I catch her, laughing, and I breathe her in. “Hello, baby.”
“Hollywood,” she sighs into my neck. Her voice is rough like gravel, as if seeing me is too much. Her legs hold me a fraction harder than is needed to stay up, and she breathes me in.
“Fuck, I missed you,” I say, holding her tighter. She fits around me perfectly, like she was created with me in mind.
“What?” I ask, stepping back and shutting the door when she doesn’t speak or move.
She shakes her head, and that’s when I feel something damp against my skin.
“You’re crying. Indie, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I missed you. I missed you so much, Spence.”
She would never ask me to stay here but this is the closest I’ve felt her wanting to.
“Hey, tell me what’s up.” I run my hand up her back, the other under her perfect butt, and I carry her into the living room. “We’re going to talk now.”
Taking a deep breath, she slides down me and with her head bowed, and she wipes her tears away. When she looks up, there’s a smile on her face. “I can think of something better to do?”
Tempting. Very, very tempting.
“Indie…”
“Okay, I had an emotional moment. I’m allowed those. I’ve missed you, and you didn’t tell me you were coming home today.”
I step closer until her chest presses against mine. “You really missed me, huh?” I ask, stroking my fingers down her cheek. I can’t touch her enough. She’s real. She’s here. She’s perfect.
“Like crazy. I love that we’re together but this long-distance stuff is not easy.”
“Still think you can do it?”
Her eyes stare into mine, and I see what Mila means. There’s fresh sadness there. “Yes, I can do it.”
Is that because of me? We finally sort ourselves out and get back together but it’s not conventional. We won’t be able to spend every day together. We won’t wake up in the same bed every morning.
“Good. I don’t think I could ever let you go.”
She wraps her arms around me, and my name is a whisper on her lips.
I press a kiss to the top of her head and hold her. “Tell me you’re not busy this week… and until January.”
“Is that how long you’re home for?”
“I leave January twelfth. Until then, I’m all yours.”
Her smile widens. “I’ll take that.”
“And in February you’ll come to me? You have a half-term then, right?”
She presses her lips together. “I’ll have to see what my work schedule is like, but I could probably make a long weekend work.”
“A really long one. I want to show you everything out there.”
Laughing, she sighs. “You got it. Now, are we going to your bedroom or not?” Her eyes widen. “Wait! Where are your parents?”
“Oh, we’re going to my bedroom.” I bend down and sweep her into my arms. “Parents are out. Prepare for a lot of orgasms.”
Thirty-Four
Indie
Well, he certainly wasn’t talking himself up.
I’m lying in Spencer’s bed, absolutely spent after three orgasms. His parents have gone out to dinner and to watch a movie. Spencer’s is still in the cinemas. I bet they end up watch that again. They’ll probably be home soon, but I can’t seem to force myself to get up.
Best surprise ever was him opening that door. I was so relieved to see him. Now I won’t be alone, I can breathe.
Being with him is addictive.
There is nothing to fear in my house anymore, but I still don’t like being there.
Mum is doing well. Her treatment was hard at first, but she’s much more positive now. I visited for the first time.
We cried and talked, avoiding the loaded topic of our past and present, but it was nice to talk rubbish and drink tea. I didn’t know how nice, actually. She picked some hymns for Dad’s funeral. It will only be her and me singing them. Dad will be buried on January fourth. It’s the first date we could get.
Mum was shocked that it would take so long, but actually it gives her more time to heal before we say goodbye. The risk of relapse is lessened if she’s stronger. She hinted at still being there then. I don’t care how long it takes; we’ll pay for whatever treatment necessary.
I’ll leave if she starts again. I won’t have any other choice.
Spencer lazily draws patterns on my arm with his fingertips, bringing me back to him. I’m used to living a rollercoaster: highs with my friends and lows with my parents. The ride seems faster now.
“LA is dumb.”
He laughs. “The distance is dumb.”
“Yeah, fine.”
“I’m here now.’
For a month. How am I going to spend so much time with him and then say goodbye? We’ll sink into a routine, seeing each other every day, and then he’ll go. It’s more time than I thought I’d get, though.
I don’t know what’s worse. Weekends together here and there, or a solid amount of time.
“How long do we have before your parents are home? I don’t want to be up here when they get back.”
His eyes sparkle. “They know we have sex.”
“Yes, they heard.”
I squeeze my eyes closed and try to force the memory away. Neither of them said anything—they didn’t need to.
He laughs again. “Indie, they really don’t care.”
“I do, remember? Let’s get up. I’m hungry, anyway.”
“Ah, yes, you were promised dinner.”
“Uh-huh, and all I got was my boyfriend.”
His lips press together, suppressing a smile. “How awful for you.”
I just used the B word.
“It’s okay. He’s pretty big in America. Here, too, since his movie came out in cinemas.”
“The only thing I care about being big in is you.”
Gasping, I sit up. “How crude. Come on, time to feed me.”
“All right.” He groans, getting up and putting his clothes back on.
I do the same, making sure to flatten my hair so the bird’s nest doesn’t give us away. Spencer turns to me
