Faint traces of bourbon and vanilla waft up, smelling like him.
My stomach twists into knots. It feels too much, stepping into a place that holds his sleep, his quiet, his solitude. I shouldn’t be here, but I have this strange sensation of not wanting to be anywhere else.
I slip into the small adjoining bathroom and turn on the light. The mirror shows my flushed cheeks and wild hair from the helmet. I splash cool water on my face, scrubbing until I feel more stable. My makeup smudges into faint shadows, but I don’t mind.
Tugging on the oversized T-shirt I shoved into my bag at the last second, the one with a cartoon raccoon sprawled across the front, bold letters readingToo Cool For U; it hangs loose over my thighs, the soft cotton tickling my skin.
Ridiculous and entirely me.
I catch sight of myself in the mirror again, groaning, and mumble to myself, “I’m a sexy bitch, I know.”
Shutting off the bathroom lights, I pad back over into his bedroom and sink into Reed’s bed. His mattress is plush, smelling faintly likehim—before I can let myself delve into the way he smells, instinctively clenching my thighs, my phone lights up, buzzing against the worn, wooden nightstand.
I turn over, grabbing my phone as the screen lights up, flooding my phone with text messages from my unhinged group chat with my girls.
Catalina
Okay, but where are you STAYING tonight? You didn’t say anything to us, bitch.
I chew my lip, grin, and type.
Layla
ummm.. Reed’s place.
My phone instantly pings.
Catalina
EXCUSE THE FUCK OUT OF ME.
Amelia
WHAT THE FUCK.
Catalina
WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY ANYTHING AT THE BAR?!
Amelia
We were literally RIGHT THERE.
I snort, my thumbs flying across the screen.
Layla
Because you were too busy in your love fest with your husbands. Didn’t want to intrude.
Catalina
BITCH. You sound so dumb
Amelia
Pregnant. Carrying my six-foot-eight husband’s baby. My ankles look like balloons. My pelvis feels like it’s been split in two.
Amelia
