We'll be finishing up Ashton and Sam's story in four chapters. Those who have read my books know that it isn't always a happy ending, but something more realistic. Do you think they'll be getting back together or will they stay apart? There will be a new couple coming after that.
For the next month, I’m focused on getting back into the swing of the semester. The nice part is that I’m nearly done with all of my gen eds. The only ones that I have left are ones that can also count towards my major. Which means for the first time in my college career, all I’m focused on is art. Not necessarily my kind of art, but art all the same. I also get back to jogging like I was before. I didn’t get to do it as much in Ohio. The snow was too deep, people weren’t really on the streets, so snow plows weren’t running and sidewalks weren’t cleaned. I went to the gym a few times, but it wasn’t the same. I mean, I love the exercise part of jogging, but the biggest thing that I loved, that I craved, was being outdoors. It cleared my head and helped me to forget. Forget the pain. Forget the betrayal. Forget…everything. Everything that happened while I was with Ashton over quarantine. Being with my family had made it easier to forget. Making up with Matt made it eas
I continue to get flowers everyday. Always a Gerbera daisy with some other flower. A sunflower to remind me of the day that we stopped on a road trip back from a cabin our families rented and went traipsing through a sunflower field. A rose to remind me of the bouquet he gave me on my high school graduation day. A lily to remind me of the time he took the blame for when I broke my mom’s favorite crystal lily. Each day a different flower and a different memory. And with every memory, he told me how much he missed something about me. At first it was my smile. Then it was my eyes. My laugh. My compassion. On Sunday, he sent me another full bouquet of Gerbera daisies. At first, I had given everything to Kora to get rid of. After the third day, I just gave her the notes that came with them after reading them. But by the end of the week, I was keeping them. And my wonderful friend, Kora, had kept them all instead of getting rid of them. She said that she knew that I would
It’s the day of my opening and I’m a nervous fucking wreck. I barely slept the night before and I feel like a zombie right now. Finally, at 4 am, I decide to just get out of bed and get the day going. Ship told me to text him the second that I was ready for breakfast this morning, no matter what time it was. He would then tell me if I was insane or if I was being a normal first time exhibitor. I’ve kind of got the feeling that he’s as nervous as I am. I go for a run. Yes, it’s 4 am, but there’s still plenty of people out on the street. Quarantine is still a thing, but New York has decided that it’s time to get on with our lives. I feel comfortable running out here as long as I stick to the busier and more well lighted areas. In an attempt to exhaust myself, I run for an entire hour, hoping that I’ll come home and pass out on the couch. No such luck. So, I decide that I’m going to take a long, leisurely bath, shaving, exfoliating, and soaking in the tub. But I can’t rela
“Samantha.” His voice is so hoarse, so full of emotion. His eyes, full of those tears that I painted in that piece, are staring right at me. He swallows before he can speak again. “Sam…hey.” “Hi,” I whisper. He turns away from me, wiping at his cheeks and eyes. “Look at you. You really made it to the big time, didn’t you?” I chuckle, though I can feel the tears in my own eyes. “Yeah, well. I kind of feel like I owe this to you, just a bit.” He barks out laughter at that. “Yeah, I’ve never been anyone’s muse before. I’m not sure whether I should feel flattered or…disgusted with myself.” Looking back at me, the amused smirk on his face disappears. “Definitely disgusted.” I try to blink back tears, but they just fall instead. “I know that this is your big night. And Matt told me that you’ve been up since 4, so I know that you have to be exhausted. If you want to talk later, we can. I’ll take you back to the apartment and we can talk tomorrow. Or, after you sleep
It’s 2 am and I’m drowning myself in a bottle of tequila. It stopped burning down my throat hours ago, not too long after Zoe left. Fuck, Zoe! I can’t even think about her without taking another swig of the bottle in my hand. But when I bring it to my lips, I find that it’s empty, just a few drops left. Well, shit! Soooo, the tequila’s gone. Time to start on the vodka. I stand and try to walk to the bar that we’ve got set up on the other side of the room. Unfortunately, I stumble, banging my shin on the coffee table. Fucking hell that hurt! Who moved the coffee table there? I let out a yowl of pain and fall forward, barely managing to catch myself on the couch arm as the door opens. I hear deep giggling and someone saying “Shh! Shhh!” I turn my head to the side, but my vision swims and it takes me a second to make sense of what I’m seeing. “Cole? Dude, what are you doing standing there in the dark?” It’s only after he speaks that my vision settles and I see my r
I wake up to the smell of Axe bodyspray and fabric softener. My head is on something warm, my arms wrapped around it, too. I’m still half asleep, so nothing is really sinking in until I hear a deep, masculine voice. “Never would have taken you for a snuggler.” My eyes fly open and I try to jump back, but my arm is underneath his back. When I focus, I see that I’m in bed with Kent. Both of us are shirtless, him in just boxers and me with sweats on. “What the fuck happened?!” I nearly scream in his face. He just laughs at me. “You seriously don’t remember anything?” I shake my head and he mutters, “Figures.” He sits up and I immediately move to the other side of the bed. I’m not as shook up as much as I wish I was about waking up next to Kent and that’s pissing me off. “What happened?” “Look man, I came home - “ Kent starts but I interrupt. “With a guy.” The words come out with a bit more anger than I meant to put in them and I try to play it off by rolling my eye
It’s the beginning of March and Kent has been pulling more and more hours at work. He works at this place called Zoom, a company that he began working at about a year ago. It’s some kind of video telecommunications company that makes has been used a lot in the business sector. It’s like Skype used to be, but it’s a lot clearer and easier to connect. Kent’s pulling more hours because China has been under quarantine because of some really bad virus. People over there have been getting really worried about it, saying that it’s going to another pandemic, like SARS and the Zika virus. Kent is kind of worried about it as well, but I mean, how much did our lives change from SARS and the Zika virus? So I wasn’t supposed to travel specific places. Meh. None of these padnemics have ever bothered me before or changed anything that I’ve ever had to do before. Yeah, it’s playing in the back of my mind, especially with my roommate’s job, but I’m not super worried about it. Maybe…I don’t
Two weeks later and we are in full lockdown. Santa Clara, our county in California, has had 20 deaths as of today, one being a teenager, the first in the country. This shit is getting real and it sucks and it’s scary and I don’t like it. You know the other thing that I don’t like? The headache that has come with trying to deal with all of these couples that are having to change their wedding dates, as well as the conferences, trainings, parties, and random other events that are supposed to occur for the next month. I’m on the phone for horus every day trying to figure out the logistics of how to rearrange all of these events along with all fo the other events that we have. At least many of these events have coordinated with us for mostly everything: venue, food, alcohol, rooms. They just have to work around their family and florists. But trying to fit two whole weeks’ worth of events into other slots gives me a huge migraine by the end of every day and I feel like beating my h
Hey friends! Thank you so much for reading Love in the Time of Quarantine. I hope that you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing. Here are a couple of announcements/interesting information for you. 1. If you are interested in what I listen to while I’m writing, you can find my playlist “Creative Juices” on Spotify. I love all different kinds of music, so there's a little something for everyone. 2. Other books on GoodNovel: Trio of Mates Series: 4 werewolf books that take on the idea of what would happen if one of the leadership was gay and couldn’t produce an heir. Lots of very graphic smut. (completed) Trio Legacy Series: The stories of the children of the wolves introduced in the Trio of Mates Series. Completed: Hide and Seek, Ongoing: Red Rover Dissonance and Harmony: The story of a high school girl who has to face her rapist at his sentencing hearing and deal with her PTSD from that night. Graphic violence and rape scenes. (completed) 3. Follow me under the same name
I’m standing outside of the girls’ apartment, my old apartment, with a picnic basket of baked goods and a cooler with drinks, fruits, and icings to add. I have muffins, cinnamon rolls, danishes, cinnamon raisin bread, and fresh bagels. Ok, I went a little overboard. I can admit that. I’m just so fucking anxious about this whole thing that I don’t know how to handle my feelings right now. I had been awake when Andie had texted me last night, contemplating what Angel had said to me earlier that day. I’d actually been looking at pictures of Andie and Jaime on my phone when I got the text. We’d been so happy before this whole thing started. I miss them. So damn much and it took losing them to understand what I’d done wrong. I didn’t even have to think twice about it, I immediately texted her back that I would bring breakfast. And then I fell to sleep without any issue. Granted, I’d only gotten a few hours in bed, since I had to make deliveries to the bakery this morning.
I’ve been tossing and turning in bed all night after listening to everything Angel and Maddie said tonight. “You three belong together.” “He loves you.” “He wants you back.” “What do you have to lose if you do call him?” I know what my heart wants. I also know what my heart is afraid is going to happen. How can I allow him to possibly hurt me, us, all over again? What’s the definition of insanity? Doing something the same way over and over again and expecting a different result? Wouldn’t it just be insanity to allow him back into our lives again and hoping for a different result. Though both Angel and Marta have said that he’s reducing his hours at the business, that they’ve hired a lot of new people, and that he’s learned his lesson. Could it be true? Could he have really changed for us, even if he didn’t think that we’d be there for him? I don’t know. We’ve been in bed since midnight and it’s 3 am. With a huge sigh, I get up and grab my robe. I tie the robe
Jaime and I go about making dinner in silence. We are a well oiled machine at this point, moving easily around each other in our kitchen. Angel and her partner Maddie are coming over tonight for dinner and to play cards. It’s something that we started up in college with Angel. A weekly card game. Each week, someone picks the game that we play and once a year, each of us is supposed to introduce a new card game. We use candy and snack foods for any games that require betting. It’s more to hang out and have fun than anything else. Maddie and Angel have been very careful of who they let in their circle, as have we, so we all feel comfortable being around each other, even with COVID still happening. Unfortunately, this is how much of our life has been since Jorge left. Just a silent orbit around each other. Hold each other through the tears and the pain. But not really talking. I mean, what was there to say? We were enough for each other, but not for the man that we love
“Angel, do you have tomorrow’s shipment of bread all packaged? Carmello’s needs the delivery an hour early. I’d like to be able to have everything on rolling carts so I can just load up the trucks the second I get here,” I call to Angel. When she first started working with me, I had brought Angel on just as a delivery driver. But over the last two months, I have consciously tried to pull myself back from the business and I’ve made Angel a partner. We have three drivers, a part-time baker, and two part-time packagers. I’ve cut my hours back so that I’m working nine hour days, as opposed to the 16 hour days I was working before. The only reason that I’m driving tomorrow is because our early morning guy took tomorrow off. Otherwise, I’ve even built in my Wednesdays and Sundays as days off. “Yes, everythings all ready. Just waiting for the last batch to finish cooling before we get it packaged. I’ll get that done in the next hour,” Angel tells me. I let out a huge sigh. “O
It’s been a week since our last interaction with Jorge. We’ve been communicating via text and notes left at the apartment. The morning after our break up, Jorge was gone by the time Andie and I woke up. He had packed a bag and left a note saying that he would be in and out while Andie and I were at work over the coming week. He’s moving into an apartment over his parents’ restaurant. It was a place that his dad used as an office and that one family member or another would crash at when they were in the dog house with their wives or girlfriends. Not a bad place, but also not a place for someone with as successful a business as Jorge’s. Unfortunately, with COVID still pretty bad, Jorge has elected to stay in a place where only family has been until things blow over a bit. Trying to decide what belongs to who out of our stuff over text is difficult. I had honestly thought that Jorge was the one. The guy that I was going to spend the rest of my life with. When we added Andie
In that way that grief between people who love each other will sometimes turn sexual, when Jorge turns to Jaime and kisses her, she kisses him back. I lean in and kiss the side of his face. He turns towards me and God does it feel good to kiss him. I’ve missed him so damn much. It’s been too damn long. Jaime brings his mouth back to her, their kiss hungry and desperate. My hands go to the bottom of the hoodie he’s wearing and I rip it off of him. Jaime finds his mouth again and I lean down, licking his nipples. He groans into Jaime’s mouth and his body tenses in his arousal. He loves having his nipples played with. At the same time, I rake my nails down his abs. Jorge pulls back from Jaime’s mouth to look down at me. “Please. I need you both.” His voice is so full of need. I look at Jaime, asking if she’s ok with this. Because this is going to be an end. Not a reconciliation. But I want this. I need him. Jaime nods, both of us seeing the motion. Jorge surg
Andie looks between Jaime and me and seems to immediately know what’s going on. She’s always had that ability. To take a situation in at a glance and know exactly what is going on. I guess that’s what makes her so good at programming. And at calling me on my bullshit. Ever since the day that I triggered Jaime’s meltdown, Andie has been more aloof with me. I guess she realized that the promises that I made to her and Jaime, while heartfelt and genuine, weren’t ones that I could keep. I feel like the time that I managed to get after that was more for Jaime’s benefit than Andie’s. As introverted and quiet as she appears, Andie doesn’t take bullshit from anyone. She’s given me more rope than I deserve. But it seems that it was just enough for me to hang myself with. “How far are we into this conversation?” Andie asks. I stare at her, surprised at how calmly she can address this. Jaime is the one that answers. “I’ve told him that he isn’t treating us like priorities an
I’m sitting on the couch flipping through the channels on the TV when Jorge walks in. It’s been two days since our failed date and this is the first time that I’ve seen him in more then passing. He’s dressed in sweats and a tank, his hair wet from a shower. He must have just come back from a run. Andie and I have been sleeping in her old room ever since our failed date night. With the hours that he’s been keeping, I don’t really know what he’s up to. I don’t know that I really can muster up the ability to care. Each time I do, it just seems to hurt me a little more. “Hey…” Jorge says tentatively. He walks in the room and sits on the arm of the couch. I glance over at him. “Hey,” I say, turning my attention back to the TV. “Um…where’s Andie?” he asks, like he’s not sure what to say. “Doctor’s appointment and then grocery shopping.” My responses aren’t angry, but they are short and I don’t turn my attention back to him. Instead I give the remote the voice command to tu