“Hey,” I say as Phoebe begins kissing at my neck, but she ignores me. I know something is wrong, this behavior, as much as I love it, is really out of character for her. When she doesn’t stop her sweet and erotic assault, I grab her face and plant a quick kiss to her lips. “Save it for home. I want to be with you and take in the view. It’s amazing.”
Phoebe gasps, it’s small but I feel it. Multiple emotions flash in her eyes – shock, offense, and sadness before the big one – anger. “Are you turning me down? Did I just get shut down? Are you kidding me?”
“Whoa there, Rocky,” I say, grabbing her hands as she pushes at my chest. “I didn’t turn you down; I want to hang out with you and fucking cuddle, dammit. Stop making me sound like a chick, and look at the damn view, will ya?” I smirk because what I said is probably the most ridiculous string of words to fall from my mouth.
“Cuddle? Oh my God, you’re ridiculous. Fine, how about we snuggle? You want to be my snuggle muffin?” She’s mocking me with baby talk, and I swear she’ll regret that later when I smack her ass.
We spend the next few hours riding the various rides, playing games, and winning Phoebe the most ridiculous stuffed pelican ever. She’s names him Chester and refuses to let me carry him for her. She says she’s going to cuddle with him when I’m gone, and I’m a little worried for Chester. She’s serious about her cuddles. But, if she’s going to cuddle with someone, I’d rather it be a fake pelican than a blond surfer who calls her Fancy.
Phoebe is up and dressed early this morning, thoroughly excited for her first day of work. Her excitement is contagious; I’m up with her, listening to her ramble on and on while she eats breakfast. Phoebe is pouring coffee in her travel mug when I hear three quick knocks on the front door.
Jackson.
Seriously, this guy needs to learn the definition of boundaries. Phoebe jumps up and opens the door before the fourth knock, and I can hear the two of them talking as they return to where I’m sitting at the kitchen table.
“Morning,” Jackson greets me. Not “Good morning” or even “Hey.” Just “morning.” Jackass. That’s what I call him now. He’s no longer Jackson.
“What’s up? We’re getting ready to head out,” I say, standing and tossing the keys in the air before catching them.
“Oh Mads, that’s why Jackson’s here. He’s working at the store today, so he thought he could drive me. Save you the trip.” Phoebe smiles at me and doesn’t seem to read anything into Jackson’s sudden desire to play taxi. I, on the other hand, am hip to his game. She walks up to me, bends over, and places a quick kiss to my lips, “You should get some surfing in while I’m at work.”
“I don’t mind taking you.” My eyes shoot to Jackson, who has poured himself a cup of coffee. In the week we’ve been here, he’s made himself right at home. Which is weird since his actual home is like thirty steps away.
“That’s silly. Pick me up though? Maybe we can grab a late lunch? I’m only working until two.”
“If you’re sure,” I reply while Phoebe nods her head in agreement and places another kiss to my lips and turns to grab her purse.
“See ya, Madsen. I’ll take good care of her.” Jackson’s last words sit like a bomb in my stomach. I don’t have a good feeling about leaving for New York in a few days. This fucker better recognize his place. And his place isn’t taking care of my girl.
Suddenly in need of something more strenuous than my shitty attempts at surfing, I put my cup in the sink and grab a protein bar from the stash in the cupboard. Taking a few bites as I walk back into our bedroom, visions of Jackass opening the car door for Phoebe and his cocky grin showing off his perfect teeth flash before me. I bet his parents paid a pretty penny for those teeth. I’m not a fighter by nature but something about that guy makes me want to change that.
I contemplate googling a gym nearby, preferably one with a boxing option. If I can’t smack that cocky grin off Jackson’s face, at least I can get in a good workout. But instead I opt to go for a run. Running isn’t my preferred form of exercise, but it’s one I’ve fallen back on time and time again. Once my shoes are laced and my earbuds secured, I head out the front door and take off at a slow pace.
My running playlist is set up so I gradually increase my pace along with the intensity of the music. When “Try Me” by Jason Derulo begins, I know it’s time to turn back toward the house. If my pace is the same as it is at home, I’ve just hit four miles, which means by the time I’m back to the house, it’ll be eight. Any more and I’ll be fatigued. Any less and it’s not worth it in my book. Having this time to myself has my mind spinning. Jackson seems, overall, to be a decent guy. If he wasn’t blatantly into my girl, I might like him. But the fact is, he is into my girl, and I’m leaving town in a few days. I trust Phoebe, but her refusal to label us and acknowledge to others who we are to each other leaves me more than a little unsettled.
Sure, she kisses me and calls me “babe” in front of Jackass, but she also introduces me as “Mads” and never “my boyfriend.” Her refusal to use a fucking title, or label as she calls them, is driving me nuts. For the last three months, it hasn’t been a big deal. As soon as we came back from spring break, I made it known to everyone who mattered that we were together and it was business as usual. But here, it’s different. There’s no history.
I don’t like it.
I push away the jealousy because Phoebe hates it, and I don’t want her pissed at me. I need to keep my focus on the end game. The end game being, getting one of these jobs and moving Phoebe and me to New York. Worst case scenario, we talk about other options, and I expand my job search.
I decide, instead of walking into the house after my run, to take a quick swim. I kick off my shoes, toss my phone and earbuds into my shoe, and discard my T-shirt. Once I’m in only my running shorts, I run into the surf and push my body further. This probably isn’t smart, considering I just ran eight miles, but I don’t care. I need to exhaust myself so my mind isn’t going. Being alone today wasn’t how I planned to spend my time in Santa Cruz.
After a long float, I exit the water and head home. Kelsey and Duncan are cleaning the kitchen, and instead of bothering with small talk about what they’ll be doing today, I make a beeline for the shower and wonder how long I can prolong this menial task so the day doesn’t drag any longer than necessary.
“I . . . I . . . oh dear God.”
Phoebe’s early morning wails are exactly what I need today. I have an hour before I leave for the airport, and my plan is to leave her completely sated. So far, my plan is working. I’ve managed to fuck her into oblivion multiple times over the last three days, and while I’m fucking exhausted, I hope she is too.
Yeah, that makes me a dick, and I’m basically pissing on her like a dog marking his territory. Who can blame me? Fucking Jackass Jackson hasn’t stopped coming around since he drove her to work the other day.
“Fuck yeah, Phoebs. God, I love your pussy.” I’m pulling out all the stops with this goodbye fucking. Three orgasms and the dirty talk should satisfy her while I’m gone. It’s only four days, but it already feels like an eternity. I never said I wasn’t whipped. I totally am. Phoebe Stromberg owns me, and my dick, from now until the end of time.
“Mads, I can’t. I can’t . . .”
“Yes, baby. Yes, you can.”
I no sooner tell her she can, than I feel my own orgasm creeping up on me. Fuck. I reach to the back of her knee and drive her leg up farther, causing me to go deeper. Her head rolls back as her back arches, and it’s all I need to release.
As soon as we’ve both come and the aftershocks of our fucking have subsided, I gather her in my arms and kiss her shoulder. “I’m going to miss you,” I whisper in her ear.
“I don’t want you to go.”
“I know. I have to though. This is our future, babe.”
Phoebe tenses a little in my arms before flipping over to face me. Her eyes are serious as she runs her hands through my hair and tugs me
to her lips. “You always say that.”
“What?” Our future?” She nods her head. “It is ours. I know you don’t want labels and all that, but I have told you from the beginning, we’re more. Let’s not do this now. As much as it pains me, I should shower before I go. Plus, you need to at least try to get some coffee in you before you drive me to the airport.”
I plant a quick kiss to Phoebe’s forehead before I hop off the bed and head to the bathroom. I don’t bother with boxers or shorts, the sun is barely breaking through the darkness, and I know neither Duncan or Kelsey are awake.
I shower and return to the bedroom, noting Phoebe is missing and the bed is made. I get dressed and make sure I have my phone, charger, and wallet before pulling my suitcase to the living room. Phoebe stands at the sliding door, watching the sun rise. I walk up behind her and place my hands around her waist.
“We’ve never watched the sun rise together.”
“Yeah we did. That one night you and Dunc showed up at the dorms and insisted Kelsey and I come down to go for an early breakfast, remember? The sun was rising.”
“Babe, I was probably drunk. Sorry I missed it.” Phoebe settles into my hold and tilts her head to the side, resting her cheek on my shoulder. I enjoy a few minutes of holding her while we watch the colors change in the horizon. I glance at the clock on the microwave and know if we don’t get moving we take the chance of hitting a lot of traffic.
“We should go,” I say, squeezing her waist before stepping away. Phoebe turns and smiles at me. This is my future. The woman that reminds me what I want in life. Her smile, her feistiness, and her drive. All of it. Even when she feels insecure and unsure, she is full of hope and love.
I see her in one of my T-shirts, a pair of leggings, and her hair in a messy bun, not a hint of makeup on her face, a cup of coffee in her hand, and I see it all. A home, children, and a future. I also hear how much of a chick I sound like and wonder if I should hand over my balls now or save them until I completely lose my man card.
We make it to the airport with enough time to get scolded by the police officer patrolling the drop-off lane. Our goodbye kiss becomes a little heated. Phoebe and I have only been together three months, but it feels like forever.
“I should go.”
“You should. I don’t want to get a ticket. I’m sure they’re like a grand here. Everything costs more in California,” Phoebe jokes.
“It’s four days. I feel like a fucking pussy, but I’m not sure how I’ll survive without you.”
“Me or my magical vagina? Because, I think you may miss that more than me.”
“Hush your mouth. Besides, we determined months ago, I have a magical dick. We can’t both be magical, that would like send the world off balance or something. So much magic in one couple.”
We both laugh, and I kiss her again, this time quickly and with an eye on the officer who is quickly losing his patience with us.
“Call me when you land, okay?”
“Of course. Have fun while I’m gone. But not too much,” I tease but won’t lie that there’s an underlying worry with Jackass around. “Wish me luck and I’ll see you in four days.”
“You don’t need luck, Mads. Any of those companies would be lucky to have you. Be safe, and I’ll talk to you in a few hours.”
I turn and walk away. As the sliding doors to the terminal open, I turn to look back at Phoebe. She’s stopped at the car and is watching me. This is like a one of those ultra-cheesy romance movies Kelsey made us watch once. I feel like if I listen closely there will be dramatic music cued up. Instead, I smile and wink at Phoebe, who responds with an eyeroll and a smile.
I hate airports. No, that’s not true. I only hate airports when I’m delayed and stuck in a terminal that’s under construction. When I arrive in Chicago for what is supposed to be a forty-minute layover, I’m less than thrilled to read all flights are delayed. Hours. That means instead of arriving in New York at a reasonable hour, I’m not going to arrive until well after midnight. To say I’m frustrated is an understatement.
Adding to my frustration is the lack of anywhere to hang out, grab a beer, and watch Sports Center. After walking for what felt like an hour, I finally find a sports bar and settle in for a few beers and a burger. I try reaching Phoebe a few times but she doesn’t answer.
Finally, after two hours, we’re boarding our plane, and I’m hopeful I’ll be at my hotel without any more delays. I’m fucking exhausted. My Uber driver seems to be on a mission to get me to my hotel, safety and caution be damned. I don’t blame him, I imagine there is a lot of money to be made this time of night in the city. I swipe my screen to bring up my phone to text Phoebe when I see she’s already sent me a text.
Phoebe: How’s it going?
I start tapping a response while I look up to see that my driver has moved all of one car length in the last ten minutes. Great.
Me: Landed and in my Uber. Stuck in city traffic.
Phoebe: At least you landed. How’s the weather?
Me: The five minutes I was outside, it sucked. The humidity is no joke, babe.
Phoebe: Eww.
Me: Why are we texting. I’ll call you.
Phoebe: I’m out so I won’t be able to hear.
Me: Oh, where are you guys?
Phoebe: Jackson took us to some hole in the wall Mexican place for dinner. The fish tacos are TO DIE FOR!
Jackass. Of course.
Me: Your taco is the only one I think is to die for.
Phoebe: OMG! You did NOT say that! You’re horrible.
Phoebe: *giggles* WAIT. Are you trying to sext me, Secksin?
Me: I wasn’t but I can. What are you wearing?
I pause between texts to see if our car as moved at all. There’s a little progress but I don’t think we’ve moved more than one or two blocks. I confirm with my driver that we should arrive at my hotel within the next fifteen minutes. Enough time for me to play with Phoebe.
Me: I’m waiting . . . impatiently.
Phoebe: I had to go outside. I can’t sit there with everyone while I tell you I’m wearing a pair of cut-off jean shorts and a tank top.
Phoebe: What do you think of that?
Me: No bra? No panties?
Phoebe: Nope.
Me: Phoebe.
Me: You better not be commando.
Me: Woman!
Phoebe: Chill out. And, don’t woman me. I have a bathing suit on! You’re so gullible.
Me: That was cruel.
Phoebe: Come on, you know me better than that. Kelsey and I were lying out this afternoon and then we decided to go do some day drinking. We just met the guys here a couple of hours ago.
Me: I miss you.
Phoebe: You’ve been gone like twelve hours.
Me: So.
Phoebe: I miss you too.
Phoebe: What if
Me: What?
Phoebe: nvm. I have to go back in. Call me before you go to sleep.
Me: You’ll tell me what you were going to say?
Phoebe: It’s just the mojitos talking. Get checked in and call in me in a bit. xx
Me: Love you
Phoebe: <3
Four days. I’m only gone four days. That’s doable. We can go four days without each other I remind myself as the car pulls up in front of my hotel. I open the door as the driver pops the trunk, and I tell him I’ll get the bag before closing the door.
Once my suitcase is out of the trunk and my messenger bag slung over my shoulder, I enter the double doors. The cool air inside is a welcome greeting, and I allow a few minutes for my skin to tingle as it adjusts to the temperature change. After exchanging pleasantries with the front desk clerk, and telling her no less than four times I have a girlfriend, I go to my room. Exhaustion from the long day hits me like a ton of bricks, and I strip off my clothes. I’m going to take a long shower and wash the airplane funk off me before I review my notes and call Phoebe. Thankfully, tomorrow is my meeting with the headhunter, and I don’t
have any interviews until the next day.
I grab the small bag that holds my soap and shaving kit and head to the bathroom. Before I get there, I look around the room and realize it’s going to be a long few days by myself.
Eye on the prize. A good job to give Phoebe a life she deserves, we deserve. That’s the prize. Maybe if I put it out in the universe, someone will make sure it happens.
Four days my ass. I was supposed to be heading home on the fourth day but instead two of the companies I interviewed called me back for a second interview. So, instead I’ve been here five full days and am finally leaving this afternoon. When I called Phoebe to tell her what was happening she said all the right things. She told me she was proud of me, and she expected nothing less. Of course, she told me she missed me and how much she hated sleeping alone. But, it wasn’t what she said, it was what she didn’t say and how she sounded. She wasn’t sassy, and she didn’t talk about how this was a good thing for me. For us. When I told her I’d be landing too late for her to pick me up, and I’d pay the extra money for an Uber, she didn’t try to stop me. That was a little disappointing to say the least.
I know Phoebe is having fun, and she’s making friends with the two girls she works with at the shop. Making friends hasn’t been easy for my girl, and it makes me happy to hear her connecting with them. Each time we talk, and even in our text messages, I can tell she loves the break from everyday life and is enjoying our summer in California.
When we talked last night, she went on and on for over an hour while I listened to her giggle and jabber on like a kid at Disneyland. Apparently, she was some sort of fashion super hero yesterday and managed to save a woman from an embarrassing moment while at the grocery store. The woman had turned down the aisle in front of her and Phoebe quickly pulled her aside to tell her not only was her skirt tucked into her underwear, but her shirt was on inside out. The woman was both embarrassed and grateful. Phoebe watched her young children while the woman rushed to the store’s restroom to right herself. After chatting a little, Phoebe told her she was only in town for the summer and where she was working temporarily. Yesterday the same woman came into shop with two of her friends and dropped a pretty penny. The sale was a big deal for the little store and made everyone very happy. Especially Phoebe.
Summer Break (Phoebe & Madsen Part 2) Page 5
