“I’m still mad at you,” she says. It still makes me laugh how she can say that with a straight face while climbing into my lap, wearing the shirt she stole from my closet and nothing else.
“Oh, comeon, Scar. It wasoneepisode. I can watch it again if you want me to,” I groan, pulling her into me. We’ve been rewatchingModern Familyand even though we’ve both seen it a million times, she plotted to kill me if I watched an episode without her. I didn’t mean to do it, but it came on and it was a good fucking episode. “You can’t stay mad at me forever.”
“I can and I will.”
“Even if I kiss you?” I say, trailing my hands underneath my —her— shirt.
“Even if you kiss me, Ev,” she replies. She’s gotten better at the whole ‘your proximity does nothing to me’ over the last few weeks. At the beginning, every touch was so sensitive, but as she’s got used to it, she’s also better at hiding how much I affect her and how much she loses control.
“You’re still calling me ‘Ev.’ That’s a good sign,” I say, looking at the positives.
“That’s because your name has too many syllables,” she says proudly, holding up her head high. We’ve had this argument before and she somehow managed to win.
“It has two,” I challenge.
“Yeah. Two too many,” she says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. I laugh at her as she continues to rub my shoulders gently.
“Scarlett,tesoro, you’re ridiculous,” I say.
“But you love ridiculous, don’t you, Branson? You wouldn’t be able to live without my ridiculousness. What’s ridiculous is how you thinkI’mridiculous,” she rambles, sounding, well…ridiculous.
“Say ‘ridiculous’ one more time and your ass is going to be red and raw,” I warn.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Ev,” she retorts, leaning into me as she whispers, “That.” She kisses my neck. “Would be.” She kisses my jaw until she gets to my ear as she rasps, “Ridiculous.”
I’m about to go in to kiss her, finally tasting what she’s been edging me on for since I got to her apartment, but her room door bursts open.
It’s been harder than ever to get a moment of privacy in this apartment, but we still try every time. Kennedy and Wren don’t seem to mind the whole ‘walking in on your best friend while he sucks off her boyfriend’ and it’s slightly concerning.
Scarlett snaps her head to the door where Kennedy walked through. She’s covering her eyes with one hand, her other arm searching aimlessly for Scarlett’s closet.
“Jesus, Ken, what are you doing?” she asks.
“My eyes are closed,” Kennedy squeals. “I’m just looking for the battery for my camera.”
“Why would it be in my closet?” Scarlett asks.
“I dunno,” she says, “A lot of stuff ends up in here.”
“That’s true,” I say, kissing my girl on the neck, but she climbs off me, walking over to her friend. My button down is long enough to cover her ass, but if she’s not careful she’s going to flash someone. Me, hopefully.
“What’s going on, Ken?” Scarlett asks. Kennedy turns to her, her eyes still squeezed shut. “I’m decent.” She looks back to me, giving me a once-over. “He’s decent. Just open your eyes.”
She peaks behind her fingers first, not fully trusting us. When she sees it’s safe, she drops her hand with a sigh, looking Scarlett in the eye as she says, “I’m going home.”
“What do you mean,home?This is your home,” Scarlett says, confused.
“I meanhomehome,” she replies. I don’t know if I’m supposed to be here for this, so I get up off the bed. As I do, Scarlett turns around, sending me a death stare and I sit back down.Okay.
“South Carolina home?” Scarlett asks.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Only for the summer. I’ll still be finishing fourth year, but then depending on how I feel… I might go back for good.”
This doesn’t sound good for any of us.
