Page 88

Four months for him to decide that I’m too much to handle.

Four months for him to decide that there isn’t enough room for me in his life. That I’m not a good fit for his little family.

I don’t trust time not to take him away from me.

I should leave. I should.

But after our hearts slow and he cleans us off, he whispers to me, “Just four months.”

The last thing I see before I close my eyes, cocooned in his arms with my back pressed to his chest is the window.

He wakes me up with his mouth on my neck; I feel his smile before I even open my eyes. “You look pretty in the morning,” he murmurs. “I have to get Penny up. Get us ready.”

It’s not until we share a kiss and I watch him climb out of bed to get dressed. It’s not until after he says he’ll see me in a minute that I crawl around to gather my clothes. The morning sunlight watches me slide the screen of the window closed behind me and follows me all the way back home.

Emerson

To: EBStyles

From: DMont95

Subject: Ouch

You snuck out. I guess I shouldn't complain, and I'm not even surprised. We'll do this your way then, Emerson.

Four months.

Bitches & Bros

Ian: are we absolutely POSITIVE it's not drugs

Z: *sigh*

Warren: what now???

Jesse: uh oh

Ian: have you seen the bags bro is carrying around under his eyes? And I made a dick joke and he didn't even call me a dumbass

Z: you're a dumbass. There, feel better?

I'm LITERALLY in this chat.

Ian: oh…hi, em. You okay?

STOP ASKING ME THAT

Ian: :(

“It's been eighty-four years,” I groan whilst refreshing my inbox again. Just in case.

“Give me that,” Finn snaps, prying the device from my fingers. I will neither confirm nor deny whether I snarl at him like a wounded animal. Or a deranged, rabid one. “It has not been eighty-four years. It's been two weeks. Get a little dick, and now you're foaming at the mouth for more.”

I scoff, sitting up in his bed that I non-dramatically flailed around in not even five minutes ago. Finn is half-dressed for our night out, and I honestly don't even fucking wanna. I want to make pizza rolls and frozen mozzarella sticks and eat them all without pants on while watching a sad movie. But apparently, I've been doing exactly that too much recently.

“His dick is not little, Finnegan. It's big, and veiny and curves ever so slightly…”

“Up, yes, I know. I feel like I probably shouldn't know, but here we are.” My friend sighs and tucks my phone in his nightstand, ignoring my glare. “I also know that you've been refreshing your inbox for any signs of life from him for two weeks.”