Standing inside of the Starbucks, I watch her interact with the employees and I can tell she’s the manager. I have to give her props for being able to work hard and move her way up at such a mundane job. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I don’t find anything wrong with her working here. In fact, it intrigues me. Well, everything about her intrigues me.
Watching her, I sit in an open chair trying not to let my mind drift. That’s ’til she bends over, and fuck – I lose it. There goes all my control, everything I’ve been working at. My cock grows as my thoughts turn to more. Staring right at her sexy body, I can almost envision what she looks like: nude, apple ass, and great legs. I can’t help, but automatically imagine myself deep inside of her. God, what I’d give to bend her over and bury my cock, fucking her with deep, long, slow thrusts, giving her all of me.
She looks at me, interrupting my daydream and I turn my back, embarrassed. I should fucking leave, but I can’t. What my mind and body are saying are two totally different things. To hide my humiliation, I head for the restroom with as much speed as I can, trying not to look awkward. Fuck, it’s locked. I wait patiently, although it’s not an easy task. My fucking cock is hard. Taking my hands, I stick them in my pockets and readjust myself. Finally, the douchebag comes out and I sneak in, exhaling deeply and splashing my face with water.
Lying on my bed, my gaze is drawn to the side of the Starbucks cup where Arion wrote her phone number, followed by a tiny heart. It took me a few minutes to pull my shit together at her work today before I could face her and I’m glad I did. Man, is that girl something else. Here I was, wondering if I should ask her for her number or not, and she just gives it to me. As I concentrate on her handwriting, I can’t help but think about how nice it feels to think of something other than Kinsey for a few minutes. Recently, Kinsey’s death is all that has consumed me. I let my dreams of the NBA fucking wither away. I’ve basically pushed away all of my friends and the life I once lived.
My eyes feel heavy as I take long blinks, enjoying the cool air from the ceiling fan that is beating on my back. I feel at peace within myself. Thinking about Arion, I remember her lips, so soft and warm. I loved how she took full control and knew exactly what she wanted. Mmm, her mouth was so tight around my cock. I exhale, enjoying this moment.
My cell phone rings and catches me off guard. Rolling over, I glance at the screen but it’s blank. Fuck, that’s not my phone – it’s Kinsey’s. Shooting off of my bed, I grab it off of my dresser where it sits on the charger all the time now. The name on the screen reads “Chase.” Who’s Chase? I think to myself, but I don’t falter too long and risk missing out on an opportunity like this. “Hello,” I answer in a sharp tone. My blood is surging; who in the world would be calling her?
“Uhhh, is Kinsey there?”
“Who the fuck is this?” I bark back.
“Chase.”
“Why the fuck are you calling this number, Chase?”
“Kins gave it to—”
I cut him off. “Don’t fucking call her that,” I snarl. “Now answer my goddamn question, why are you calling this number?”
“I just wanted to talk to her. It’s like she fell off the face of the—”
“Dude, do you live under a motherfucking rock?”
“No, bro!”
“Well, you’re sure acting like it. How do you even fucking know her?”
“I don’t need to tell you shit, especially with how you’re acting. If you could tell her I called I would appreciate it.”
“I can’t do that – she’s fucking dead.”
“What?” he asks, shocked. “No. No. No.”
“I know. I don’t want to believe it either.” It pains me to have to say the next sentence, but he needs to know. He obviously hasn’t got a clue what’s going on. “She killed herself.”
He is silent. I feel bad, but Christ, someone needed to tell him. How in the world could he not know? It’s been all over the news and everything. It truthfully is mind boggling to me.
“Oh, God, are you serious?” he finally whispers.
“Yeah, man.”
“I…I had no idea. I’ve been doing missionary work with my church. And…”
“I’m sorry, dude.”
The line goes dead. He fucking hung up. Chase. Chase. I rack my brain trying to think of someone with that name that Kinsey talked about. I wonder who he was to her. I don’t buy it that he’s been traveling. He had to have known. Dammit, I should’ve asked more questions and not been such an asshole.
Hopping off my bed, I head into my dad’s office. “You got a second?” I ask him.
He’s seated behind his huge, glass, L-shaped desk. “Of course, what’s going on, son?”
“Did Kinsey ever talk about anyone named Chase?”
He twirls his pen around and around his finger, searching his brain for the name to click. “No, not that I can recall, why do you ask?”
“He just called her phone and had no clue that she was…well, that she’d passed. I find that strange, don’t you?”
“Absolutely. What else did he say?”
“He said he wanted to talk to her. I tried to ask how he knew her, but he wouldn’t tell me.”
“You should give his name and number to Detective Eldridge.”