“My God, I’ve missed you.” Bo presses his forehead into mine, silencing any response I might have with a forceful kiss.
I raise my arms over my head and knot them through my hair as he pushes faster. Ecstasy cries out of my throat as he gently bites my lower lip. If I’d had my eyes closed this entire time, I would still have known it’s him—my body knows him. Bo slows for a moment, pulling back to look at my face. He looks absolutely broken. A tear finds its way down his face, clinging to his chin for a moment before free-falling to my neck. Reaching up, I dry his eye with my thumb. He turns his cheek into my hand as I draw my hand down his face, taking my thumb into his mouth for a second before burying his face in my neck, while he pushes harder and faster into me.
My hips and legs go numb as I try to find traction by releasing my hands and raking them through his hair. It shouldn’t feel this good at this moment, on this day, but it does. Oh my God, it does. Bo sits up on his knees, still inside me, and puts one of my legs up on his shoulder, stretching every muscle in my body as he leans back into my chest. I moan into his mouth as I force myself to silence the “I love you” brewing in my brain.
“You feel so good, November.” His eyes are closed and his face looks distant, as if he’s pretending we’re somewhere else.
He pulls out and grabs both of my hips, forcing them over wordlessly. I position myself on my hands and knees, sweeping my hair over one shoulder. Bo kneels behind me and brushes his hand slowly from my hips and up the length of my spine, before gripping my shoulder and entering me again. I grab at his bedsheets for balance as he slams into me over and over with low groans, gripping my hips with both hands now. Grief, anxiety, lust, love, and missing the absolute hell out of him brews an orgasm within me so intense that my arms give out and my shoulders press into the bed.
“Bo!” My scream is muffled into his mattress.
Bo’s fingertips dig painfully into my hips as his relentless pursuit of release nears its end. His movements become ragged as he starts to pulse inside me and I know he’s close. I reach between my legs and rub him as he pushes in and pulls out. It’s his breaking point. Bo throws his head back as he wails through me, collapsing onto my back when it’s over. He clumsily pulls out of me and rests his head on my shoulder when I roll over, his ragged breathing filling the oppressive silence of the house. Within a minute I watch the rise and fall of his chest even out, telling me he’s asleep. I lay motionless as silent tears roll from my cheekbones, off my earlobes, and onto his pillow.
*
The sweet smell of Bo’s cologne lifts from the t-shirt of his I’m wearing. I tiredly fumble my way through making coffee. The sun has risen again. At least we have that. The open windows on the first floor of the house usher in the sound of a car coming up the driveway. I grab the jeans I was wearing the night Rae died and slide them over my hips as I walk to the door. Ainsley’s bleach-blonde hair glows as sunlight bounces off her empty head.
“What do you want, Ainsley?” I try to sound bored as I open the door, but my heart is galloping through my chest. I know exactly what she wants.
She flips her hair over one shoulder and pushes past me and stands in the foyer. “What the hell are you still doing here? Don’t you live in Massachusetts?”
“I do. Bo asked me to stay.”
Well, he didn’t, but it was kind of implied.
Ainsley dips her chin as her eyebrows curl into a wicked stare. “Oh, and I’m the tramp, am I?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You should. Why are you wearing his t-shirt? You really are no better than you make me out to be, are you?”
I calmly set my coffee on the small table reserved for keys and walk toward Ainsley. She wisely takes one step back.
“Bo asked me to stay. Unlike you, I didn’t muscle my way into his grief. God, you’re such an opportunist—a self-righteous one at that. I’ll tell Bo you stopped by. I’m sure it’ll make his day.” I turn back to my coffee when Ainsley’s hand snakes around my forearm, turning me to face her.
“Don’t you dare order me around, you arrogant bitch.”
I swallow my rage and my desire to smack her across the face. I settle for clenching my fist. My tone is cool.
“I suggest you let go of me.”
“Or what? Seriously, what will you do?”
I can’t swallow it anymore. I take my free hand and crack her porcelain cheek. It echoes through the house, as she drops my hand and puts hers to her face. Her wide ice-blue eyes fill with tears, and I wonder for a moment if she’ll hit me back. I’ve never hit anyone before, and she looks as surprised as I feel.
“Get the hell out of his house, Ainsley! If Bo wants you back, he knows where to find you.” I open the door and wait for her to exit.
“Oh, he wants me here. If he didn’t, he would have asked me to leave the night you bailed on him after the concert.” With the red cheek, her arched eyebrow makes her look maniacal.
Bo’s heavy footsteps down the stairs stop both of us. “I’m asking you to leave now, Ainsley.”