Page 91 of West Bound

“Wow. You’re quick, Sherlock.” His hoists me up into his arms, my butt perched on his forearms, and I’m careful not to touch the tender flesh.

“But why, Phoenix? Why would you do that?” My eyes search his deep brown ones, and I immediately get lost in them.

“Cause I love you, baby. What I feel for you is something that I have never experienced before in my life, and I don’t think I ever will. If we were to end tomorrow, I wouldn’t regret it because I won’t ever be able to erase you from my memory, and this makes it so I can’t ever erase you from my life.”

Tears start to form in my eyes and I tell myself not to let them fall. I don’t cry over men. There was only one boy I cried over, and he’s the very man that’s bringing me to the edge of tears again.

“But-but…” I choke out.

“Just tell me you love me. That’s all I want to hear.”

I swallow down the ball of thick emotion and breathe deep. “I love you, Phoenix.”

His smile spreads like wildfire across his handsome face, and his chocolate eyes shine. He buries his face in my neck and says, “my girl.”

He kisses my cheeks, my lips, my neck, and slowly peels my clothes off. He cherishes me all night with a slow, sweet fuck complete with eye contact and whispered “I love you’s” said between us.

Talk about a never before experience. I’m so glad my heart waited for Phoenix.

“I need advice,” I tell the girls as we sit down to a long postponed brunch.

Mine and CeCe’s schedules have been so crazy that it’s now been three weeks since we had our weekly girls lunch. Before she and I were traveling, this was a non-negotiable and only varied on day or time depending on our baseball schedule.

“What about?” CeCe asks.

“Definitely not from you. Or you either, Cat. Sorry.” I point my eyes to Cami and say, “you. I need to know what the hell I’m supposed to do with this…relationship thing. Like, we said I love you, he got a tattoo for me–”

“He got a tattoo of you?!” the three of them somehow shout collectively.

“Not of me. Just…a symbol.” I flip open my menu and browse the drinks because what I’m about to spill requires alcohol.

CeCe leans forward, resting her chin on the back of her hand, and asks, “what symbol? An eggplant splitting a peach in two?”

Cami and Cat laugh but I don't.

“Shut the fuck up,” Cami blanches.

“Nooo. Not exactly Just a peach…because he calls me Peaches.”

“Blech,” CeCe says and pretends to gag.

“Peaches?” Cat asks.

And Cami coos, “awwwww. So sweet.”

I continue to scan the drinks and avoid making eye contact with them. “He said I have an ass like a juicy peach and it makes him want to eat it,” I rush out.

“Vivian Rhona…are you embarrassed?” Cat’s voice is teasing and yes, my cheeks blush.

“I wouldn’t say I’m embarrassed. It’s just…I’ve never had a guy say that to me when he wasn’t actively fucking me. And no one has ever said my ass was like a juicy peach. The closest anyone ever got was ‘damn baby, I could squeeze these melons all day’ while a guy titty fucked me,” I tell them, using my lowest octave.

CeCe snorts, then asks, “well, did he?”

I finally put the menu down and find all three of them staring at me like a science experiment.

“No. When he was done, he pulled up his pants, said thanks and then I left.”

“Not titty fucker. Phoenix. Did he eat your ass like a juicy peach?”

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