“What? No!” Marley swats her right back.
“Speaking of my brother.” Piper stands, and my heart gives a horrific slam against my chest as I slowly turn around in anticipation of panic attack number two for the morning, but it’s not Cade she’s wrapped her thin limbs around. It’s his other lookalike, Marley’s handsome boyfriend, Wyatt. “When are you going to seal the legal deal and get hitched?” She’s quick to scold. “I swear, if I lose her because of some dumb move you make, there will be hell to pay.”
“Don’t you worry. There’s no way I’m letting this girl get away.” He pulls Marley in and buries a kiss over her cheek. Something about that tiny show of affection warms me right down to my toes as I envision Cade doing just that to me. He tried to kiss my left cheek, but I was quick to avert the tragedy. If he didn’t see my scar, he would have felt it, and I was in no mood to turn his stomach. Speaking of Cade’s kisses, that boy tried to bury one in a much more interesting place—a place no man has ever gone before, and just the thought of his hot mouth over that intimate part of me makes me shudder with pleasure all over again. Not that I actually shuddered with pleasure last night—not in the orgasmic sense anyway. But I’m sure if I had lingered, that boy would have been up for rounds two and three. I’m sure he would have set me sailing for that pleasure cruise sooner than later. He already had me at the brink.
“Just try getting rid of me.” Marley hikes up and smacks him with a kiss. It’s all so ridiculously sweet it makes my teeth ache just watching. “I’d better catch up with Baya and see what needs to be done about the upcoming inventory.”
Piper pulls Marley back by the fingers. “This girl right here is the entrepreneur of the century. She literally took a few rags and stitched her way to riches.”
“Really?” I perk to attention. “I’d love to pick your brain some time. I’m dying to get into business for myself one day.” The sooner the better. My scholarships have been few and far between, and it’s been Caila filling in the financial gaps for me. Of course, she’s happy to do it. She made the offer herself multiple times before I ever agreed, but there’s not a scholastic day that goes by that I don’t feel a pang of guilt over the fact it’s her physical body that allows me to partake in the proverbial student body.
“Anytime!” Marley touches a hand to my shoulder before her eyes round out at the sight of my scar. I don’t go the extra mile to hide it from estrogen card-carrying members, and Wyatt, well, he’s taken. She clears her throat as her face brims with color once again. “And that other thing you might like to talk about—that would be the perfect time to kill two birds with one stone.”
The two of them take off in semi-coital bliss with their arms wrapped tight around their waists, their lips pecking at one another at least a dozen times before heading out the door.
“That, right there, is what I want someday,” I whisper mostly to myself, but when I come to, I note all three of my best friends gawking at me with marked sadness. I know what they’re thinking—the walk of shame seldom leads to places like that. They’re right, of course. But, for me, it’s pretty doubtful any road will ever lead me to that storybook happily ever after.
A week drifts by, and the new semester begins with a rainstorm walloping us from every angle. It’s a dark and angry day with growling charcoal skies, winds battering us at exhausting speeds. You need to lead with your head just to force your way through nature’s fury.
I’ve laid low for the last few days, as in sequestering myself to my dorm, with the exception of a quick trip to the grocery store to build my stockpile of Twinkies and Ding Dongs. I can’t help it. I eat when I’m nervous, and that little tryst with Cade has me tangled up in a bungee cord of emotions. What if he’s on the lookout for me? What if the big trio was so impressed they’re just itching to make some music again? They want to play the vagina—mine to be exact. We did have a good rhythm going there—albeit a rather short one. And, dear God, did I just refer to my girl parts as an instrument? That’s ridiculous, of course. But, if it were an instrument, it would definitely be a wind—something I didn’t exactly give city boy an opportunity to blow for the evening.