AllFreeNovel
Share Us
But really, howarewe going to end this? When?
Abel must be thinking the same thing. “Why don’t you unpack a little, then come downstairs? I’ll make us drinks and put dinner in the oven. Then we can figure out what our game plan is.”
“Great.”
“Margarita?”
“Is that what you’re drinking?”
“Tequila soda for me.”
“I’ll do the same.”
He grins. “You don’t want a tequila soda.”
“I’ll make do.” I have a huge sweet tooth, and Abel knows it.
“Margarita it is. Take your time, Jenny. Welcome.”
seven
. . .
Abel
Three Squares a Day
Measuringtequila into a pair of glasses, I mentally pat myself on the back.
I’m fucking crushing it tonight.
I’ve been decisive. Calm. Even when Jen noticed—appreciated—the house’s million tiny details I spent a decade dreaming up.
Even as I noticed how pretty she looks in her short, white dress. Hair long and loose down her back.
I only thought about getting her naked once.
Briefly. When her nipples poked through the dress’s thin fabric as we moved upstairs to the bedroom. I imagined trailing my hand down her bare back. Wrapping her hair around my fist and giving it a quick, hard tug, angling her mouth just so.
Just so I could lean down and finally taste her.
Nice girl like Jenny, she hasn’t been kissed the way I’d kiss her. I’d bet my life on it. She dates normal guys, and normal guys don’t drink deep and kiss hard.
Reason number one thousand why I gotta keepboundaries in place. I’d never forgive myself for hurting Jen. And that’s what would happen if we ever became more than friends.
It’s always what happens. Yes, I always make sure I have explicit consent before I touch someone. I make sure they want to do things the way I do them. Some people really do like the pain of intense, physical sex. People like me. But others aren’t made for it.
Others like Jen, who’s looking for something soft and sweet. She’d want to make love, and that’s one thing I don’t do in bed.
So being the decisive, calm person I am, I crumpled the fantasy of getting her naked in my mental fist and tossed it in the trash. The end.
See? Cool as a goddamn cucumber. Even if my hand shakes a little as I squeeze fresh lime juice into Jen’s glass. I stir in a good amount of Cointreau, too, along with a little agave. She likes it sweet. A flavor profile that’s not in my wheelhouse, but I’ll do my best.
I don’t end up bothering with soda, and I keep my cocktail just tequila on the rocks. Squeeze of lime. I stocked up on Casa de Dragones last time I was in South Port—there’s no liquor store on the island—so it’s good shit.
Sipping it, I close my eyes and savor the smooth, slightly bitter burn that slides down my tongue and throat.
Lord Jesus, please help me not fuck up my fake marriage. Also, it’d be great if you could keep the alligators away from the dogs. Thank you and amen.
