Page 81 of Impending Consent

She scoffed. “The disaster wife who doesn’t know how to be a wife.”

“You feed me and fuck me. That’s a pretty good start.”

She barked a laugh. “That’s a terrible argument.”

I dropped a kiss to her mouth. “You made me dinner, I feel like that’s a very valid argument…”

"PB&J isn’t a real dinner.”

"It’s an effort. You could have stayed at the office, or picked up takeout for just you, but we’re here having a real conversation and I respect that more than anything."

“It’s hard for me to not be here.”

"Is that good or bad?"

She groaned. "I don't know yet.”

I laughed. "Good fucking thing my confidence isn’t lacking."

She smiled and rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do. You’re difficult as fuck but I have no complaints, so stop second guessing, aight?”

“Okay.”

Sailor dropped her head on my shoulder and her body relaxed against mine. I slipped an arm around her waist and tugged her closer. I loved when she was open like this so I just enjoyed the silence. Sailor drifted to sleep and I was stuck in my head with how the hell this was gonna work out. She was here but that didn’t mean she was all in. Sailor didn’t like being vulnerable and being with me meant exactly that. By the time the fire was just an orange glow, she shifted and peeled her eyes open.

"We should probably go in. It's getting late."

"Yeah, we should,” I agreed but didn’t move.

She snuggled closer and lifted her head. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being patient, not pushing and giving me space to figure this out."

"I told you I got you, Sail.” I lowered my mouth to hers and she leaned into the kiss.

"Come on.” I tapped her thigh so she would get up. "Let's head inside so we can get to bed."

"Yours or mine?"

“You fed me, so I’m going to fuck you. The location doesn’t matter, you decide.”

She laughed and leaned into me after I placed the lid on the pit to kill the fire. "Yours… If that's okay?"

"More than okay.”

Chapter 19

Sailor

"Girl, I cannot believe you're still married."

Skylar's laughter filled my apartment as she poured another round of non-alcoholic wine for herself and the good stuff for the rest of us. It had been six weeks since my impulsive wedding. Rival and I had settled into something resembling a functional relationship, and oddly enough, I had no complaints.

"Trust me, no one's more surprised than I am.” I accepted the glass she handed me and lifted my legs, tucking them under me before I sank deeper into the sofa.

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