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“Yes, I do. We had to get Luna to drive us home because I couldn’t even count to five. I’ve showered, cooked breakfast, and am about to log into a zoom meeting.”
“You’re a showoff,” she complains, smacking his chest with a sly grin.
“Okay, would the two of you lovesick fools leave me alone?”
Mom says something back, but I ignore her to text Jessa back.
Me:Sorry, Mom was questioning me about last night. The woman is relentless when she’s hungover and grumpy.
Jessa:What did you say?”
Me:Nothing, I went to sleep, and that’s it. What do you expect me to say? Oh, hey Mom, so I fucked Jessa three times and four blissful orgasms later, she went home.
Jessa:I think you should’ve said that just to goad a reaction from her.
Me:Such a daredevil… so tonight?
Jessa:Pick me up at seven from Mom’s.
Me:Have fun today, and hey… I love you.
Jessa:Back at you, baby.
* * *
So I can say hello to Bentley before we leave, I park my Wrangler out the front of Jessa's mom's house and knock on the door.
Jessa answers the door, dressed in a very short skirt which catches my attention, a far cry from her usual attire worn in England. It’s denim, matched with a camel-colored tank and wedges to give her height. At least, that’s what I used to tease her about.
“My eyes are up here, just so you know,” she muses.
“Yes, but I’m interested in what’s down there, just soyouknow.”
Jessa grins, pulling me in as Bentley crawls toward me. I bend down, picking him up.
“A... An... dee,” he finally gets out.
“It’s Andy.” Jessa smiles, moving his hair away from his face.
“A man bun would look good on this kid.”
“You know me too well.” She laughs.
Morgan walks down the hall, saying hello before offering to take Bentley for his bath and then get him ready for bed. We say goodbye and head out to my car.
“God, this car brings back so many memories.”
“She’s a keeper.”
Jessa furrows her brows. “She had a name… Greta?”
“Gerta,” I correct her.
As soon as we’re in the car, I glance over to make sure the front door is closed, then place my hand on Jessa’s thigh to bury my head into the crook of her neck.
“We can’t here,” Jessa says in a high pitch as my hand runs up her thigh and beneath her skirt. “What if someone sees us?”
“Fine,” I drag, pulling back. “So, am I supposed to behave throughout dinner?”
