Page 152 of Paint the Town, Dove
“Hey uh,” Donny scratched the back of his neck. “How you doin’ though, man? You know, all that shit with your –”
“Clara?” I bit back.Not my mom.
Not anymore.
He cleared his throat. “Yeah, yeah. Clara.”
Felt so weird hearing someone else say her name. Like a ghost coming back to haunt me all over again. Now she was haunting everybody else.
“She’s gone, so what of it?” I crossed my arms, unscrewing my flask. “Not paying any mind to her absence, am I?” Another sip of poison, another taste of freedom.Burn baby, burn.
“Alright well, if you’re good then, uh…” He saluted, “We’ll see you on the hill at –” His body slammed into red hair, long legs, and lips that tasted like cherries and fucking sin on my lips a few days ago.
My heart hammered like a bat out of hell.
We stared at each other, like two sharks fighting for prey, fighting forpeace, a plush carpet separating the waves between us, and a very horny Donny no doubt scrolling to Tav’s contact (for Paisley’s digits).
“Scarlett Red,” Donny ruffled her hair. “Finally hitting the slopes this year?”
She rolled over his toe with her luggage. “I’ll be hitting something, D.”
He winced in pain, “Noted,” and pretended to limp away.
I suppressed the urge to laugh. No matter what she did, she always did it with fire. I hated that. I loved that.I loved her.
Her presence sucked the life out of me, and I said nothing. My eyes burned with the desire to trail up her body, get on my knees and fucking sink –
“Which bed?” she asked, throwing her stuff down onto the double by the door.
I snorted. “Guess you decided for us.”
She rolled her eyes, unzipping her luggage. “Someone had to.”
All those hidden innuendos… they were starting to pull at my patience. “Yep,” I said, shedding the thermal from my body.
She turned to look at me, and I let my lips curve.
I was chiselled, I knew that. Even when I was fucked, I boxed. When I was high, I lifted. It helped battle the demons, helped me forget for a little while. Scarlett couldn’t resist me. And I was done pretending that I didn’t want her.
Pretending prevented me from proximity.
And I was so close to her. I was almost inside her.
And I could see how much pretending she really practiced all those years.
Bad girl, good girl. All the fucking same.
“Looking for something?” I asked, taking time to pick out a sweater from the closet. Back flexed, phoenix wings on both shoulder blades. Yeah, I got one too.
She knewit was there.
One wing for both my girls.
She cleared her throat. I could see her reflection in the mirror. Lusty eyes, oh Dove. Lusty eyes. “How long does it take you to pick out an outfit?”
I slipped off a Moncler wool. “I take my time with things.”
She turned back to her luggage, busying herself with shit that didn’t matter becauseImattered.Wemattered. And I was so sick of acting like we had to hold back when we were both addicts for each other.
