I think about doing exactly that. Actually, fantasize is probably a better word.
I fantasize about waking up in my bed with Briar in my arms. I think about waking up in her bed in her new apartment, just like this.
I let my mind wander and picture when I’m playing professionally in Nashville, how fucking amazing it would feel to wake up in my new apartment with her sleeping peacefully in my arms.
I think about a house someday. A big house with a big bed—bigger than the one I have now.
We’re a little older. But we’re still cuddled together. Our limbs are still tangled when we wake up. Her head is still on my chest every time she falls asleep. And my heart still beats faster when I wake up and see her with me.
I love her.
The realization isn’t instant. More like a feeling that’s been lingering inside of me always, and I just now put a name to it.
Of course I love Briar. I’ve always loved her.
Even when we were friends. Even when we were teenagers, and I didn’t have the words to explain why she was my favorite person. Why I felt more comfortable around her than anyone. Why one laugh or one smile from her made my whole damn day. Why, when we both left for college and couldn’t see each other for months at a time, my chest felt like it was going to crack in half, and it never went away until I saw her in person again.
It didn’t matter how many times I told myself she was just a friend, or how many times I tried to ignore those times when I wished we could be more.
She’s it for me. She always has been.
She moves slightly in her sleep, then opens her eyes.
She aims that sleepy gaze up at me, her mouth curving up in a cute smile.
My heart explodes. I love herso much.
“Good morning,” she says, her voice sweet and a little raspy from sleep.
“Morning.”
I give her a soft kiss. My pulse hammers with the urge to tell her how I feel.
But I hold back. Not yet. She’s coming out of a relationship and took a huge step by saying that she wanted us to be official.
If I spill my feelings to her right now, I’ll scare her off. I could lose her.
Dread rattles through me at the thought of losing Briar.
I’ll take it slow. I’ll tell her after we’ve been together a few months.
“How are you feeling?” I ask. “Are you sore?”
“A little.” Her sleepy smile widens. “But it’s a good sore. I like it.”
I raise my eyebrow at her. “Really?”
“Yeah. I like knowing that I’m sore because you stretched me out. It’s kind of hot.”
I can’t help but grin at the way she puts it.
“Besides, the more we have sex, the more I’ll get used to your size.” She tilts her face up to kiss me.
Our tongues tangle, getting filthier by the second.
My cock stiffens, and she reaches down to wrap her silky fingers around my hardness.
I groan and gently push her hand away. “Not yet.”
