Page 28 of Overdue Feelings
Her body jerked again, and I leaned in, holding her up and helping her take all of him.
“Shit! C, baby!” Zae moaned as he emptied himself inside her with a low growl. I stroked myself a few more times before Creek put me back into her mouth. It didn’t take long before I released down her throat. Her body trembled between us, and she collapsed in Zae’s arms, chest heaving.
“Now I’m back sticky,” Creek whined, finally catching her breath.
“Y’all shower, and I’ll finish breakfast,” Zae said as I pulled Creek off of him and carried her back to the bedroom.
As I carried her back to the bedroom, I glanced down at her—still flushed, still glowing, still ours. At one point in time, I thought I’d never get this again. Creek. Zae. Not this kind of peace. But here we were.
“Told you,” Zae said behind us. “Sunday mornings are slow.”
“That’s the best way.”
The smellof funnel cakes and waffle cones still sailed through the air as Sweet Pea’s annual back to school carnival quieted down. I packed away the last book fair shelf just as a group of kids zigzagged past me waving glow sticks, clearly suffering from a severe sugar high.
Technically, school had started a month ago, but between heat advisories, the buildings construction delays, and my backordered books, the district had decided to push the official kickoff carnival and book fair back a few weeks.
That may have been the best choice because the event had gone off way better than previous years. The book fair had sold out, and nobody threw up on the Tilt-A-Whirl. Zae was even ableto get parents to run the obstacle course. It had been a good time.
“Ms. Delaney, can you help me find my mom?” a little voice asked, making me look from my work. I looked up and saw Gemma, her little fingers tugging at the hem of my shirt. Quickly, I glanced around and spotted her mom, Amethyst, near the hot dog stand. She was craning her neck, scanning the crowd with panic setting into her eyes.
“What happened, Gemma? Did you wander off?” I asked gently, already grabbing her hand.
“I was just trying to get the ball I won at the obstacle course,” she mumbled, like she knew she’d broken a rule. I didn’t scold her. I locked the last book fair shelf, scribbled “Pickup” on the label, and gave her hand a soft squeeze. “Come on, let’s get you back to your mom.”
We made our way down the path toward the lake, where the hotdog stand was. The ground was littered with trash and crushed popcorn, and suddenly, I was glad I wasn’t on the clean-up committee.
“Gemma!” Amethyst called when she saw us, her face softening with relief. She jogged over from the food cart and bent down to hug her daughter tight.
“I’m sorry,” Gemma said into her mother’s arms.
“She did what she was supposed to do. She found me and asked for help.” I smiled.
“Thank you,” Amethyst said, standing up straighter now. She looked tired, lip gloss faded, edges frizzed from the heat, and eyes heavy like she hadn’t rested in days. “I swear I just turned my back for a second.”
“It happens,” I said. “She’s safe. Don’t beat yourself up. The week’s been long for all of us.”
“Yes. It’s just been the two of us lately. Dad’s been busy planning his wedding. So it’s been leaving me to show up for everything alone, so whew, it’s a lot.”
I nodded, offering a warm smile. She looked like she needed a word of encouragement, so I gave it to her. “You’re doing great. Gemma’s kind, smart, and confident.”
Amethyst blinked fast like she wasn’t expecting to get emotional over a compliment. She looked down at Gemma, then back at me.
“Thank you, Ms. Delaney. For everything.” She turned, gently guiding her daughter toward the exit. I stood there for a minute before slipping off my shoes and walking down to the lake. I let my toes sink into the cool sand and finally exhaled.
“Still afraid of ferris wheels?” Ares’s voice came from behind me. I turned around to face him, taking in the sight of him in his polo shirt and twill pants.
“You were the one who was scared,” I teased, knowing the memory he was referencing. “You were the one who faked a stomachache that time in eight grade.”
“I wasn’t scared. I just didn’t trust that old-ass metal.”
“So in other words… scared.” I smirked.
“You know it’s only one way to settle this.”
“And what way is that?”
“To get on it.” He held out his hand, and I hesitated. “I mean unless you’re too scared.”
