That’s why when I finished my last interview last night, I packed my shit and went to the airport. I managed to change my flight, and dropped money I shouldn’t have, to get back to California. None of this feels right. Being away from Phoebe, her not really talking to me about what I’m doing. It feels . . . off. I texted Duncan a few hours ago, and he told me the bar they were going to tonight, and I decided I’d surprise them.
The Uber drops me at our house, and I rush to shower and change my clothes before heading to the bar. One of Phoebe’s weaknesses is me in a collared golf shirt. It’s the most random thing, but she told me one night it gets her “fluttery.” Whatever that is. So, tonight I pull on one of my navy golf shirts, a pair of khaki cargo shorts, and slip on my flip-flops. California casual but still me. I show the bouncer my ID and enter the loud bar. The band on the stage is pretty good, covering a classic Steve Miller Band song, with a large crowd in front of them. I scan the room for Phoebe but don’t see her. I spot Duncan at the bar and make my way over, slapping him on the shoulder when I approach.
“What the fu—hey, man. When’d you get back?” Duncan shakes my hand as he signals the bartender for another beer.
“Thanks,” I say, taking the bottle from the bar and taking a long swig, draining half the bottle. “Got in about two hours ago. I stopped at the house and changed.” I turn my back to the bar and begin scanning again.
“The girls went up to the front to be closer to the band. They’re pretty good.” Duncan motions toward the stage as I turn and signal the bartender for another beer. The band transitions to a slower song, the crowd disburses a little, and I spot Phoebe’s hair. Long and flowing naturally, I smile because she hates her natural waves, but I love them. Her back is to me so she can’t see me, and as soon as I get my beer I’m going to let her know I’m here.
The crowd on the dancefloor is milling around so I can’t make out what she’s wearing, but I’m sure she looks amazing. Just as the bartender sets a fresh beer next to me, the crowd separates a little, and I see my girl in full. She’s wearing a dress with skinny straps that hugs every curve she has and stops about mid-thigh. I follow her long tan legs and note she’s wearing a pair of flip-flops, and I laugh. Until we came to Santa Cruz, Phoebe only wore flip-flops if we were heading to the lake or park. She’s adapted to the laid-back life here, and it makes me happy.
That is until an arm circles her shoulders and turns her in my direction. The band finishes their song and indicates they’ll be back after a short break. The house music plays through the speakers, quieter than the band, making it easier for conversation.
I turn my attention from the arm around Phoebe to its owner. Jackson. Every caveman tendency I have takes over my body. The hand not holding my beer flexes and rage pulses through my veins, pounding in my ears. I’m two seconds from pummeling this bastard.
“What’s he doing here?” I growl.
“Who?”
I motion toward Phoebe, who is now turned and laughing at something Jackson says. I watch intently and pay no attention to the likely logical explanation Duncan is giving me because Phoebe looks away from Jackson and toward me. The minute she spots me, her smile grows tenfold. I set the bottle down and walk directly toward her. Long strides get me to her in seconds because Phoebe meets me halfway.
I scoop her up with one arm and kiss her. This is the kind of kiss that would cause her mom to gasp and clutch her non-existent pearls. Okay, it’s borderline pornographic and, I don’t fucking care. Phoebe and I haven’t been apart more than a day since spring break and these five days have been torture. Her preference for minimal PDA can kick rocks.
“What are you doing here?” Phoebe asks between kisses to her neck. She pushes my shoulders, forcing me to stop my assault and look at her. Her mouth looks like it’s thoroughly kissed and her eyes are wide and full of lust.
“Surprise! I missed you and didn’t see why I should wait to see you when all I was doing was sitting around pining.”
“Pining? Are you reading romance, Secksin?”
“Nah, I heard it on a Hallmark commercial or something.”
We laugh as I place a quick peck to her lips and set her feet back on the ground. Her hands go around my neck and pull me down for another kiss. I oblige, because I’m a nice guy.
“How many mojitos have you had, babe?” Phoebe’s flirtier than usual and I like it.
“Enough to not care I’m acting like that girl.” She giggles. “But, not enough that I’m willing to close the front door. You know”—she winks and giggles more— “the front door.” On boy. Yeah, I know what she means. So does my six-day deprived dick. “I’m ready to bail.”
“I just got here. I wore a collared shirt, at least let me listen to the band for a minute,” I tease. I’m also full of shit.
“Oh. I mean, okay,” she mumbles pulling away from me.
“Kidding, let’s get the fuck out of here so I can get you out of that dress.”
“You’re cruel,” she teases as I spot Jackson approaching us.
“Phoebe, how about that drink we were going to get?”
“I think we’re leaving,” I tell him. My tone leaving no room for dispute.
“Maybe another time, Jackson. Madsen flew in early to surprise me so we’re going to take off.”
“I didn’t realize . . .” Jackson doesn’t finish his sentence because I straighten my back and take step forward.
“Didn’t realize what? That we’re together? That my girl is spoken for? Well, she is.”
I feel Phoebe’s hand on my bicep. “Mads.” Her tone is sweet but also full of warning. She hates the macho guy attitude. It’s one of her biggest pet peeves, and I know this. But, fuck this guy needs to find his place. And, it’s not with my girl.
“I’ve never heard Fancy refer to a boyfriend so I assumed this wasn’t serious,” Jackson says, motioning toward us.
“Sorry to burst your bubble, but you thought wrong. It is. We’re here a few more weeks, and I know your friendship with both Phoebe and Duncan is important to them. But, make no mistake . . .” I pause and look at Phoebe, who isn’t showing her cards but I can tell is slightly turned on and completely pissed. She may protest, but Phoebe secretly loves a little alpha male behavior. I wrap my arm around her waist and tug her to my side. “This relationship is very serious. Phoebe is not available, and when we leave here, we’ll be moving to New York. Together.”
I haven’t told Phoebe about the emails with offers from two companies I interviewed with. I still need to look over the details, but the offers are close to identical. It’s just a matter of which company I think is a better fit. This is a decision that affects us both, so I wanted to wait and talk it over with Phoebe. One position includes more travel, which won’t necessarily be a bad thing if it’s an opportunity for more growth down the road. But, it will mean being away from Phoebe, and if this week has told me anything, it isn’t what I want.
“New York? I thought you were thinking about the position?” Jackson seems confused by my announcement as he looks at Phoebe. I follow suit and note she’s biting on her nail. Phoebe does not bite her nails.
“Babe?”
“Uh, we should go. See ya, Jackson.” Phoebe grabs my hand and drags me out the door.
She interlaces our fingers as we walk but never speaks. Within minutes we’re at our house, and she walks straight to the back patio and sits on one of the chaise lounges. Neither of us has spoken a word since Jackson asked about New York. Instead of lying on the lounger next to her, I nudge Phoebe to sit up and squeeze in behind her, pulling her to my chest.
I inhale her scent as my arms wrap around her waist. Phoebe settles into me and tilts her head, resting it on my shoulder. Neither of us speak for a while. I know her wheels are turning, and she has a lot on her mind. I enjoy the quiet before she sits up and faces me, settling on my lap so she’s straddling me.
“Talk to me, babe.”
Phoebe takes a deep breath and looks do
wn. When she looks up her eyes have a shimmer and it’s my turn to take in a deep breath. Phoebe doesn’t cry. Phoebe doesn’t do the typical girl emotional bullshit. It’s one of the things I love about her. She’s fearless. She doesn’t doubt who she is, and I thought up until now, she didn’t doubt us.
“Jackson offered me a job.” She turns her gaze off into the distance. Distance. It’s all I feel between us.
“Yeah, I know. You’ve been working at the store a few weeks.”
“No, a bigger job. I’d join the marketing and purchasing department for the company. Not just working in one shop. Well, I’d actually be the marketing and purchasing department.” She giggles a little before I turn her face toward me, my eyebrow raised for her to continue. “I’d work with each of the shops and eventually, if the company grows as he plans, with the corporate offices.”
“I see.”
“That’s it? You see?” Her tone changes from slightly timid to stern. “This is huge for me, Madsen. It turns out, I’m not just fun to hang out with. I can do more than sell a few tops and dresses to tourists. I’m good at this, and I’ve made a difference in the shop. Jackson thinks—” I scoff, which stops her from continuing. “You’re jealous.”
“Of what? Jackson? Please.” I am jealous.
“You are. This isn’t about you, Madsen. This is about me.” She climbs off my lap and runs her hands through her hair before pulling it into a messy bun. “Why can’t you support me? This is huge. You know I’m faltering. You know I don’t know what I want to do with my life. This job . . . it’s something I can do. Something that makes me happy. For once, it isn’t about what is expected of me, or not expected. It isn’t what is good for everyone else. It’s something just for me.”
“Babe,” I begin.
“No. No. You don’t get to “babe” me. God! I’m so sick everyone placating me. I get it. It’s not a big fancy New York job. It’s not law school. Sorry to disappoint everyone!”
Phoebe stomps off the deck to the stairs leading to the beach. What the fuck just happened? Three hours ago, I was getting off a plane to surprise my girlfriend. I had amazing news to share with her that would ultimately change our lives. Now, she’s in tears, I’m standing here alone, and for the first time in our relationship, I realize I may lose her.
I contemplate leaving Phoebe alone. Give her time to process whatever is going on with her, but I can’t. That’s not how we are and that’s not who we are. We talk. She’s my best friend. I’m hers. We are more than this.
More.
Just like I promised her.
I follow her down the steps and the moment my feet hit the sand, I see her standing in the distance, her feet just where the water breaks along her toes. Even though it’s been warm all day, the water must be freezing tonight. We’ve only been here a few weeks, not enough time for us to acclimate like the locals. Phoebe’s arms are wrapped around her waist as she looks at the ocean. I’m about to call her name when I see her wipe her cheek, and I know she’s crying.
Fuck.
I approach slowly, and before I’m able to say anything, she speaks.
“I need this, Mads.”
I hear desperation and sadness in her voice. A piece of me breaks. Yeah that’s probably not the most masculine thing I’ve said, but I love this girl. Phoebe Stromberg is the strongest and most amazing person I know. She may not think so, and she definitely doesn’t give herself enough credit. But I know who she is and how resilient she is. Those are all the reasons why, when I hear the pain in her voice, I want to throw away both of my job offers and give her everything she wants.
Everything she deserves.
Instead, I wrap my arms around her waist, tugging her back to my front, allowing a space for her to nestle her head between my shoulder and neck. I don’t say anything for a few minutes. I know this is a moment for us. One of those pivotal ones we’ll look back on as a make-it-or-break-it situation. I kiss her temple and tighten my hold on her.
“I know, babe. I’m not trying to sound like a dick. I promise. It’s . . . well, I have some news myself.”
Phoebe turns toward me, her hands resting on my hips, looking up at me through her lashes. Dammit.
“I have offers.”
“Offers? As in, more than one?” She smiles at me but it’s a half-smile. Not a “I’m so happy for you, love of my life” kind of smile. I kiss her tenderly before smiling.
“Yep. Two.” I tug her closer to me, tightening my grip on her hips. She smiles as she rests her hands on my biceps, absentmindedly rubbing circles.
“That’s wonderful. I’m so proud of you. Did you choose one?” She’s trying too hard to convey support, but I can tell it’s forced.
“No. I wanted to talk to you about it. About us, really. Which position would work best for us. One is more travel and, while it also means more money and opportunity, it would mean I’d be gone a lot. And, both are in New York. I know we haven’t talked about moving there, but, Phoebe, it’s New York City.”
“You should take whichever is best for your career.”
“No. I will not make a decision alone. This isn’t just about me, babe. This is about us.”
Phoebe pulls from my embrace and starts walking down the shoreline. I follow her. The moonlight spotlights the sand, and I watch her dodge a few big pieces of driftwood. After a few strides, I fall in step alongside her and grab her hand. Neither of us speaks, the only sounds are the waves rolling in and the occasional voice from the homes above. I know Phoebe well enough to know she’s processing everything and weighing her options. I’m sure she’s created some sort of list in her mind and has rearranged it at least twice already. I stop and start to sit on the sand while pulling Phoebe’s hand, drawing her onto my lap.
“Talk to me. I don’t like this silence thing.” I’m not opposed to begging for communication. I’ll bust out the big guns. And by guns I don’t mean my dick. I mean the words in her cheesy romance movies.
Adjusting herself so she’s straddling me, Phoebe places her hands on my face. It’s like she’s memorizing it. The moonlight is enough that I can make out the glossiness of her eyes. “I want to stay here,” she whispers. “I know it’s not what you want to hear, but I think I need this.”
My hands go to the top of her head, slowly caressing her hair until I reach her shoulders. I push her long hair back from her face and off her shoulders, wrapping it around my hand before pulling her face forward for a kiss. Slow at first, I take her lips with mine. She lets me, sweetly and cautiously at first. It reminds me of childhood kisses, nothing like the passion Phoebe and I have now. Tugging at her bottom lip with mine, I suck a little, which causes Phoebe to gasp. I take that as my opportunity to deepen the kiss. With each stroke of my tongue, I feel her melt into me. In seconds, we’re wrapped up in each other, so close our hearts sync, and I hope she knows this is it. This is what it’s all about. This feeling of us together, the way we fit together. Ying and yang.
I know she’s been lost, not knowing where she’s headed in life. I don’t care if she figures out a career. I’ll take care of Phoebe for the rest of her life if she’ll let me. But, I also know that will kill her. She’d lose her independence, and that’s not who she is. She needs this job, this opportunity.
But, I do too. Job offers aren’t being handed out to recent graduates, and I recognize this is a once in a lifetime opportunity for me. For each of us; it’s our time. That may mean we’re apart for a while.
“Mads,” she moans as I lift my hips creating friction between us. The skirt of her dress is up around her hips, and if someone were to walk by, they’d see her ass, and I’d have to beat their ass. Thankfully, this beach is deserted.
“Phoebe,” I begin before pulling away from her. I look at my girl, and while I can’t see the expression on her face, I know what she’s feeling. “Baby, I want you with me . . .”
“But, I . . .”
“Let me finish, Phoebs.” I kiss her again, forcing her to stop
talking. My hands move down her ass and grip it. A smile greets my movement, and I do it again but this time receive a moan. Sliding one finger around to the front I rub the place I know sends Phoebe over the edge in seconds. I’ve been gone a week; we’re both horny as fuck.
“As much as I want you with me in New York, and forever, I know you, and if you think you need to be here then that’s where you need to be. I love you, baby.” My finger makes small circles over her bundle of nerves, never slipping under her thong as she begins to move her hips ensuring her orgasm will hit her in seconds. “We’ll figure this out. We can have it all. Just maybe not today.”
Before I finish the last words, Phoebe unravels on my lap. Her orgasm is quick and intense. Her breathing is labored, and mine isn’t far off. Watching her come beats any other moment in my day. Before she can settle, I flip her over so she’s on her back with me nestled between her legs. I kiss her neck, and she writhes beneath me. Phoebe’s nails scratch my back as she rubs her hands under my shirt and up my back. Chills blanket my skin with goosebumps, and I tug her panties down as she quickly moves her hands to the button of my shorts.
“Mads,” she whispers in my mouth while pulling my dick from my shorts and boxers. Her feet lift to my hips and try to tug my shorts down but make no progress. I lift onto my knees and slide them down so they sit on my thighs as Phoebe pulls the skirt of her dress up. I stop to look at her, and as much as it kills me, I know things are changing.
I pull the top of her dress down so her nipples pop out. The breeze, and probably how turned on she is, cause them to harden into beautiful peaks. My fingers tug on one as I lean down, holding myself up with my forearm. Phoebe’s back arches, lifting her chest, and I take her nipple in my mouth. Sucking. Tugging. She squirms, and I line myself up to her as she tugs her panties aside. Before I remind her how great we are together as one, I pause and look at her.
Summer Break (Phoebe & Madsen Part 2) Page 6
