Page 90 of Renegade Rift
It helps that I’m usually gone before Ford gets up in the morning, and he’s already at the stadium in the afternoon when I get home from the restaurant. Our only interactions have been the handful of texts he’s sent for proof of life, so there haven't been any awkward run-ins.
Am I avoiding him?
Maybe. Mostly because I’m not sure if I want to talk about what happened or ask him to be in the room the next time I finger myself. Or maybe I’d just offer for him to be the one to make me come.
Freaking hell.
I don’t even know who I am anymore. I never had these kinds of thoughts with Tyler. Our sex life was always very cut and dry. Even before he went into the majors. It was always on his schedule, and when he wanted it, and to be honest, I was okay with it because I didn’t know any better.
Or maybe that’s not true.
Maybe I just never truly let myself admit I wanted more until it was too late, and I was trapped. I was so young when we got together, and it’s not like I had another option once we were married. What more could I do than be okay with it?
You could have spoken up. Said something. Tried to create a space of honesty with Tyler.
I chuckle to myself. Ford is rubbing off on my conscience.
But I can’t live in the should’ve, could’ve, would’ve.
I also can’t forget what it’s like to have the freedom to come whenever and however I want.
A girl has needs, after all.
Shit, is this what it’s like to be a hormonal teenage boy who just discovered his dick?
“You ready in there?” Ford knocks on my door, eliciting a hiss from Lodhi. “Everyone will be here in about twenty minutes.”
I quickly slip on the tank top and tuck it into my high-waisted yellow and plaid white shorts before swinging the door open. “What do you mean, everyone will be here? I thought we were going on date number two.”
Ford steps forwardand leans against the frame, arms crossed over his Rebelution T-shirt—who I have learned is a small reggae band he’s obsessed with. He’s paired it with a pair of dark wash jeans that sit low on his hips and hug his thighs in all the right places.
He doesn’t immediately answer. His eyes are too busy tracing their way down my body, much in the same way I did his. They linger on the swell of my breasts and then the hem of my shorts on the way back up. He sucks his lower lip between his teeth, and it shouldn’t be as sexy as it is. But you know, second puberty strikes and heat fills my cheeks and pesky butterflies flutter low in my belly.
Ford chokes out a cough when he realizes he’s been caught gawking, and I’m thankful he has no idea I was doing the same thing.
“I—uh—we are having ourdate, but we aren’t actually going anywhere.”
“We aren’t?”
“Nope.” He pops the p at the end and turns toward the dining area. “Today is a lesson in meeting your date’s friends and playing nice.”
My brow furrows as I slip on my shoes and follow him. “I know how to meet people, Ford.”
I just choose not to.
He looks over his shoulder and arches one of his perfectly sculpted brows. “And yet, your only friend is Paige.”
“I’m going to tell her you said that like it was a bad thing,” I warn, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Please don’t. I really like my balls attached to my body.”
I do too. But I don’t let him in on that spicy little inside thought. “So, your friends are coming here, and we’re going to do what exactly?”
He stops at the dining table, and I notice the vase that usually sits in the center has been replaced with a giant mat that has a grid pattern on it. He waits for me to slide up beside him and pins me with a smirk. “PlayDungeons and Dragons, of course.”
I blink, unsure that I heard him correctly. “Your nerdy tabletop game?”
“One and the same,” he says with a chuckle. “And I wouldn’t knock it till you try it.”
