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Sabrina
Irarely take my mother up on her many offers to spend the day being pampered. They generally come along with a guarantee of a day spent listening to her complain about every aspect of my appearance.
“Sabrina, you need to take better care of yourself if you want to catch anyone’s attention.”
“Sabrina, your skin is looking dull, dear. You don’t want to look sickly on camera.”
“Sabrina, highlights would really freshen up your face.”
I’m nineteen years old. How unfresh can I possibly look?
When my mother called me last night to inform me that her friend Jillian had to back out of the spa day they had scheduled for today, I actually jumped at the chance to take her spot. What damage could getting pampered do? I may also have wanted to make sure I looked my best for tonight. But no need to mention that to Mother Dearest.
We met this morning at her favorite spa in Center City in Philadelphia, and I have to begrudgingly admit it was heavenly. The only thing that could have possibly made the day more enjoyable would have been if I didn’t have to listen to my mother blather on all day about letting myself go.
Seriously? Split ends are not the devil, and manicures are not at the top of my to-do list. But after four hours, I’ve been cut and colored, buffed and polished, massaged and waxed to within an inch of my life, and I didn’t hate every minute of it.
We even stopped to do a little shopping, and I picked up the softest cashmere sweater to wear tonight. It’s a pretty, slouchy, cream-colored sweater that falls off one shoulder and looks killer with my dark blue skinny jeans and my cute brown opened-toed booties. Gotta show off the newly painted, pretty dark purple color sparkling on my toes.
Now, here I am, back at my dorm, and I’m a little nervous. I don’t know what to expect tonight. Murphy texted me when they’d just gotten on the plane to fly home. He said he’d let me know when they landed. Nattie and Chloe road-tripped up to Boston this weekend to do a girls’ weekend. They were texting throughout the game, so I know it was a wet, cold, windy mess of a day. I selfishly hope that he doesn’t bail on me tonight, but I guess I won’t be surprised if he does.
I’m trying to convince myself to stop messing with my hair when Murphy’s next text comes through.
Murphy: Buses just pulled up to the school. See you in a minute, Princess. Pack your toothbrush.
Sabrina: Anything else?
Murphy: Nope. You won’t be needing anything else.
Sabrina: K. See you in a minute. I’ll wait downstairs.
Murphy: Don’t you fucking dare. I’ll be at your door. Stay put.
Sabrina: Awful bossy, Murph.
Murphy: Yup. And I’ll bet you’re wet for me already. See you in a minute.
Damn, this man. I grab my overnight bag from my bed and head for the door. For a moment, I contemplate waiting for him downstairs just to rile him up but decide against it. I kinda like bossy Murphy.
Instead, I take a seat in my desk chair and scroll social media. Nattie and Chloe look like they’re having a great time in Boston. The guys have all posted about today’s win, and all the jersey chasers have been commenting. Looks like there’s a party tonight at the football house again.
I wonder if we’re going. Murphy didn’t mention anything.
The heavy knock on my door pulls me from the rabbit hole of social media I so easily get lost in. The sight that greets me when I open the door has my mouth watering.
Aiden Murphy is standing in front of me in a navy blue, tailored suit with a crisp white shirt stretching across his muscled shoulders and chest. His grey and blue polka-dotted tie is hanging loose. His hair is messy, and his smile is deadly. “Good girl. You waited up here like I asked you to.”
I lean in, grabbing that tie and pulling him down to me. “More like what you told me to.” I quickly kiss his lips before I can let my nerves catch hold. “But that’s okay. I like it when you take charge.”
Murphy wraps both arms around my back and anchors me to him. He’s searching my eyes, but I’m not sure what he’s looking for. He must be content with the answers he finds there because he leans in slowly and kisses me more tenderly than I’m expecting. Murph pulls back slightly and nods toward the bag at my feet. “You bringing that?”
“Yes.” It comes out more breathless than I intended.
“Awful big for a toothbrush.” He picks up the bag with one hand and laces our fingers together with the other as he guides me to the glass door of my building. “Looks like it’s starting to rain. Guess it followed us home. You okay to make a run for it? I can pull the car up.”
I squeeze his fingers in mine, liking the feel of his calloused hands against my soft skin. Walking through the door, I pull him outside with me. “I don’t mind a little rain.” I try to pull away to run for it, but Murphy holds my hand tight and takes off with me. We race to the oversized SUV, and he opens my door as I jump up into the passenger seat.
Rough hands reach for my face seconds before his mouth claims mine. The rain pounds out a staccato rhythm against the roof of the car and I get completely lost in this moment. The feel of his hands against my skin, the minty taste of his tongue, and the citrusy scent of Murphy overwhelm my senses. When Murphy pulls back, a satisfied smile sits on his handsome face, and I am a melted pile of goo. “I’ve been waiting to do that for hours, Princess.”
