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Suddenly, there's frantic knocking at my door, and I scowl to myself, not knowing who would be here to interrupt my brooding. No one ever visits me. It's probably some neighbor wanting to borrow a cup of sugar or some fucking shit I'm not in the mood for.
I ignore the knocking, but it becomes more insistent.
I curse and stomp over to swing open the door, ready to tell whoever it is to go straight to hell, but then I stop, all the breath leaving my chest when I see who it is.
Jenny.
She's standing there in my doorway, every lean little inch of inch of her, her straight blonde hair flowing down to her waist, her emerald green eyes looking up at me. Her cinnamon and apples scent is already enveloping me, and my eyes are drawn to her lips. They’re not painted ruby red today. They’re her natural puffy pink.
She's beautiful, and all I can do is stand there and drink her in.
Her angry voice breaks into my reverie. "I know what the fuck you're doing, Nicholas, and it completely unacceptable."
My eyes widen as I stare down at her. "What the fuck are you talking about?" How does she know where I live? Did she really come all the way over her to give me a tongue thrashing?
"I spoke to my father, and he finally confessed everything. You're staying away from me because you think you're not good enough for me." Her eyes are glistening with tears now, and her lips are trembling.
A tear escapes and begins making a trail down her cheek, and my chest tightens. I reach out to wipe it away. "Don't cry, baby," I plead with her. I can't stand to see her cry. I want her to be her happy, bubbly, carefree self.
"I won't if you don't make me!" she wails before she flings herself into my arms.
I wrap my arms around her and hold her tightly to me, my body finally settling now that she's back in my arms. Fuck, she feels so right. I don't know if I can do this.
"Jenny, you're father's right. I'll never be good enough for you," I try to make her see reason even as I tighten my arms around her, pulling her even closer to me, my body in contradiction with my words.
She ignores me as she pulls back just enough to look up into my eyes, "I love you, Nick."
I go completely still, and I can hear my heart beating in my ears as I stare down into her gorgeous green eyes.
Their shining with the truth. Somehow, against all odds, this gorgeous girl loves me. I could die right now and be a happy man.
I continue to stare down at her, warring with myself. I told myself I was staying away from her for her own good, but she came back to me. She’s crying without me. She’s not happy without me. I’m fucking miserable and downright suicidal without her.
I’m not doing anything but making us both miserable, so to hell with it.
"Fuck it, you're mine," I tell her as I cup her face with both hands and stare directly into her eyes. "I love you so fucking much, Jenny. I'd do any fucking thing for you. Even give you up if you wanted me to, though I think it would fucking kill me." My voice sounds as broken as that thought makes me feel.
Ever the little imp, she knows how to lighten things up and make me laugh. Her smile is mischievous, and her eyes are twinkling teasingly when she says, "That's a lot of swearing for someone who's supposed to be a saint, Saint Nick."
I throw my head back and laugh. God, I've missed her and her smart mouth. I was a fool to think I'd ever really be able to live without her.
"Yes, Jennifer," I tease her back when I've finally got myself under control.
"It's Jenny, Nicholas," she pouts prettily.
And then I kiss her, unable to keep from tasting her any longer.
"I'm fucking obsessed with you. You know that? I want to worship every fucking inch of you," I say in between nibbling on her lips.
"Then, do it," she mewls back at me.
And who am I to deny her anything?
