“What are you trying to say?”
“That we shouldn’t get ahead of ourselves or make rash decisions because we’re afraid. The future is terrifying. There’s never a right decision when it comes to anything.”
“I disagree.”
“Just … let’s have fun.” Her eyes soften. “I like this … being with you. I don’t want to ruin it. I don’t want to complicate it. You promised …”
She’s right.
I did.
Irie slides her hand in mine and I kiss the top, her skin cashmere-soft against my mouth.
“Goodnight, gorgeous,” I say.
She smiles, lowering her swollen lips to mine one last time for the night. “See you tomorrow.”
With that she’s gone.
I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, waiting for the emptiness to sink into my bones as I contemplate my future.
Sliding my hands behind my head, I drag in a heavy breath and close my eyes, imagining a life without her … only it’s depressing as fuck. The second I sign that contract and move out east, I’m going to be surrounded by opportunists, fame-chasers and plastic women who aspire to be nothing more than a baller’s wife.
The creak of the door pulls me out of my silent pity party, and I sit up in bed, peering across the room to a familiar shadow standing in the doorway.
“I thought you left,” I say to her.
She closes the door behind her, dropping her bag near my desk and sliding out of her shoes. “I called Aunt Bette. She doesn’t need me tonight.”
Irie tears off her clothes, stripping down to her bra and panties, and she helps herself to a t-shirt from my top drawer. I love how comfortable she is around me now, and I love it even more when she makes herself at home with me. A second later, she’s crawling into bed with me, curling under my arm and breathing me in.
A moment ago I was tired, mentally exhausted from the heaviness of the decision weighing on me, anchored by the uncertainty of what comes after graduation, bothered by knowing a life without Irie isn’t any kind of life that interests me.
And now here she is, back in my arms again, sending me high as a fucking kite.
Irie’s my drug of choice, I’m woefully addicted, and I’ve just taken another hit.
I press a kiss into the top of her strawberry-scented head and close my eyes.
I could live in this moment forever.
Chapter 27
Irie
Talon is awake before the sun comes up Friday morning, trying to quietly get his gear together for his morning workout. I stir, shifting beneath his heavy blankets before rolling to my side and watching him.
“Didn’t mean to wake you,” he says, shoving a small towel into his gym bag.
“It’s fine.” I sit up, climbing out of bed and gathering my things. “I’ll walk out with you.”
I change into last night’s clothes and head to his bathroom to freshen up. A second later we’re in the hallway of his apartment, locking up behind us before making our way to the parking lot.
Aunt Bette’s been letting me drive her Crown Victoria lately. She thought it was ridiculous that it took me almost four years to even so much as ask to borrow it for personal use, but I never wanted her to think I was taking advantage of her.
Plus this thing is ancient. If it breaks down on my watch, I won’t have the funds to pay for any repairs.
Talon takes my hand in his as we walk to the parking lot, where our cars are parked side by side—his shiny black Beemer and Aunt Bette’s fabulous maroon Ford that’s almost as old as I am.
“What’s on your window?” he asks as we get closer.
“What do you mean?” I squint through the early morning darkness and scan Aunt Bette’s car.
And then I see it.
The word “SLUT” dragged across the driver’s side glass in red lipstick.
Original …
“The fuck is wrong with people?” Talon throws his gym bag on the ground before rifling through it to grab his workout towel. A second later he’s trying to wipe the glass clean, but he’s only making it worse. The entire thing is smeared in red. “I’ll be back. I’m going to grab some Windex or something. This is bullshit, Irie. I’m sorry.”
In an instant, I’m taken back to a nearly identical incident my senior year at Iron Cross High. It’s a moment that’s stayed with me for years, despite my best efforts to erase it from my memory.
Talon disappears inside, which gives me time to fight off the wave of tears that begin to cloud my vision.
I don’t want him to see this side of me.
I don’t want to have to explain something he couldn’t possibly begin to understand.
Chapter 28
Talon
I toss an extra pair of jeans in my suitcase and zip it shut. Tomorrow I’ll be boarding a plane with Irie and Bette to Missouri for her cousin’s wedding. If I’m being honest, Missouri isn’t exactly on my bucket list, but I’m looking forward to a weekend away with her, a change of scenery, a glimpse of what life could be like outside the PVU bubble we know all too well.