Page 77 of Meet Me in the Vines
fuck yeah lol.
Audrey
be there in 30 then.
Tia
??
I woke up with Donovan deliciously between my legs, devouring what he couldn’t have last night. I got embarrassingly drunk with his family after dinner and blacked out. The two orgasms he gave me this morning helped get rid of my throbbing hangover headache, and I made it up to him with a blowjob in the shower. I squeeze my thighs together, licking the faint taste of him on my lips, thinking about his gorgeous face coming apart for me.
Before I passed my limit, last night was amazing. Donovan’s family, including Caleb, were so gracious and kind, welcoming me and Pop with open arms. I laughed harder than I have in a long time. I realized last night that this could be my life. My life with Pop, Donovan, and his family. Tia and Logan too. I didn’t think it was possible, considering where I was going a month ago.
Kellan was all I had known since I was nineteen. I shut out everyone who loved me, because it was clear I didn’t love myself—Kellan made sure of that. I closed my heart off to the possibility that it could get better. That I wanted it to get better. I convinced myself I’d already had my chance of love that night with Donovan in the gazebo; I wasn’t worthy of more. I believed Kellan’s lies, wrote my own narrative around them. These last few months with Donovan have taught me how to rewrite my story. The man gives me his love in capital letters. Unabashedly. And I relish in every syllable.
And now, with Tia home, I’m going to tell her everything. I’d been so deprived of friendship for so long. I admit, I was nervous if Tia and I would connect like we used to. It’d been ages since I had seen her in person. I wondered if we both had changed too much.
But all of that doubt evaporated into thin air the moment we embraced. Everything was as it had always been. And now, I was really looking forward to our girl’s day.
I opt for a pair of light-wash flared jeans and a lavender razorback tank top. I’ve had to get used to seeing myself in colors again since I moved back.
I zhuzh my hair a bit, smiling at my natural color that I’ve always loved. I lean closer into my reflection, inspecting the freckles sprinkled across my nose. All my life I had been insecure about these dots that pepper my face—until Donovan. The wide grin pulling at my lips is too big to hide. I’m able to look at myself and love who’s staring back. My fingers trail along the column of my neck, down to my collarbone. The bruises that used to live there vanished with every gentle kiss from Donovan’s heavenly lips. He’s healed me from within, and the beaming smile in my reflection is proof that I’m going to be okay.
I give myself a reassuring nod in the mirror and head into the living room. I swipe the keys from the hook by the front door and step onto the porch, getting hit with a wave of dry heat. A cool breeze brushes against my cheeks as I make my way down the steps, thankful for some relief from the sweltering air.
Donovan left me his truck and took the quad to work so I could go pick up my Jeep from Pop’s house. As I settle into the driver’s seat, I reach forward to turn the ignition when I see a folded note perched on the dashboard.
I grab the note, reading “Mouse” written across the top. Just like the note he left for me with my dress. Damn, I’m down bad for this man.
Hey baby,
Have fun with Tia today. Can’t wait to see you at the winery. Maybe I can steal you away so we can finish what we started this morning.
I love you,
D
Can your heart smile? If it can, it’s doing it right now. A big, fat, cheesy smile. I place the note in my purse and fire up the engine, making the quick ten-minute drive to Pop’s.
I approach the garage to swap cars and put the truck in park, sliding out of the driver’s seat and walk toward Jules. It’s a perfect day to cruise in the Jeep with no roof, no windows, and no worries. Just me and my best friend.
I open the door and find another neatly folded note sitting in my seat.
“Aww, Donovan,” I giggle quietly to myself, overwhelmed by his affection.
Mouse,
“My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”
I really do,
D
Jane Austen. My copy ofPride & Prejudiceis beaten and tattered from the amount of times I’ve read it. The apples of my cheeks are sore from smiling. I’m like a love-sick teenageraround him, squealing and giggling, kissing his picture on my wall, scribbling “Mrs. Audrey King” in my diary.
Audrey
Don’t ever stop writing me love notes.
