Jessica
3. Those men were getting complacent and needed a shake-up.
Jessica
4. Later, when they are all getting fucked, they can thank us for coming extra hard. So yeah, I’m fine taking the blame for everyone having a fantastic night.
Jessica
5. Like I’m not going to get fucked later. You’re delusional.
It’s official. I can no longer deny it. Jessica Moore has my number.
After last night, when she’d confronted me about my relationship with Gracie in the most public way possible, I’ve been forced to reckon with a truth I’ve been ignoring.
I fucking love her drama.
And she somehow gets this about me.
Jessica has managed to tap into something I hadn’t known I was missing. Something I hadn’t even known I wanted.
The past I’ve thought more about since I confessed to Jessica than in the last five years keeps shifting and changing as I look at it with the perspective of an adult.
Because my childhood was full of instability and chaos, the only way I survived was to swing to the opposite extreme. I picked rigidity and structure, a career filled with rules and hierarchy that would provide context to the tragedy of my parents. I avoided attachments because I viewed emotions as unsafe.
Until her.
The truth settles into my bones.
I might have never felt it before, but I still recognize it.
I’m in love with Jessica.
The man I was before her would think I’ve lost my fucking mind.
It’s too fast. I get it’s crazy.
Obviously, I’m not stupid enough to say that to her because, in theory, we hardly know each other. But the notion came to me the night she drew me that bath, and I’ve been trying to talk myself out of it. But deep down, I know.
It’s not lust.
It’s not infatuation.
It’s not sex.
It’s not getting swept up in the moment.
It’s her.
I love her.
End of story.
I’m called out on an accident a couple towns over that has me too busy putting out fires to look at the running commentary about casino night. Considering it’s ten thirty, I assume things are starting to wind down, and as I sit in the squad car, I open my text thread with Jessica to see what trouble she’s been up to.
I’d told her I’d be out of touch, but she’d continued talking without me, so there’s a lot to scroll through. I finally reach the top and begin reading, lingering on the pictures she’s sent me in various states of undress that end with her looking very hot in a little black dress I plan on ripping off her later.
I laugh at her recap of the reunion between the men and their women and her pride in the orgasms she’s facilitating.
