His Mafia Princess
"Good morning, Stace," said Scott, briefly laying his hand on my shoulder in passing.
I reflexively shrugged my shoulder out of his grasp, then cringed. A little too late to run from his touch now. A little too late to pretend I don't love it.
"Good morning," I said, the words coming out as a squeak.
A pained look flashed in Scott's eyes as he withdrew his hand from me. I wished I could stop myself from acting stupidly around him. I wanted to drown myself in my coffee cup.
Things were such a mess. When he held me after we did it yesterday afternoon, I thought we were good. Then nightfall came and it suddenly hit me. We boned. After that, I couldn't look him in the eye, much less let him hold me all night. How naive was I? Of course we weren't good. We did it. Boning seemed like the wrong word for what happened. Did Scott Brady make love to me?
I don't know how much sleep he got. We had our backs to each other all night. I barely got any, and yet I felt wide awake.
"You okay, Stace?" Kenny asked, looking at me with concern. "You're not coming down with something, are you?"
Scott and I looked at each other. Again, I was the first to look away. Dammit.
"All good. Thanks Ken," I said, raising my coffee cup to my lips.
Flashes of Scott's lips lightly brushing up against mine danced before my eyes and I stopped drinking, setting the mug down with a thump.
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