Page 91 of See You at the Finish Line

“Are you?”

“A believer in fate? I don’t know. This past year has been a disaster. I lost my job because I couldn’t function after my mom’s death, so believing in fate seems just as cruel as believing in an almighty god.”

“I believe in God.”

I don’t know why, but this surprises me. “You do?”

“Yeah, I think it’s comforting to believe there’s someone up there looking out for us and god is an easy term for whoever the higher being is.”

“If there is a god looking out for us, why would they let bad things happen?”

He pauses, as if mulling over his answer. His thumb moves in smooth, soothing strokes. I don’t know if he’s aware that he’s doing it but I don’t want it to stop.

“For myself, I’ve found peace in the idea that whoever it is doesn’t actually have that much control. We’re in control of our choices and science is in control of life. God can’t do anything about someone getting surgery that ends up killing them because that’s the way biology works. But God or fate can put people in our lives to help us through it.”

I can’t say anything about that. A month ago, he alluded that getting disqualified was life’s way—fate’s way—of telling him I was the wrong choice.

“You weren’t there.” My voice is so small.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I wish I would have been there. I’m here now,” he whispers, holding me tighter.

That’s the second time he’s called me sweetheart. I don’t feel the need to say anything, so I don’t. The silence is comfortable as we drift off to sleep.

This is the bestdream I’ve ever had, hands down. It feels so much more real than all the others I’ve had of Paige. Even the ones where I was buried inside her weren’t as blissful as the sensation of her body draped over mine, our legs entwined and her head resting on the soft part of my shoulder. I can even smell her. Coconut shampoo and justher.

I know I’ll have to get up for work soon, but I want to hold on a little longer. I imagine wrapping my arms around her, enveloping her, pulling her as close as physically possible. She responds and drags her body farther on top of mine. My dick likes that because it brings her warmth right where I need it. I press into her and she moans softly in response.

God, that moan. It’s so real. She liked it so I move again, dragging my hands down to cup her beautiful ass and guide her hips against me. I’m painfully hard and the movement is the most pleasurable torture. I can’t stop. I thrust my hips up to meet hers and hear a gasp.

My lids fly open, the fog of sleep clearing as I adjust to the morning light. My eyes latch onto hers. I’m frozen in place, myfingers digging into her ass and my very full cock pressed between her thighs. I don’t think I can breathe or move. She doesn’t either. She stares at me like she’s searching my soul. My cock is insistent and my hips twitch of their own accord, needing more. The movement breaks the spell, and she drops her head to my shoulder, her body beginning to silently shake.

“Are you laughing or crying?” My voice is hoarse from sleep.

Her body keeps shaking, and it’s not helping my situation. I remove my hands from her backside as she bursts into a fit of giggles, letting her body flop over mine.

“You are hurting a man’s ego right now,” I say, grumpy.

“I am so sorry,” she says between giggles as she begins to calm down. “I thought I was dreaming.”

“If you’re going to apologize for anything, apologize for laughing.”

Her hand rests on my chest right above my heart, and she props her head up to look at me.

“I am sorry for laughing—it was not at you,” she says, giggling again. Her cheeks flush, and I bring my hand up to gently brush the hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. She leans into my hand.

“Then what was so funny?”

Her blush deepens and I raise a brow at her, curious at the thoughts behind it. She buries her head in my chest and her muffled voice tickles me.

“I’m a little embarrassed, but uh, I thought you were a figment of my imagination and I kind of went with it.”

“Definitely not a figment,”

“No, you most certainly are not.” Is it just me or do her hips move?

“There’s no need to be embarrassed. I thought I was dreaming too, and it was the best damn dream I’ve ever had.”

“Really?”

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