Page 92 of Maid in America

Relaxed. At ease.

Happy.

Not manic, but… happy.

Over the last few months, he watched from the sidelines, heart thrumming every time they were near each other, chest aching when they were apart. His apartment felt empty, her smell lingering on his bedding for weeks after she’d made him a broken man. The warmth and sass she oozed had hopelessly tethered him to her, stringing him along as he twisted in the wind, never sure iftheir timewould ever come again.

Now, it was too late.

He wouldn’t be around long enough to afford another chance.

The thump in his chest beat its swan song for a love that could have been but never would be again.

“Yeah.” Barrett gave her hand a squeeze and then let it go to put the car in drive. “I have a lot to tell you, too.”

37

With fried chicken intow, Chastity and Barrett settled around the small kitchen bar in her apartment, an apartment where they had spent dozens of nights watching movies, building furniture, and hanging new art where there once had been marker-scribbled graffiti.

Molly, Chastity’s three-legged Mastiff, romped through the tiny space, plowing into Barrett and offering bountiful kisses and happy whines.

“She likes you more than she likes me, I swear.” Chastity laughed, reaching into the fridge. She snatched a soda and one of the craft beers that she kept on hand for Barrett.

He set the bags on the laminate countertop and glanced around her kitchen. Molly sniffed their bounty, which was nearly at eye level.

“Shit is so shiny in here it hurts my eyes to look at. Even the grout looks better. Someone has been cleanin’ her cute little ass off.”

Chastity shoved the beer into his chest, knocking some air from his lungs. “It’s amazing what you will resort to when you’re bored and trying to pay off your credit cards.”

Cracking open her can, she took a sip as the foam nearly spilled over. Smacking her lips, she hummed pleasurably, a sound that made Barrett’s blood rush south.

“By the way, I paid one off last week. I have one left, and I’ll be debt-free, baby!”

Barrett couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness that she wasn’t calling himbabyin a romantic sense.

It didn’t matter now, anyway.

The door was shutting on this situation, and now all he had to do was click the handle closed, sealing their fate for good.

“That’s amazing!” He fought his emotions, clasping the hand she held up in the air, eyes lingering on each other for a beat too long. He released it and stuffed his fists into the pockets of his jeans, accidentally snagging the fabric of his T-shirt with it.

“Come on. Let’s eat in the living room.” She snatched her box of chicken tenders and potato wedges. She hopped, hair bobbing as she jogged the short distance to the futon positioned in front of her fifty-inch television screen.

“I saved the season finale ofSummer Lovefor us to watch together. Do you realize how much self-control this took? A few months ago, I could have never. Now, please, sit!”

Molly heard the word as her own command and sat in the hallway between the kitchen and the living room.

“Not you, Molly.”

As if she understood, Molly stood, wandered over to them, and laid down in front of the futon at their feet.

“I can’t believe you saved it for me. Now. This fucking show. I swear to God, if you ever tell anyone I watched this with you… and actually kindalikedit… I will deny, deny, deny. I would watch the final episode ofeveryseason and call and tell you every final match before you’re caught up.”

She gasped. “That’sdiabolical.”

Chastity narrowed her eyes and flipped open her box of chicken. “Men and their sensitive egos.”

His eyes raked up her legs as she reached for the TV remote on the end table beside her. He got a flash of the waist strap of her white panties and fought the urge to groan.

---