“Show me.”
She straddles me and slips me back inside of her, sensually moving us back and forth, as she whispers, “I love you,” over and over again.
Paul has literally just pushed me out the front door. I’m standing on the porch, facing him, as he stands in the doorway, blocking my reentrance.
“You’ll call me if anything comes up, right?” I question. I’ve asked him this a million times already, but one more time can’t hurt.
“Clara,” he sighs exhaustedly as he lets his head thump against the door. “I swear I will call you if she so much as farts.”
“Dad!” Neena shrieks from where she’s standing behind him.
“Sorry, princess,” he calls over his shoulder.
Neena pokes her head out between his body and the doorframe. “Go, Mom,” she insists. “Have fun!”
“Come on,” Ally hollers from the car, her head hanging out the passenger side window. “Vanessa peed like twenty minutes ago. That means we’ll have to stop in about an hour.”
Paul shrugs as if to say, guess you gotta go. I huff. I woke up this morning feeling on top of the world. Our night together was incredible, and somehow better than years ago when we were younger. I climbed out of bed happy and determined. Determined not to go on this trip. I love my friends and would love to go away with them for a beach night, but my kid is sick. She needs me. How could I even consider leaving her?
These are the points I argued to everyone this morning. It was taken to a vote: 4–1. I lost. Six against me if you count that they tried to count Marcus and Mei-ling as mail-in votes. Neena’s phone rings from inside the house and she quickly utters, “Bye, Mom. Love you,” before she rushes away to answer it.
Paul steps out onto the porch and takes my face in his hands. He kisses my forehead, my cheeks, my chin, and then my mouth. “I promise I’ll take good care of her. Please go have fun.” Then he kisses me again, long and slow, his fingers sliding up into my hair. When he pulls away, my body feels limp. His dark eyes beam onto mine as he grins. Fucker. He knows I’m like putty in his hands. “Last night was amazing,” he whispers with a smirk. “Let’s do it again real soon.
And it was amazing. He’d told me so a million times this morning. But I’m not tired of hearing it yet. Then turning me, he swats my ass and sends me on my way.
When I climb in the car, Ally’s wearing a shit-eating grin, but it’s Vanessa that starts first. “You look like you’re walking a little funny today, Clara,” she heckles from the backseat.
“Clara got some brown chicken, brown cow,” Ally teases, imitating the classic porno music. That’s her hilarious way of saying, bow chicka wow wow.
They both laugh as I chuckle, my face heating slightly.
“How was it?” Ally asks, her tone indicating her desperation for details. She looks all cute and innocent to the outside world, but she’s really a horny little freak.
I shrug as I put the car in drive. “Pretty damn awesome,” I admit.
“Good for you,” Vanessa laughs.
“I didn’t know it could still be so . . . hot,” I confess.
“What?” Ally questions me, her face scrunched up. “Sex?”
“Well, yeah. It was . . . kind of dirty—in a good way. I kind of thought I’d never have that again.”
“Why?” they both ask in unison.
“I don’t know,” I groan, suddenly feeling embarrassed. I feel like the thirteen-year-old that hasn’t started her period when all her other friends have. “I guess I thought with age and a kid, and . . . I don’t know.”
“So Paul is a super freak . . .” Ally notes with admiration.
Images of him beneath me, watching me, thrusting in and out of me flicker through my mind. Ugh, the sex was amazing. I needed that so badly.
“Judging by the look on her face, definitely,” Vanessa snorts.
Neena and I spend the day watching movies, lounging on the couch. Around four, her phone rings and she goes to the kitchen before she answers. Then she walks back in the living room, phone to her ear.
“You’re here? Right now?” she says, to whomever is on the other end. I sit up and mute the television and watch her as she opens the front door.
It’s Mills.
Mills is here.
Mills that makes my daughter cry.
Great.
“Hi,” she manages as she drops her phone to her side. Her other hand fingers her scalp nervously. She’s not wearing her scarf. The brown fuzz that covers her head is as dark as mine and offers a vast contrast to her pale skin.
“Hi. Sorry to just show up, but . . . I wanted to talk to you and your mom.”
“Mom’s not here,” Neena says.
“But Dad is,” I offer loudly as I stand and approach the door. Mills’ eyes widen slightly and he fidgets a little, shuffling in place.