“Fuck!” I stop what I’m doing, lean my back against the tiles and slide down the wall.
What the fuck am I doing? Why did I make her stay here with me? I’m the last thing she needs in her life right now. I’m a fucked up mess, but I want her so fucking much. She fits. When I wrap my arms around her, when her little body is pulled against mine, she fits and all is right with my world.
I rub my hands over my face and stand back up and wash myself. I’ve no idea where I’m going with this. I don’t know if I have it in me to have a normal relationship. I want it. I want it so fucking much, and I want it with her, but I don’t know if I’m capable. I’ve spent so long running from relationships and intimacy, I don’t know if I would even know how to be with someone.
I step out of the shower, wrap a towel around my waist and clean my teeth. My toothbrush is lying on the side of the sink and not in the holder where I usually keep it and the thought that Meebs has had it in her mouth makes my dick twitch. I grab another towel and walk into my bedroom rubbing my hair dry with it and stop dead in my tracks.
She’s lying in the foetal position, in the middle of my bed. She has on my T-shirt and it’s pulled over her knees, just her feet sticking out of the bottom. She’s tiny, so fucking small and beautiful and perfect. This girl, this woman, has consumed my thoughts for most of my life. I’ve dreamt about her. I’ve written songs about her, and now here she is, in my home and in my bed. I consider myself to have a pretty vivid imagination, but fuck me, the reality of her being here far outweighs anything my brain could’ve come up with.
Her hands are curled into fists and tucked under her chin. Her damp blonde hair is splayed out over the duvet cover. I move in closer, sitting on the edge of the bed so I can get a better view. Her fair lashes fan out across her cheeks, which are covered with a light dusting of freckles that also cover her nose. Her pale pink lips are in a perfect pout as she sleeps. Watching her like this, brings order to my thoughts. The anger and aggression I was feeling earlier has gone. Looking at her flawless skin and natural beauty calms my raging mind and I don’t doubt for a moment what the feeling is that has settled in my chest.
Love.
I love her.
I’ve never stopped loving her, and it scares the shit out of me.
I want this. I want her and I’m so scared that I’ll fuck it all up again.
I go into my wardrobe and pull on a pair of boxers and then go and lay on the bed. I wrap my arm around Meebs and pull her back into my front. I breathe her in and the realisation that she smells of me almost makes my heart beat out of my throat. I loved her before, back when we were kids, but this is on another level. I’m not sure if it’s because I now know what it’s like not to have her in my life, but what I’m feeling now… fuck… I don’t know. I’m a songwriter and I don’t have words right now to describe this. I pull her in tighter and kiss right below her ear.
She lets out a little moan and turns around in my arms to face me. Her hand comes up and touches my cheek and she mumbles, “I love you, Conner Reed. I love you so fucking much.” Her lips find mine and she kisses me gently, then just carries on sleeping.
Fuck, multiplatinum-selling albums.
Fuck, The Grammy’s and The Brit Awards.
Fuck, the millions in the bank, the cars, horses and properties.
Fuck it all!
She loves me. This girl loves me and I swear to each and every God that might be listening, I will sort my shit out and I will be what she needs in her life. I will do everything necessary to become worthy of her love.
Does that make me a pussy? Probably but I really don’t give a fuck.
I wake to the sensation of a hot little hand resting on my hip. I open my eyes and realise that it’s Meebs hair tickling my nose that’s woken me. I kiss the top of her head, which causes her to stir. She moves her hand and it rests right on my dick.
Pearce Matthews.
Pearce Matthews.
Pearce Matthews.
Shit! Even thinking about her dickwad brother is doing nothing to lessen my hard-on.
Suddenly a pair of big blue eyes are looking up at me. She starts to smile, then her fingers move and she frowns. Pulling her hand away from my crotch, she blushes and buries her face in my chest.
“Please tell me I didn’t sleep all this time hanging on to your dick?” I think is what she asks.
I lift her chin so that she has to look at me. Her cheeks are glowing and I can’t not kiss her. My lips just make contact with hers when she pulls away.
“I’ve probably got morning breath,” she says.
“I think you’ll find it’s afternoon breath.”
“That does nothing to reassure me, that it doesn’t smell like a fart.”
I can’t help but smile. “You said fart,” I say with a grin.
“And you’ve got a hard-on,” she replies.
“Oh my God, now you’re saying hard-on. What happened to that sweet innocent Nina Amoeba I used to know?”