Page 77 of Pieces of Us

My eyes mist over his selfless words.

‘I love you, Jag.’

‘Love you, too.’ Kissing the side of my head, he then burrows his head into my neck, nuzzling me. ‘Now swim away, before I break all the promises I’ve made to you, myself and Linc.’ He pumps his rock-hard groin into mine, letting me know my bare breasts and exposed ass are making him horny.

Laughing, I push away and splash him.

The rest of our afternoon is spent leisurely swimming, drying off and taking content for our respective profiles.

Despite my prickly issues with my body, Jagger always knows the right angles to take. He is the definition of an Instagram boyfriend. Sitting on the edge of the rock edge, I pull my knees up to my chin, resting my arms and head on them. From this angle, it looks like I’m naked with the water in the background. Another cheeky one he takes is his hand grasping my ass. Only part of my back can be seen and the scrap of G-string in between my cheeks. Of course, I return the favour, and capture all the girl-porn worthy images of him.

First, he swims underneath the waterfall, finding a small island to stand on. Tilting his head back, I snap a picture of him gliding his hand down just beneath his shorts. Obviously, they are wet and stuck to him like a second skin. He is blessed in the cock department, being both a shower and a grower, so of course his package looks like he has the perfect pecker.It is erotic as fuck, and I know it will make worldwide news when he uploads. Another photo I take of him is up close, of the droplets of water racing down his drool-worthy chest. The female population can thank me later.

When the sun starts fading behind the canopy of trees, we find our winding way back to the resort. As we get farther away from the waterfall, the day’s rays dip lower. It reminds me that we’re closing a chapter in our friendship, which is bittersweet.

Chapter 30

Soak Me In Bleach

Lincoln

I’ve been a nervous wreck all week. Between tamping down my hypocrisy of wanting to call Amity out on fucking Jagger and then seeing them on holiday together, looking like they’re having the time of their lives, I’m surprised I have any hair left.

‘Addiction’ and ‘obsession’ aren’t strong enough words to describe what I’ve been doing over the past few days. I’m going to need physiotherapy for my thumbs, thanks to my incessant scrolling on their social media.

I am seething with envy over the experiences they got to share together, from snorkelling the Great Barrier Reef, to the scenic flights they took over the islands, to the luxurious spa and beach days they seemed to have together. A picture says a thousand words, and all of theirs scream sex, sex, sex.

In one image, Amity, Jagger, Rome and Lily are all lying naked on their stomachs getting massaged. In another, Amity and Lily are posing topless, holding up coconuts to their chests. There’s a pic of Jagger jumping off a cliff into the ocean naked, but the one that really riled me up was a solo photo of Amity, looking over the infinity pool towards the sea. I couldn’t see her profile, but I could tell she was naked from the waist up and a string of floss was centred between her crack. She may well have been stark naked, because nothing was left to the imagination. Of course, I was wrong that nothing more could rile me up, because just before they all arrived back, both she and Jagger uploaded pretty freaking intimate and erotic photos on their grams. One where I can’t be quite sure if she was naked, and then another of his hand on her ass. How do I know it was his hand and her ass? Amity has a small strawberry birthmark on one of her cheeks, which I used to run my tongue over, and he has a tattoo of a crown on his middle finger. Of course Jagger has an impromptu Men Magazine photoshoot of him almost masterbating under a waterfall, and it doesn’t take a genius to know who took those photos of his abs up close. Lily and Rome were M.I.A. from their little rendezvous, it seems.

I feel like an outsider looking in. I don’t know who this Amity is. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, that she is so comfortable with other men who aren’t me.

All of the photos, stories, reels, clips remind me how I’m not a part of her life.

I don’t know this new version of her.

I didn’t know something as big as her daily routine, or something as small and meaningless as what her favourite drink is. There was a time when no one knew her better than me, but it seems that Jagger knows her just as well.

Needing to have faith in our connection, I reason with myself that I’ll just ask her what these pictures mean. If I’ve learned anything in the last seven or eight years, it’s not to assume anything and to communicate everything.

She got back yesterday, and today is the day that she’s focused on Jas’ journalism assignment, which gives me ample time to work out what I’ll say to her. I don’t know how close she is to Jagger’s family, but I know how much she adores mine.

Even before Amity became the world’s ‘It Girl’, she was Jas’ hero, so to see her following in similar footsteps—or wanting to—warms my heart. It shreds me that I tore them away from each other.

I wasn’t planning on stopping by Dad’s, but I want to trap her at every opportunity to hang out with me. We have a finite amount of time together before the clock strikes midnight and she turns back into the world’s sexy sweetheart.

As I stride down the familiar hallway of my childhood home, I can’t help to think about the last time we were here together.

It was right before she went away. Things were hot and heavy. We’d been having sex for a few weeks, and she’d just finished sitting on my face. We had planned to take it into my bedroom but the top stair was as far as we got. She had to rush home for dinner with her parents, so she quickly swallowed me in the hallway, gave me a kiss with my cum still lingering on her tongue, and told me she’d call me later. That night, she was told she was being shipped off to Sydney.

My home has never been the same since.

Like a hound out for blood, I go in search of Jas and Hart. Even if it’s just a glimpse, I want to just lay my eyes on her for a second. They’re in Jas’ room with the door slightly ajar. I smile at the soft lilt of Amity’s voice. I know it’s wrong to eavesdrop, but I can’t help wanting to soak up every facet of her. Peeking in, ensuring I’m not seen, I spot them both casually lying back on Jas’ bed. Amity has her hands resting softly on her tummy while Jas has her notebook full of questions parked on her knees. An iPhone sits between, no doubt on record to capture Amity’s answers.

Jas is more quiet than usual, her brows furrowed. I can’t say for sure, but it looks as if her eyes are red-rimmed, while Amity seems to be sorrowfully wistful.

‘Are you sure you want to talk about this…and, um, trust me?’ Uneasiness spills from Jas’ lips, stopping my heart at her words.

Shrugging, Amity nods. ‘You said you needed to do an expose?’ She looks downcast, almost crestfallen.

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