He stared at me thoughtfully, closing the distance between us in the kitchen. I was sitting on the island, and he came to fill the space between my legs like he’d done so many times before.
The bikini strings hanging from either side of my shorts found themselves trapped between his fingers while he gazed at me, love and longing and truth shining in his eyes.
“Why?” This summer was about fun. Not my unrealistic expectations for a man. Besides, I was starting to believe there wasn’t one man for me. But maybe three…
“Because I want to know if I have a chance. I’m not saying I can meet every standard you have. That would be a stretch. But between the three of us, I think we could make you happy. Not just sexually, holistically. Even after this summer is over.”
Between the three of us.
“Soul…”
He kissed the corner of my mouth and whispered, “Please just think about it.”
“You want me to be with all three of you?”
“Why not? People already think we’re together anyway.”
“But it’s?—”
“Unconventional.” His lips hovered over the hollow of my throat. “I know, but just because it isn’t common doesn’t mean we shouldn’t do it.”
He kept his lips there, his tongue caressing my warm skin until I had to pull away to remember what we were talking about.
“You would be open to that? Sharing me for longer than the summer?” I tried to keep the hope out of my voice, but I was pretty sure I just squeaked.
“Lovingyou for longer than the summer.” He gave my hair loving strokes, the softness of his touch giving me the space to consider what he said.
We hadn’t even had sex yet and he was talking about doing this for longer than the summer? It was as if he’d read my mind and knew I was toying with the idea of sticking around. But how?
Soul continued stroking my hair, his fingers sinking past my thick strands to massage my scalp.
“I’ve always loved your hair,” he murmured. He dropped another kiss on my temple and pleaded. “Just think about it, baby. We’ve been together all our lives, why not make it forever?”
Always Been You
Saturday, November 17, 2012 | Age 17
I walked to my bedroom door, frowning at the sniffling I heard coming from the other side.
My music had been blasting before I finally heard the knocks, so I didn’t even know who it was.
Sometimes I got lost in music while I did my homework. It helped me focus. But my mother liked to remind me that I wasn’t the only person in this house.
Shit.
I hoped she wasn’t dealing with one of her migraines and this wasn’t her knocking on my door.
Swinging the door open, I blurted out an apology but froze when my eyes clashed with Harlow’s puffy ones.
“Harley, what are you doing here?”
She sniffed again and I noticed the raised bumps forming along her jaw and forehead. “Can I come in?” She looked over my shoulder, like my room held the refuge she was seeking.
I didn’t hesitate to step aside, letting her in. And she went straight to my bed before falling across it diagonally, crying into my comforter.
“Harley, what’s going on? What happened?”
I sat beside her short legs and rubbed her back.
