Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 32796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
24
TESSA
“Oh my God, we’re not making this awkward. I’m not going to bite. Really sucks we now can’t talk about our sex life, you know?” Mae’s voice carries through the kitchen. King is behind me, carrying the presents I have for him and my best friend, who is currently breaking the ice. I wasn’t trying to make it weird; really, I wasn’t. I hadn’t seen her in far too long, minus the ten minutes this morning. Some things never change, and Mae is one of those things.
I walk towards her and tackle her in a hug. She stumbles backwards, not bracing for impact, so we both fall, her taking the brunt of it, and we’re a ball of laughter. This right here, her understanding, making sure that our friendship survives this new season of life is what I love about her most. “You act like I had a sex life. That’s all you talking about your sexcapades,” I whisper into her ear once the laughter quiets down. I’m not sure what she’s told King and what she hasn’t, and it’s not my place to share. Even if we were married, I’d stand my ground on this subject. Mae doesn’t like labels when it comes to her sexuality. She’s a free spirit, free lover, and that goes either way, whether it be male or female. I don’t think King would be upset if or when she does come out and tell him. What I do believe is this is her one way not to be in control, to let go, to not have to be the buttoned-up law student everyone expects them to be.
“I know. Love you for that, too. I guess you like older men, huh? But tell me, do you call him daddy?” Her voice is higher, so King hears her loud and clear.
“Mae, Jesus Christ. What happened to your filter? Did it disappear when you left Nevada? And no, she doesn’t call me daddy.” He shakes his head, apparently done with the conversation as he walks towards the tree to place the presents around them.
“I do not call your father daddy.” I raise my eyebrows at her. Mae doesn’t blush, but she does have a look about her face that tells me she’s holding something back. “Tell me, do you have someone you call daddy?”
“Fuck off. Even if I did, you wouldn’t judge. And you know I’m not settling down. Two months ago, it was Christina. Last week, it was Jacques, an older sophisticated man from Paris who’s in town for work. Why do you think I’m not staying as long as planned?” Little tart was holding back.
“We’re talking about that later. Right now, I’m starving. He’s not going to let either of us lift a finger. Point in case, look what he’s doing currently.” I point to the living room at King. I tried to tell him I’d carry something inside, but he wasn’t having it, so when my back flops down, making a ruckus as he bends to put the presents down, I have to cover my mouth to stop myself from laughing all over again.
“I missed you. How about we make a promise?” Mae puts her pinky out. Mine goes to hers without even hearing what I’m agreeing to.
“Whatever you want. I owe you a kidney for being as understanding as you have been. I don’t know what I would have done if you’d hate me forever,” I reply.
“Shut up. Will it take getting used to? Of course, it will. But promise, no more secrets.” I wrap my pinky with hers, knowing that’s the simplest request she could ever ask for.
“Always.” We each bring our mouth to our fist, kissing it like old time sake, sealing the deal in our own little way. “Food?” I ask again, my stomach growling this time around, telling me if something doesn’t make its way inside my mouth, I’m going to turn into a miserable human being.
“Dad already has food taken care of, always one step ahead of everyone. I almost started tearing into the platters without you but figured I’d use my manners.” I stand up before Mae, reaching my hand out to help her up just as Kingston makes his way back from the living room after dropping my bag off in his room.
“Everything good?” His hand wraps around the base of my back. A quick change of clothes before we left while he took care of loading his vehicle up had me out of my ratty sweats, King’s tank, and sliding on a slouchy sweater that hangs off the shoulder, forgoing the bra because why bother when you’ll be around the people you love, black leggings, slouchy white socks I pulled over my leggings, and I slid my feet inside my Birkenstock clogs.
“Perfect.” I tip my head up. King brushes his lips across mine.