I reach under her arms and guide her up so she’s lying on my chest, our faces close.
“I don’t know how this works at our age; I haven’t been committed to anyone in a while.” She looks at me skeptically, but I continue. “Do I have to officially ask you to be mygirlfriend?”
She laughs and shakes her head. “I think you kind of just did.” She gently brushes my lips with her fingers, and I peek out my tongue to wet them. “I’d love to officially be your girlfriend.” She removes her fingers from my lips and replaces them with her own lips.
I wrap my arms around her and put a hand on the back of her neck to deepen the kiss.
She brings her legs forward, separating them so she’s straddling me. I’m only wearing sweats, and she’s only wearing underwear. I can feel the heat from between her legs, and I instantly start getting hard. Our lips never part as she grinds on me. I lift my hips up into her, needing to feel more of her.
My stomach growls, and I remember that we haven’t gotten up to eat in a while. She senses my hesitation and pulls away from me. I rub my hand down my face, not wanting this to stop but knowing it will.
“I really want to fuck you right now, but I’m starving.”
As if it heard me, her stomach rumbles. “I am too.”
“How about I cook us some dinner, and then we can resume this?”
“Sounds good to me.”
She moves her hips one more time just to tease me; I close my eyes, scrunching my face. It takes everything in me not to rip off her underwear and fuck her into this bed.
But she finally concedes and climbs off me.
LOUISA
We get up and start walking to the kitchen, but Sam hesitates. “I’ll be there in a second.” I can tell he’s desperately trying to tame his raging hard-on. I giggle and makemy way to the kitchen, grabbing myself a glass of water. He joins me shortly after.
I sit on a stool at the island, watching Sam play master chef in the kitchen. Music is playing on a speaker, a hot guy is making me dinner, and I'm completely satiated yet somehow wanting more; who could dream up a more perfect scenario?
I'm so happy, but something about this makes me sad. I think about how I could have had this all along if he hadn't ended things. We missed out on so many happy months together. Would those unhappy things that have occurred in my life recently have happened if we never parted? Probably not.
I haven't brought it up yet because I've been on cloud nine, and I didn't want to risk losing it. But I have to know. I have to ask him why he did it.
"Sam, can I ask you a serious question?"
He stops chopping peppers for a second and looks up at me. "Of course."
"Why did you end things between us?"
He puts his knife down and wipes his hands off. "I've been wondering when you were going to ask that. You asked me this the other night when I picked you up from the club."
I did? Did he tell me?
"I told you I'd tell you when you were sober."
"Well, I'm sober now."
He lowers his head and doesn't say anything for several moments.
"You won't hurt my feelings, Sam; please just be honest with me. Was there someone else?" He's still silent, staring down at the cutting board. "Was it something I said or did?"
"No."
I wait a few more moments, and then I go to ask again. "Sam?—"
"Jacob died."
I'm taken aback; my mouth falls open, and I have no idea what to say. I can see the tension in his body; he's clearly uncomfortable.
