Page 127 of Friends Don't Kiss

He growls and hisses. I guess I’m doing well. If I’m being honest, the ridges of his cock against my tongue, the saltiness of his tip, the strength and softness of it all, is making me so wet and needy I start moaning with my mouth full.

He hisses again, fisting my hair. “Hell, baby, ride me.Ride me.” He pulls me up and I take him inside me, lifting up and down, his hooded eyelids as much a turn-on as the length that fills me. He strokes my breasts. “You’re just so perfect, you know that?” he whispers. I set a rhythm for us, getting worked up, but then he holds me still. “Reverse cowgirl now. Show me that ass.”

I turn around and take him back in, the position doing all sorts of new things to me. As I look over my shoulder to watch him watching me, it’s the absolute best. He’s coming into his orgasm, and I get to watch it for a second or two, until I give into my own pleasure and come, gripping the side of the couch.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, babe,” he says once I’m settled on his chest, spent. “I’m gonna put mirrors everywhere in our bedroom so you can watch yourself come on my cock. I promise you it’s the best.”

I stay silent for a bit, waiting for him to ask me again about moving in together, but he doesn’t.

“I know you got a lot on your mind right now, sweets,” he says, stroking my hair. “I shouldn’t have asked about moving in together last night. It wasn’t the right time, and it doesn’t really matter.”

Another stretch of silence and he adds, “I’ll love you wherever you are.” I know he’s not only talking about the apartment situation here in Emerald Creek. He’s thinking about me going to Paris, even if, as days go by, I’m more and more hopeful I can make it work here in Emerald Creek.

The reality is that in the days that follow, I come to understand why I never felt like I belonged anywhere. Dad’s betrayal cut deep, and I’m still trying to come to terms with it. I’m trying to not feel as if my whole life was built on a lie.

I see now why Colton was upset when I told him Emerald Creek was holding me back.

It wasn’t.

I was the one holding myself back, for reasons that are fast dissolving. After growing up all but idolizing him, believing the only reason he was “traveling” so much was to “make a better life for us” (Mom’s favorite lie), I thought he’d coldly turned his back on us.

The truth, as always, is way more complex. He had to leave to protect us. Even some of the horrible things my mother said to me at the time are beginning to make sense. When it comes down to it, my exposing my father was what ruined the fragile family life we had. I don’t regret what I did, but I can see where she was coming from. One day maybe, I’ll think through the sacrifice she had to make and begin to forgive her.

But now, I’m focusing on building the life I want for me. The life that’s so totally within my reach I can taste it. Starting with my business, in the cute little barn. Surely, I’ll get the variance. Surely, my business will thrive once I’m there.

Surely, once that’s secured, I’ll feel more comfortable moving in with Colton. There’s something about my own permanence that I need to figure out for myself first.

forty-seven

Kiara

Thehearingforthevariance is tonight. Colton made sure my application was airtight. Maddie said it would be a simple formality.

Tonight, a new chapter opens for me. I’m so happy I can hardly wait.

Even the email I received informing me I was accepted into the Parisian school doesn’t faze me. Funny how weeks ago, I believed this to be my lifeline and low-key obsessed over it. Now I hardly care—it’s just a nice ego-boost. The barn is the solution to all my problems.

Late that afternoon, Emma and I meet at Easy Monday’s. “I need a little positive reinforcement before the hearing,” I’d said as an emotional bribe to meet me for tea. We each order a chai and get comfortable in the upholstered chairs around a large cherry table, watching the place empty as the sun sets.

“You guys are on your own,” Millie says, turning the main lights off and leaving only our corner of the café lit.

“This feels very conspiratorial,” Emma says, licking foam off her upper lip.

“Thanks, Millie!” we both say as our friend leaves.

“I brought this for you,” Emma says, shifting through a stack of paper. “Thought it might cheer you up to have it all in print.” She points a manicured finger down a column of numbers.

I lean over and literally squint at the nice fat figures she’s pointing at. “We’re sure, right?”

She crosses her arms and looks at me with a satisfied smile. “If your numbers are accurate, yes. And they are.”

Theyare. We’ve been through this over and over and over. I know how to calculate cost and profit. I just didn’t trust myself. I thought something had to be off. There was no way I was so close to making it. No way. And yet here it is. Proof.

If I were that kind of person, I would kiss Emma right now for giving me the validation.

Uncrossing her arms, she stacks her papers. “How is Colton feeling about the variance?” she asks, then takes a sip of her chai.

“I’m not sure,” I admit. “He insisted on checking it before I filed it, but he hasn’t said anything.”

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