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“And an ass. Let’s not forget that.”
“But you’re turning into an adorable ass.”
“Your favorite ass,” I suggest.
She laughs, delighted. “That’s right.”
Pleased, I rock us a
little. “What will you do, stuck here, in this backwater with me?”
“I have some ideas.” She shifts on top of my dick, smirking, and I gasp. “Yeah, I think we’ll find something to do.”
“Luna.” I stare at her in mock horror. “I’ve created a monster.”
“Your monster.” She sticks her tongue out to me. “Your favorite monster.”
“You bet.”
She’s quiet after that, relaxing against me. Eventually, she says, “Will you stay here, in this house?”
“Where else could I go?”
“I was thinking... to ask Dad and Josh if we could adopt you.”
I frown at her. “What do you mean?”
“Have you come stay with us. Would you like that?”
I hesitate. “I’m sure your family is great, when not throwing rocks at me, that is... but wouldn’t they mind the fact that I’d be fucking you under the same roof? Because I will,” I growl and crush my mouth to hers in a short, bruising kiss. “Tonight I’m beat, but there’s no way I’ll sleep beside you and not get you naked, no chance I won’t spend the night inside you.”
She shivers, eyes going dark. “Yeah, I see how that could be an issue,” she drawls, and makes me laugh.
More beats of silence and quiet. I don’t realize I’ve dozed off until she shifts, and a dream of blood and Dad’s angry face breaks into pieces, then crumbles into dust.
“You okay?” she whispers.
AmI? I’m still damn shaken. Earlier today I was sure I’d spend the rest of my life in prison, and now I’m back on this goddamn porch with nightmares about my dad.
Just peachy.
But I have her, so I have everything I need. Tomorrow will be better, and for the first time, the end of Summer doesn’t scare me, the coming of Winter doesn’t seem like a frozen cliff inviting me to fall over to my death.
“Ross.” Her hand rests on my face, light and soft, her eyes concerned. “What is it?”
That’s when I realize I haven’t replied to her. “I’m okay. Tired.”
Not a lie.
“I know it’s hard for you to be here,” she whispers. “That’s why I thought of bringing you home with me.”
I haul her closer.
“I think of your mom sometimes,” she says then, and I go still. “Of you as a child. It reminds me that I should appreciate what I have now, today. I have to ask for my mom’s number, call her. Talk to her.”
“You do that,” I breathe.
“I’m sorry,” she suddenly says, “you’re exhausted, and I’m making you sad.”
