Page 114 of I Heart Mason Cartwright
Mason
My first thoughtas I look down at Willow sleeping on one side of me and P-Tink sleeping on the other is: I want this all the time.
But then I remember what happened when I was only pretend involved with a Brooks girl. I try not to make the comparisons, but it’s hard. Even though I feel as though I’ve known Willow forever, I really haven’t. And despite that the two girls are nothing alike, I can’t help but wonder about parallels.
Wake up, man. There are none.
Reality is, tonight with Willow was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. Emotionally, physically, literally. I’ve been with my fair share of women, even had a few semi-serious relationships, but nothing where I felt like this. Where I felt like the girlgot me.
The show ends, the one I wasn’t really watching anyway, and I turn the TV off and carry Willow back to her room. Help her take off her robe, so she’s naked again, and tuck her in. I shed my slacks and crawl in behind her then pull her to me into a perfect spoon. One arm curled under my pillow, the other over her with my hand cupping her breast and her hand over mine.
Even with lingering doubts, this is the best it’s ever been. I’m going to enjoy it.
While it lasts.
I’m not letting it end.
Then there’s your answer.
Then there’s my answer.
I fall asleep satisfied, grin on my face, my girl in my arms, her dog at our feet, and my decision made.
* * *
Mmmmm,that’s a nice way to wake up.
I open my mouth to capture Willow’s tongue with mine. She moves away. Her breath hot on my face. I smile and try again.
Hair.
Why is there hair in my mouth?
I open one eye. P-Tink is burrowing her head between Willow’s and mine, licking our faces alternately. She turns to me and licks again. My mouth is still open.
Our tongues touch.
And my first morning kiss at Willow’s is with the dog.
Awesome.
“Hey, girl,” I whisper as I pull dog fur off my tongue. She wags her tail in response.
Willow stirs. “Morning,” she mumbles sleepily.
I kiss her lightly on the lips. “Stay right here, I’m going to let P-Tink outside.”
She nods in response and sighs, then is back asleep almost immediately. I ease out of bed, the dog bounds behind me to follow. I pull on my slacks and shirt and head down the hall. The house is quiet, the only sound being P-Tink’s nails clicking on the floor behind me. I open the doors to let her out, then look around at the empty space soon to be the kitchen.
She has a card table set up in the corner with a coffee pot, toaster oven, and electric burner on it. Along with a five-gallon jug of water, bread, peanut butter, dog food, and a basket of fruit and veggies. A cooler on the floor completes the makeshift kitchenette. Inside I find coffee creamer, lunch meat, some condiments, hard boiled and raw eggs, turkey bacon, and a few other things.
I debate making her breakfast in bed or going back to bed and seeing if I can score with Willow instead of the dog. P-Tink comes back inside and nudges my hand toward the coffee maker.
“Coffee?” I ask her.
She wags her tail.
“Okay, coffee it is, my cute little cock-block.” I prep coffee and set it to brew, then take P-Tink outside to throw the ball around a bit until it’s finished. I inhale a deep breath of fresh air. The sound is still this morning and all I really hear are birds and the occasional frog. I don’t recall feeling this good in a long time. Good isn’t even the right word for it. It doesn’t encompass all of what I’m feeling. I feel more than good. Happy? Relaxed? Content? Fulfilled? Whatever it is, I like it.
