Here I am, packing another suitcase for New York. Maybe I should have lied to get out of this, told him I would have preferred his parents to come here. But he would have hated that more than the trip. Kent's parents being anywhere near Brown and his life here made him angry, and I could understand why. I have to suck this up. We're on good terms, things are great between us, and it's time to rip off the last band-aid in our relationship. Besides, it can't be any more of a disaster than when we told Piper. I have a simple carry-on suitcase and my backpack. It's only three days, including this one, so I don't need to pack a whole lot. I zip everything shut and wheel my suitcase out to the main room, going to double-check that my Gravol is in a secure place in my backpack. Mark is at the dining room table doing some work, and I sigh, putting on my sneakers. "You two heading out?" He asks, and I nod quietly. "Can't believe he wants you to meet his parents. I've only met his mom once
"For the past two weeks, our sex life had been almost too much for me. It was fun and nice, and in a lot of ways, it was love, but it had ramped up dramatically." "Because I love you," he answers quietly. "I think you're hot, it feels good, I like watching you-" "Oh my god," I mumble, shoving him slightly, and he laughs. I feel my cheeks turn pink and I clear my throat. "You're really too much for me." I'd never been in a relationship where sex had become such a normal part of it. When I dated in high school, sex was something I did every once in a while. It wasn't anywhere near as often as Kent and I were doing it. "You know there's nothing wrong with us, right? Couples have sex," he shrugs, and I clear my throat. "I know there's not," I whisper. "We're so not having this conversation." I amend a second later, moving around him to get back to the fridge in search of a bell pepper. He's not having it, though, picking me up and sitting me on the island. "Kent! Just let me." "Why a
I feel light and airy while we eat dinner in the small sitting room off the foyer. I refused to eat it in the grand dining spaces surrounding the kitchen because those felt completely cold and uninviting. Kent, of course, agreed and smiled, letting me choose the spot. Our early dinner was steak with roasted potatoes and green vegetables. Incredibly boring as a dish, but delicious in taste. Whoever had made it certainly seemed to know what they were doing. "Did you want a glass of wine with dinner?" He asks, breaking me from my enjoyment of our food. "I'm alright with my water!" I whisper, and he shrugs. "Just offering," he suggests, and I smile briefly. This playful look passed between us every now and then, it continued to make my cheeks flush every time. "Is it good?" He asks, and I smile. "Delicious," I assure him, and he nods, reaching across the table for my hand. I place it in his, feeling warmth tingle through my palm. "Mark finally seems like he's getting used to us," I
I turn on the taps over the bath, letting nice warm water run into it. I add some body wash left on the side rail of the tub along with more neutral bath essentials. It was always ready for someone to drop by and stay. I go back out to grab my toiletries out of my suitcase, and I smile, seeing Kent in the corner on his laptop. It was in moments like this when I could really overdo it and see us together for a really long time; I wanted moments like this forever. I give him a brief wave, blowing him a kiss, and then I head back to the bathroom. I rest the door on its latch and pull off my clothes, looking at the inviting bathwater. I take off my jewelry and tie my hair up in a loose bun this time, walking over and turning off the water. I test it out with my hand, and I grin at how nice it seems. Then I walk over and dim the lights, hurrying back over to the tub, easily settling into the warm water and laying my head back on the bath pillow. I couldn't believe how well stocked this
I sit quietly on the edge of the desk as Kent retrieves the first drawer from the wall safe. I don't know where this story is going, but I'm glad he wants to share it. It's the last secret he's keeping, and I don't need him to give it up, but the fact that he wants to is incredible. He takes a seat and clears his throat, not touching the contents of anything before him on the desk. He seems visibly upset, and I sigh, reaching my arm out. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to," I whisper, and he gives me a weak smile, touching my arm softly. "I don't want to tell you, but I think I should," he whispers back, and I nod. "When I turned fourteen, I started turning into a little brat," he says bluntly, and I smile a bit, only once I see that he is too. "I think that's just a part of being a fourteen-year-old boy." "I know... but, I know I was irritating," he mumbles. "I started getting into things I shouldn't have been, but I'm good now. It was just bad friends, fighting... t
"After a while, he asked me why I didn't like him. It was after he downed a glass and was filling it back up again," he mumbles, and I sigh. "I told him that wasn't true, I would have stood up to him if I wasn't in that damn chair, but I couldn't really defend myself." It was now that I understood why Kent really hated that time in his life. It wasn't because he was consumed by the thought of him never walking again. It was feeling powerless. "He said that's what Cali had said, so if I didn't feel that way, then she must be a liar," he whispers, and I watch this guilty look spread over his face. "He was drunk, I didn't want him to go to wherever she was and take it out on her... so I told him that I had lied, that I hated him and to fuck off," he huffs out and runs a hand through his hair. "He threw his glass at me." "Oh, baby," I whisper, standing up and going over to him. That was terrible, worse than the stories of his mother and father getting into domestic disputes. He gladly l
I wake up with Kent's arms still wrapped around me. I'm sweating from his body practically lying on top of mine all night long, but I wouldn't want it any other way. I don't want him to feel as emotional as he does, but having him close is always special. Being able to be there for him is incredibly important to me because he's always there for me. I don't move a muscle. I try not to even breathe the wrong way so I don't disturb him. I just smile at this boy. He puts up such a hard front, like he's tough and everything doesn't faze him, when he's really a sweetheart with a heart of gold. I grab my phone off the nightstand and scroll through some messages and my I*******m feed. He's dead asleep. I'm sure after keeping all of that in for years, letting it out must feel like a relief. I lay with him for nearly half an hour when I feel him stir slightly. We didn't talk more last night after he shared all of that. We just fell asleep, and he went before me. He wakes up after a moment, an
They look like a celebrity couple; Astrid is dressed in a glamorous white gown with an elegant updo, while Barry is tall and impeccably dressed in a smart suit. I wonder if they ever wear anything else. "My family," his mother beams as she enters the room, heading to Kent first to kiss his cheek. He awkwardly accepts it and gives her a light hug. "And Juls, I'm so glad you could come," she whispers, giving me a hug too, and I try to return it amicably. "Nice to see you," I reply kindly, and she nods before moving to Cali, who awkwardly gives her mom a quick hug. She whispers something to her mom, who just nods and gives her another hug. Barry is less warm, more of a handshaker but only with strangers. He just nods at the three of us with a smile. "Lunch smells good," he says as an opening line, and I feel hot anger run up my spine. Stay calm, Juls. "Let's sit." I engage in mind-numbing conversation with them through the appetizer, soup, and main course. His dad asks pointed questi