Page 210 of Cloudy With a Chance of Bad Decisions

And George still wanted me.

George who was—who waseverythingI’d written off as a fantasy.

Welcoming, warm, and icy when necessary. He invited me behind his walls, not because they weren’t important, but because he trusted me not to betray him. He welcomed me into his body like it was a privilege to have me there. Like he wanted me as desperately as I wanted him. Like our need for one another was equal.

And as I filled him, my heart filled as well.

I’d never understood when people called fucking “making love.” It seemed like such a silly, cheesy, stupid term. I’d had enough relationships to know that it was a myth, right along with love at first sight. Experience had taught me my lofty dreams of the romantic were naive and ridiculous. I’d written off the term entirely.

And yet…now I was a believer.

Because as George and I shared breath. As our two became one, as I held andcherishedand caressed him. As his nails raked down my back, heels at my hamstrings, I could acknowledge thatthis…this was not “fucking”.

It wasn’t.

As ridiculous-awful-fanciful-naive as that sounded.

And in that moment, we weren’t two star-crossed lovers, destined to part. We weren’t a summer fling. Weren’t “practice boyfriends”, a fond memory—something that would eventually fade into sepia, with disintegrating, well-loved edges.

Here and now, my world started and ended with Georgie.

MyGeorgie.

As we made love.

For what might be the only time.

And for the first time in almost a decade, I let myself be naive. I let the romantic in me awaken. I let the young man who’d been crushed by disappointment again and again break free from the walls where I’d shackled him.

For this one perfect morning, I let myself believe that there was nothing wrong with dreaming of happy endings.

The romantic in me could die tomorrow.

But today, I’d let him live.

Alex’s dad was pretty much his older, more silver doppelganger. Which was as shocking as it was…ah…stimulating. I couldn’t stop stealing glances in the rearview mirror. Every time I did, my cheeks became more red.

Alex…because he wasAlex, found the whole thing incredibly funny.

He’d clocked my attraction the second his dad had exited his front door dressed in a charcoal three-piece suit—a suit that perfectly complemented the gray in his hair. Honestly, it wasn’t my fault. I’d have to be dead not to notice his dad was good-looking.

And besides…there was somethingextraattractive about the fact it felt as though I was catching a glimpse of what Alex might look like in a few years, silver at his temples, laugh lines around his eyes and mouth.

I felt robbed that I’d never see that.

“Are you sure you don’t want the front?” I confirmed as we pulled into a gas station. I’d already offered what felt like fifty times, but it genuinely feltwrong to be sitting in the passenger seat. I didn’t want to relegate Mr. James to the back. It felt disrespectful.

“I’m sure.” Alex’s dad was entertained. His eyes danced the same way Alex’s did, lips curled up. “Though I am a bit parched.”

“Oh! Right.” I unbuckled. Before I could even touch the door handle, the older gentleman was shaking his head. I paused, confused.

“Alex?”

“Yeah, yeah. Iced tea and lemonade. I know, old man.” He rolled his eyes good-naturedly, shoving his own door open. He was dressed in blue jeans today. Jeans that cupped his thighs so obscenely they should be arrested. The outline of his cock was difficult to ignore—easier, knowing his dad was nearby.

Still challenging though.

Especially when my ass was a little sore from sitting on it.

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