for a smoke,” I yell out to no one in particular, speed-walking and eyes down. Near the dumpster, I uncurl the death grip I have on my phone and pull up James’ video, making sure the volume is almost all the way down. I should have grabbed my fucking headphones from my bag.

It starts with her smiling at the camera while she placesit down, centering her bed in the background. Her pink hair is down, framing her perfect face, blue eyes bright and shining as if we’re sharing a secret. When she backs up to reveal her body, I almost squeal like a schoolgirl.

She’s wearing a lavender lingerie set, her full breasts practically spilling out of the lace bra. I groan, closing my eyes for a split second, and rub my forehead, the cigarette still lit between my two fingers accidentally singeing a few hairs in the process.

I curse under my breath.

I can’t believe I’m watching this beside a fucking dumpster.

My gaze lands quickly back on the video.

James settles herself on her back in the middle of the bed. I lick my lips. She trails her hand up her thigh, over the lavender thong, and then up her stomach. My grip tightens around the edges of my phone. She palms her tits with both hands. I’m fucking sweating. Her gaze lands on the camera. It feels like she’s staring straight at me. I take a large pull of my cigarette. She picks up something on the mattress beside her. At first, I can’t make out what it is until I hear the buzz.

Ohfuck.

It’s a small, pink vibrator. And I’ve never wanted to be a man-made thing so much in my entire life. Especially when she starts to circle it around her clit over the lace.

The back door slams open, and I nearly fling my phone into the bushes.

The dishwasher on shift pokes his head out. I turn my screen black.

“Fuck off Peter, I’m busy!”

He looks sheepish. “Sorry Oz, uh, Elle is looking for you. Says it’s urgent.”

I press my lips together. Of course.

---