Page 107 of Hot Mess Express
I don’t know if I can be that honest with him. I suddenly hate that Anthony might be right. Maybe I’ve been lying to myself this whole time, saying this isn’t just a short-term thing—a ride on the train from one point to another, only to hop off and watch it roar away down the tracks, unsure if I’ll ever board it again.
So instead of answering, I just pull him close, embracing him tightly in my arms. He says nothing more, burying his face in my chest under a blanket of far, far away stars.
24
ANTHONY
It’s the first morning I wake up without him.
And the first damned thing I do is roll over to grab him, only to remember I’m not on the fold-out couch at Trey and Cody’s, but on the couch in Juni’s apartment, and instead of grabbing anyone, I just roll straight off of it, crashing to the floor with a grunt.
And I remember he’s gone.
Left yesterday.
The goodbyes are a blur. I was swallowing down everything I felt, putting on a brave front. He was just leaving for a little while, right? He’d be back. He promised.
I just stay on the floor, close my weary-ass eyes, and try to fall back asleep.
Then my phone dings from the coffee table, opening my eyes right back up. I reach up and grab it, almost whacking it onto the floor in the process, and bring the bright-ass thing to my sleepy, squinting eyes.
It’s a text from Bridger.
He has the audacity to ask if I’ve gone on my morning jog yet.
I frown and type out an angry response, then throw my phone aside, roll over, and shut my eyes to sleep.
My phone dings a minute later.
He says he doesn’t care if I was in the middle of a nice dream.
Minutes later, I’m sitting up, back against the couch, texting him about how I’d be far more motivated to continue my morning jogs if he was here to give me a wake-up blowjob first.
He sends back a selfie with his fist in front of his face and his tongue dug into the inside of his cheek, poking it outward like it’s my dick in his mouth.
I crack a smile.
Then reply with a selfie of me rocking my eyes back.
I can practically feel him sitting right next to me as we text, grinning or laughing in that muted, understated way he does from my responses. Y’know, when he’s trying not to laugh because he’s a totally mature grown-up adult man, but can’t help himself.
Then he asks me if I got the gift.
I look up from my phone at the box sitting on a table next to Juni’s vanity.
I tell him I did.
He asks if I opened it.
After a breath, I set the phone down on the couch, rise off of the floor, and bring myself over to the medium-sized box—which I refused to open when it was left for me.
I felt like opening it would be like accepting that he’s gone.
So I didn’t.
I’m playing mind games with myself. Pretending he’s just on a quick trip to Fairview. Or down to the beaches at Dreamwood Isle with Pete for some reason. Kansas is too far, so he’s definitely not there. Why the hell would he go to Kansas other than his family?
Guess same argument can be made about Spruce.
