Page 17 of Feels Like Forever
It's not until Jude disappears in the bathroom that realization hits me. He left the light on all night. I’d assumed the brightness would bother him and he would turn it off, but he didn’t, and my chest aches with happiness. Only my dad and brother ever really do anything like that for me. My ex-boyfriends sure didn’t, and neither did the girlfriends I’d occasionally spend the night at growing up and into my early twenties. Nope, they’d make a comment about me being a wuss or a baby. Jude didn’t. In fact, I’ve yet to tell him about my fear of the dark. The only way he could even remotely know about me sleeping with a light on is from theother night, further proving my point that he pays attention to the big and small details.
“Foxy, you still in bed?” His voice bounces off the walls in the bathroom.
“No,” I reply, feeling like I got caught sleeping in on a school day before scrambling off the bed. Since we crawled into bed with a made bed, I go about straightening the sheets and pillows before pulling up the comforter. Once that’s done, I move into the living area to start my day further, and while I should probably get dressed, Jude isn’t the only one who needs a shower. I’m reminded of the mess between my legs with every step I take, though I’m not complaining. Now, I’m thankful for overpacking because my shorts are officially ruined until they’ve been washed.
I’m about to turn on the coffee pot when my phone lights up on the couch. I completely forgot to plug it in before going to bed last night. A few steps, and I look at the display. “Well, fuck, now I’m in for it.” My thumb quickly types the code in, unbothered to use the facial recognition. There are three messages from Dad and Zane. Damage control is imminent.
Dad: Ronnie, where’s the tequila? I swear this place wouldn’t survive without you.
I smile at the text. He’s not wrong, but also, which freaking tequila is he asking about? There are only about twenty different ones he could be talking about.
Me: Which one? Good morning, by the way. Sorry I didn’t text you yesterday. I hope you won’t run the bar into the ground ;)
I back out of that message thread. While Dad worries, he’s of the mind what he doesn’t know won’t keep him up at night. My brother, on the other hand… Jesus take the wheel, and somebody pray for my soul.
Zane “Bungholio” Navarro: Did you make it? Also, Dad is pestering me about some goddamn tequila. Text him back.
I check the time, realizing he sent the message around the time the festival wrapped up for the night. The next one came this morning.
Zane “Bungholio” Navarro: I swear to god, Veronica. Text me back, or I’m getting in my truck to drive to the festival, and I will make a stink until I find you.
My stomach drops. While my brother can be a pain in the ass, he does mean well. I fire off a text as fast as my fingers will type. There’s no way I’m calling him. He’ll yell through the phone, heavy with emotion, and I don’t want that to be Jude’s first impression of him.
Me: I’m so sorry. I got to the festival. Cell service has been spotty, and by the time I laid my head down, sleep took over. I promise I’m fine. And no, you’re not creating a circle to track me morning, noon, and night. I love you <3
“Everything okay?” Jude walks out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, water trickling along his tan skin, and I’m stuck staring at him. I’m busy wishing the towel would drop so I could finally see exactly what he has been holding back. “Foxy, you gonna answer me?”
“Um, yeah. Sorry. Everything’s fine. I had to text my dad and Zane. Kinda forgot to do that yesterday. I’ll start the coffee while you have a cigarette?” I offer.
“I can wait to smoke until the coffee’s done.” Hopefully, that means Jude will put on some clothes, because if not, I can’t be held accountable for my thoughts or wandering hands.
“Okay.” We go about working around one another. His hand touches me there, grips me here, and I have no problem jutting my ass out when he comes up behind me to reach for the coffee mugs. My body is on a slow sizzle, and I’m not sure how much longer I can hold back before I combust.
12
JUDE
“You ready, Foxy?” I drop my mouth to her ear, talking to her in a low voice. The building we’re in for our tattoos is humming with anticipation. People are walking in and out, some with fresh ink, others looking at what the artists have to offer. There’s music in the background, the electric hum of tattoo guns, and others talking.
After we made coffee and her phone stopped going off, we moved to the back deck area. I changed into a pair of athletic shorts after not bothering to do so in the bathroom. I shucked my towel, allowing it to drop to the floor before pulling up my shorts. Ronnie’s sharp intake of breath from behind told me she noticed, and it came to no surprise to her when we settled outside that I guided her to my lap.
This holding back on Ronnie has been a killer, and why I’m doing it has me scratching my head. She’d been more than ready to give me more, but in the back of my mind,something was telling me to take our time. Now I’m rethinking that idea. Every twitch of her hips, every smile she sends my way, and anytime her fingers so much as graze my skin, the hard-on I’ve kept to a semi perks up. My damn balls are so damn blue and my cock aches so damn badly, it’ll only be a matter of time until I concede to Ronnie and her sultry ways.
“Yeah. Do you mind if I go first?” There’s hesitation in her voice, and I quirk an eyebrow in response. “So, I have two little, okay, big hiccups. I’m kind of a weenie when it comes to those too.” Her hands go clammy in mine, and now I’m starting to question what the fuck happened. “You probably already surmised I need to sleep with a light on. I’m scared of two things: the dark and needles. Which is a story for another time. Trauma, what can I say?” My mouth goes dry, and my muscles tighten. Ronnie’s hand in mine is the only reason I’m remaining calm while being cognizant of not crushing her bones with the anger building up inside. “I’m okay, Jude, promise. I’ve worked through it, and while I still have my hangups, it doesn’t stop me from living my life.” Her other hand comes up to my chest. “I am kind of scared of needles. Loathe shots, can’t handle watching piercings or attempting to become a piercer. As you can see, I love the permanency, but I’d really appreciate it if you held my hand?”
“Anytime you need me, Foxy, you have me. You don’t ever have to ask.” I pull her in closer, kiss the top of her head, and realize there’s a lot to Veronica Navarro I still have left to figure out.
“Veronica and Jude?” Our names being called breaks the moment.
“Come on, it’s time to get you tatted up,” I say as we make our way to the back where the artists are set up.
“Hey,” Toula greets us with her tablet in her hand. When we made our appointments yesterday, a deposit was required, as well as what we wanted permanently inked into our skin. Ronnie went first, and once she had everything settled, she went to the restroom, allowing me to do my thing.
“Hi,” Ronnie says.
“Hey,” I follow.
“Okay, who’s going first?” Toula looks from me to Ronnie.
