I get in my truck and back out of the driveway.
Staying off the main roads, I take to the back ones I like to take when I’m not in a rush to get home. It’s after six o’clock now, so there’s no need for me to go back to the job site. Work’s closed for the day.
Windows down, I inhale the cool night air as it blows against my face. Silence surrounds me, the only noise being the wind whipping around the bed of the truck. The tight coils of tension in my shoulders slowly unravel. I focus on the road in front of me, the quiet night, the faint smell of flowers nearby. My phone rings on the seat and I glance down at the name flashing on my screen.
I hit speaker phone, grinning like a fucking idiot.
“Miss me already?”
She laughs, but there’s a nervousness to it. One I’d have to be fucking deaf to ignore.
“Yeah, I . . . okay, this sounds really crazy, and stupid, and you’re probably going to laugh at how ridiculous I’m being right now, but is there any way you could talk to me for a little while? I know you hate talking on the phone, but I’m, I just . . . I would really, really love to talk to you right now.”
I move the phone to my lap while my hand shifts gears. Her voice worries me.
“Beth, what’s going on? Why do you sound like that?”
The squeak of a mattress comes through the phone. “My aunt and uncle had to go out of town. That’s why they were trying to reach me, to let me know that they had to leave. I got home and found a note from them in the kitchen, and now I’m going to be in this house by myself for a few days and I’m freaking out a little. I just, I don’t like being alone, Reed. I don’t like not having someone to talk to.”
I shift again, picking up speed while a pressure forms in my chest. She’s not freaking out. She’s fucking scared. Her breath is anxious against the phone, she keeps moving around on the bed, restless. Getting her to talk would be one approach, but she needs to hear my voice right now. She needs to know she’s not alone.
Cue the most random shit I can think of.
“I had this dog when I was little that I rescued. He was so nervous all the time, like his fucking hair would fall out if you sneezed around him. Or if you made any sudden movements when he was near you he’d piss everywhere, and then he’d lay in it.”
Beth laughs quietly as I turn onto another road.
“Oh my God.”
“We would’ve gotten rid of him, but we felt bad because his previous owners abused him, so it wasn’t his fault he was like that. Those assholes kept him tied up outside all day, neglecting him, and they gave him the worst fucking name.”
“What was it?”
“Butter.”
“Butter?” she chokes on a giggle. “Why would you name a dog that? That’s so weird.”
“Yeah, I know. I tried changing it and calling him Hulk, ‘cause I was obsessed with wrestling at the time, but he wouldn’t respond to anything except Butter. I fucking hated that name. I wanted this bad-ass dog, you know? I didn’t want to be hollering out the name Butter when he got off his leash.”
“Did he look like a bad-ass dog?”
“Fuck no. He always had these stupid bows in his hair that Riley would put on him. She wanted him to be a girl.” I pull into the driveway, taking the phone off speaker as I step down from my truck. “I caught him in my bed one day chewing on one of my shoes, and I yelled at him, and then I remembered that he always pees when you yell at him, and he was on my fucking bed.”
Beth gasps. “Oh my God. Did he pee in your bed? Oh no, no, no.” She starts laughing again.
“You want to know?”
“Yes!” she cries.
“Come let me in and I’ll tell you.”
Her laughing cuts off. “What? Let you in? Are you at my house?” Movement sounds through the phone, the mattress springs, hinges of a door swinging open, her footsteps on the stairs. “Reed, are you really here?” she asks breathlessly a second before the door opens.
I lean my shoulder against the frame. “That asshole peed all over my bed. I was so pissed,” I say into the phone.
Eyes wide, she slowly lowers the phone from her ear, then lets go of it completely. It crashes against the floor, mine hits something when her tongue wets her lips. She lunges at me, wrapping her hands around my neck and presses her full, perfect, fuck, I love this mouth, against mine.
I moan, one hand in her hair, the other cupping her ass, grinding her against my cock.
Yes. Fuck, yes, please.
She slides her tongue along my bottom lip, then squeaks and quickly pulls back, looking startled as she backs away. “I’m sorry. Was it okay that I did that?”
I stare down at her, panting, my breathing all over the place, my cock harder than steel. “Are you fucking kidding me? I was worried I would never kiss you again.”