Page 22 of His Good Girl

“That’s my good girl,” I whisper, but her eyes are already closed again.

Unable to sleep, tossing and turning for a few hours, I finally get up around seven and head out for a run. My head is filled with memories of the morning Lexie and I ran together, and how much I wish she were by my side now. Is there any conceivable way that we can be together and it doesn’t blow up in both our faces? I debate that question the rest of my run.

When I step through the French doors, I'm brought up short at the sight of Alexis. Her hair is a wreck, and mascara is smeared on her face, but she's still devastatingly beautiful in the soft morning light. She's sitting at the table, clutching a steaming mug of coffee like a lifeline. She gives me a sheepish smile, and I note she's still in my shirt, then I wonder if that fact has registered for her yet.

“Good morning.” Her voice is scratchy and she winces.

I try to hide my laugh behind a smile but the glare she sends my way is proof that I didn’t fool her one bit. “Sorry, Alexis.” I put both hands up in front of me in mock surrender.

“Ugh, I need a shower. And brush my teeth ten times. Your daughter tried to kill me last night,” she moans.

I lean against the counter, watching her. “Yeah? It looked like you were having a pretty good time to me.” My words have more edge than I meant them too, but fuck, I'm jealous right now.

“I guess I deserve that, Finn. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I had way too much to drink, and I was missing you, and it was stupid, I know. But there it is…” I just stare at her. She was missing me. She was missing me. It feels good and horrible all at the same time, because I was missing her too. The silence stretches between us while my eyes are still locked on her.

“Okay. Any who.” She breaks the silence that was getting awkward. “I guess, I'll go take a shower.” She stands then looks down at herself like she just realized what she's wearing. And I stand there staring at her, like a total douche. But I know if I open my mouth right now, I'll say something I shouldn’t. Her shoulders slump and she spins. I watch her disappear up the stairs, the round globes of her ass peeking out of the bottom of my T-shirt. The sight a is reminder that she isn’t wearing any panties. The red G string I found on my floor is now in my nightstand drawer with the other pair I kept from our night together.

I don’t let myself think about it anymore. I follow my instincts and chase after her. I step into the room she's using and close the door behind me. She whirls on me, her face flushed and fists clenched at her sides, like she's ready to fight.

“I chartered a fucking plane and raced home as soon as I saw that picture, Alexis.” She searches my face, her eyes darting between mine. Looking so vulnerable like she's ready for me to tear her down and hurt her.

“It drove me crazy thinking about you at that club dancing and drinking. Imagining other guys putting their hands on you.” I close the distance between us until we’re standing toe to toe, and I gaze down at her. “It drove me out of my fucking mind, Lex.” The words are a whisper, my lips just inches from hers.

“I didn’t dance with any guys. I couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else touching me. Not after I’ve felt your hands on me.” Our lips meet and I reach a hand up to gently tilt her head back for better access as I deepen the kiss. It isn’t a particularly long kiss, but it feels so heavy. Like we’re both saying all the things we have left unsaid—all the things we can’t say.

I press my forehead to hers, holding her loosely. “I’m glad you’re here, Alexis.”

I give her one more chaste kiss before pulling back, noting the mix of shock and relief on her face. Heading for the door, I toss out over my shoulder, “You’re welcome for the shirt, by the way.” The shirt smacks the back of my head, and I laugh as I watch her naked backside disappear into the bathroom.

Looking around, I spot a notepad and pen on the desk. I scribble a quick note then leave it and the shirt on the bed before heading back downstairs to make breakfast with a huge smile on my face.

28

ALEXIS

That shower was one of the best of my life. When I walked into the bathroom and got a glimpse of my hair and face, I groaned in embarrassment. I can’t believe Finn saw me looking like a drowned sewer rat! The fact that he still kissed me while I looked like that has to say something, right? Toweling my hair, I make my way back into the bedroom and stop short when I spot the T-shirt folded up on the bed with a bright pink sticky note on top.

Keep the shirt, it looks way better on you!

I grab the shirt and hug it to me, suddenly very grateful that I'll be living in my own place soon and can wear this to sleep in every night. I tuck the shirt into the bottom of my bag and get ready for the day.

I can’t help the bark of laughter that bursts from me when I enter the kitchen and see Marcee at the table. Her hair is a ratted mess, she's wearing old baggy sweats and a hoodie, with her forehead pressed to the table. She sends me a one finger salute without ever lifting her head.

“Well, good morning to you too, sunshine,” I quip. “Regretting those extra rounds of shots?”

“Why aren’t you dying too?” It comes out through a moan as she lifts her head and squints at me.

“Well first, because I can hold my alcohol unlike you, obviously. Second, you stole my shots for the last two rounds, so you had four more than me, love.”

Finn’s head whips to me and I shrug mouthing, “She’s fine,” to him. He shakes his head then goes back to stirring whatever is on the stove.

“I offered to make eggs but Marcee turned a bit green when she heard that. And when I started my smoothie, she threw a magazine at me. So, here we are, biscuits and gravy coming up.” Finn speaks softly, not turning from the stove.

“Yummm, perfect hangover breakfast.” I smile, breathing in the smell of the sausage and fresh biscuits. Finn just raises a brow, looking at me over his shoulder.

“There’s this diner a few blocks from campus and they start selling Bs & Gs each morning at three a.m. Works like a charm.” Finn’s eyes are wide, staring at me like I’m insane. Shrugging at his look of shock, I walk over to look at the gravy.

“Someone shut her up, please,” Marcee grinds out, making me smile more. When I look up, Finn is still staring at me with the spoon in his hand paused midair.