“Baby, we’re going to make it. I believe in us. We’re more.”
A single tear spills from her eye, then another. “More,” she whispers as I thrust into her. I rotate my hips. Each movement takes me deeper into her. Each thrust, each sway of my hips, reminds Phoebe and me how much more we really are.
Touches and nibbles between us. The sounds of skin on skin with nothing surrounding us but sand and surf. I feel Phoebe’s climax building, and it only encourages me to go deeper. I lift her ass with my hands, giving me more access. It’s then that her breath hitches and her orgasm takes over. I follow seconds later but don’t pull out right away; I let her milk me.
I kiss her forehead, then each eye, both of which are still leaking with what I hope is love and not sadness, before settling on her mouth.
“Do you trust me?”
She nods.
“It’s going to be okay.”
“Okay.”
“I’m proud of you,” I say as I pull from her.
“For coming so hard?”
Her voice is teasing, and she’s sitting up with a smile on her face. A real smile. Not that bullshit half smile she gave me earlier. This is my Phoebe. The one who is full of sass and stubborn to the core. The girl who makes me laugh and the woman who makes me want to be a better man.
“Well, I mean you should be thanking me for that,” I tease, standing and pulling my shorts up as I watch her tug off her panties and wipe her leg. Downside to no more condoms—a mess.
“Whatever, ass. Oh look. You checked off one of my sexet list.”
“Sexet list?”
“Yeah, a sex bucket list.” Her tone tells me she’s rolling her eyes.
“Yep, looks like in the ocean is all that’s left.” I nod toward the black abyss next to us and chuckle.
Phoebe stuffs her panties in my pocket, which I think I’ll be keeping if we’re going to be doing this relationship from two different coasts. I grab her hand and pull her toward me, kissing her long and hard.
“Don’t be so sure. I’ve been reading a lot of smut while you were gone. I have ideas, and we only have two weeks left here.” She leaves me standing there stunned at her proclamation. Getting my bearings, I run to catch up to her, lift her over my shoulder, and walk quickly toward the water.
“Don’t you dare! It’s freezing!”
“Tell me what you’re talking about,” I demand while smacking her now completely bare ass.
“Mmm . . . maybe some of that.”
That stops me, and I put her down. Before I can say anything, she laughs and walks away. Like the good little puppy I am, I follow and listen as she laughs the entire way back to the stairs.
After our talk on the beach, Phoebe and I enjoy every day we have together. I’m exhausted from the lack of sleep so I know she must be a walking zombie. When Phoebe isn’t working, our mornings are long and slow in bed while our afternoons and evenings are spent with Duncan and Kelsey on the beach or in a bar. Thankfully, Jackass, or Jackson as I’ve promised to call him, doesn’t show up uninvited. Phoebe says he’s in San Francisco for a few days and is working to open another store there. That’s great for the company but even better for me because it means he’s not here.
Phoebe and I find a Chinese restaurant that delivers. The food is good and we make the most of their quick service. Again, in bed.
I’m spending more time on a board, and this morning, I drag my ass out of bed to hit Pleasure Point with Duncan. This is a prime location for surfing, and while I’m still a bit of a novice, I need to push myself out of my comfort zone. Surfing there is exactly that. Although, I probably should have gotten more than a few hours of sleep if I want to put my best foot forward today.
I’d like to blame Phoebe for the lack of sleep but last night it was Wine Phoebe who greeted me in bed. Wine Phoebe is naughty and likes to play a little more, pushing her inhibitions. I enjoy when Phoebe sends me pictures of wine bottles and a selfie of her drinking from them. Sex with her is always fantastic, and I never miss out, but a little extra kink in bed is never a bad thing.
“Dude, are you thinking about my sister?”
“What’re you talking about? I’m barely awake.”
“Uh huh, well you get that weird look on your face. It’s either you’re constipated or thinking of my sister. Really, the fact that both are the same look should tell you a lot.”
“Fuck off, man. Don’t talk about your sister like that.”
Duncan doesn’t bother responding to me. He walks toward the waves before I manage another word. Dating your best friend’s sister is more work than people think. There’s a fine line between letting my buddy razz me about his sister and wanting to kick his ass for talking shit about my girlfriend.
I don’t head out right away. I sit in the sand and think of these last few weeks with Phoebe. I leave in two days, and while I’m confident of my choices to move to New York and the company I’ll be working for, leaving Phoebe is eating at me. Mostly that Jackson Morgan is going to be here with her. Sure, she’ll be living alone for now and is planning on getting a roommate in the next few months, but until then, she’ll probably rely on Jackass for friendship. That thought makes me want to rearrange his face.
With my fist.
The smug look he always gives me when he hugs Phoebe hello or goodbye makes me move a long talk with Jackson about boundaries and friendship to the top of my to-do list. My conversation with him will probably piss Phoebe off, but if the shoe were on the other foot, she’d be doing the same thing. She already whines that the women in New York will be falling at my feet. Not likely. And, if they do, I’ll help them up and send them on their way because I’m spoken for.
I stand, pull the zipper of my wet suit up, and grab my board. This morning, my focus is one last day on the water. The sets are perfect, each wave breaking just as it should, the sound deafening. My heart races as I take off running; adrenaline shoots through my veins as I paddle out.
I am right. The sets are perfect, my last morning surfing in the Pacific Ocean damn near perfect. Well, except Duncan bitching about the shitty waves. Clearly, we have different views of perfection. I appease Duncan with the promise of street tacos and a beer. I text Phoebe and see if she can break away from work early. Her response is instantaneous.
Phoebe: I’m already done! Where are you guys? I’ll meet you!
Me: I promised your brother tacos and beers.
Phoebe: Perfect. See you in twenty. I’m waiting for my Uber.
I pocket my phone and order a beer while I wait for Phoebe. Duncan texts with Kelsey, and by the sounds coming from him, it’s of a sexual nature. As usual. As promised, Phoebe walks in twenty minutes later with Kelsey in tow. Kelsey jumps on Duncan’s lap, squealing with excitement as Phoebe nestles into my side and kisses me like she hasn’t seen me in days.
“What was that for?” I ask between kisses along her neck.
“I missed you. I’m going to miss you.”
“I’ll miss you, too. But I’ll see you in two months. We promised. No longer than two months.”
If I can get Phoebe to commit to no more than two months between seeing each other, eventually she’ll return the sentiment of love and, if I’m lucky, pack her bags and join me in New York. I never said I played fair or was a nice guy. All’s fair in love and war and all that.
“I know.” She sighs and pouts her lips. Her pink and suckable lips. Fuck, this girl makes me hard just standing next to me.
“Let’s get you some food and a drink. I have a feeling this is going to be a marathon night.”
“Hell yeah, it is!” Duncan shouts, holding his beer in the air. I raise mine, and we clink our glasses. Phoebe and Kelsey giggle and order a round of shots for everyone and a margarita each. Yep, marathon night.
Tacos, shots of ice cold Patron, and many beers later, we’re all stumbling out of the bar, waiting for our Uber. Phoebe is wrapped in my arms as the ocean breeze picks up and she shivers. I place a kiss on th
e top of her head and look over at Duncan and Kelsey who, as usual, have no worries about public displays of affection.
“Babe, I think I’m drunk.” I laugh because drunk is one way to put it.
“I think we all are, Phoebs. Oh, here’s our ride.” I look at the app on my phone and back to the sedan that pulls up. I confirm the guy behind the wheel matches the photo on the app, Trigger. Yeah, Trigger. Fuck if I know what his parents were thinking, but I’m not going to add to the years of torment I’m sure this guy has endured.
Duncan and Kelsey slide in the backseat and I offer the front to Phoebe, but she insists I take it. I’m grateful because folding myself in and out of a backseat is not my favorite thing to do when I’m sober, let alone shit-faced.
Trigger drops us off, and I tell Duncan to stop fake shooting at the poor bastard; I manage to get everyone in the house unscathed. I look at the clock on the microwave and confirm it’s not even eight o’clock. Upside to day drinking is we are home early. Downside, we’ll all be up at the ass-crack of dawn, starving. I toss waters to everyone and hand out ibuprofen like it’s candy then take Phoebe’s hand and guide her down the hall toward bed.
Silently, we take turns in the bathroom before undressing and climbing in bed. I tap the app on my phone for music to drown out the headboard banging the wall down the hall. Phoebe giggles and snuggles into me.
“They are kind of ridiculous.”
“Nah, babe. They’re just in love. And hornier than any other two people I’ve ever met. Seriously, what happened to your brother as a kid? It’s like he was raised by fucking bunnies or something else that humps a lot.”
“Eww, can we not talk about my brother humping? It’s bad enough I have to sleep with music on to drown out the noise. At least we’re quiet fuckers.”
“Phoebe, you are not quiet.”
Phoebe burrows her head in my shoulder as her leg crosses over mine and her hand slowly traces circles on my chest. “Am so.” A yawn replaces any indignation she’s attempting.
It isn’t long before my eyes are heavy, and we’re both asleep.
The sound of the zipper on my suitcase is like a stab to the gut. I realize this is it; I’m leaving behind not only a kickass summer but also my girl. The love of my life. My future. She’s staying here, in California, while I start a new job, a new part of my life three thousand miles away. She’s been silent since the alarm sounded a few hours ago. I make love to her. Not a quick fuck. Not anything other than reminding her how much we matter and how much she means to me.
I remind her we’re more.
Her sniffles as she pulls on a pair of jeans are killing me. I know this is important to her, and now that the day is here, she’s wondering if she should turn the job down and leave California with Duncan, Kelsey, and me. I told her yesterday, again this morning when we woke up, and even twenty minutes ago that this is important. I remind her of all the wonderful things she’s going to do and all of the amazing opportunities that are coming her way. I even conceded that she won’t be alone; Jackson is here.
Her mom has laid enough guilt on her, I don’t need to add to it. Her mom called me yesterday and begged me to bring her with me. She doesn’t know that if I managed that coup, Phoebe would be moving with me to New York.
I pull my suitcase from the bed and place it against the wall then wrap my arms around Phoebe’s waist. I nuzzle into her neck and place featherlight kisses to her skin. She shivers and I smile.
“Stop crying, baby. It’s two months. Eight weeks. If you give me a minute I’ll figure out how many hours. We’ll talk every day like we already do. And nothing could be hotter than phone sex and pictures. I promise to send you a dick pic every morning before I leave for work.”
Phoebe laughs and sniffles again before turning in my arms and lacing her hands behind my neck. “Promise?”
“I promise, I will not leave my apartment without first sending you a picture of my amazing and magical cock.”
“Shut up. I meant that we’ll be okay? I know I’ve been difficult, Mads. I’ve been drowning in my own shit and have sucked as a gir—” Phoebe is about to do the one thing she always says she won’t do, doesn’t need to do. Label us.
But, I cut her off with a kiss. She makes my fucking day. Hell, my whole damn life with finally defining our relationship. Labeling us. In retrospect, I should’ve let her say it.
A knock at the door startles Phoebe and causes her to break our kiss. Duncan reminds us we have five minutes until we need to leave. I pull Phoebe in for another kiss. Five minutes . . . I could give her one more orgasm, but when she woke me up this morning with her mouth wrapped around my dick, I sufficiently repaid her three times over. I think she’s good for the rest of the day.
“I meant to do something before I left, I should do that. Do you have Jackson’s number?”
My question must confuse Phoebe because she pulls back from my face confused.
“Of course, why?”
“I want to talk to him before I leave. Remind him that you are, in fact, taken but also to make sure he knows he’s responsible for you. If Dunc and I can’t be here, I need to know someone is keeping you safe. And as much as it kills me to say it, because I know he wants to get you in his bed, he’s the one for the job.”
Phoebe begins laughing. I’m not sure what she finds so funny; it’s the truth.
“It’s not funny.”
“Oh, yeah it is. Jackson is harmless. Besides, give me some credit. You know I’m not a cheater.”
I shrug, and she grabs my phone from my back pocket before tapping the screen intently. Once she’s done, she hands it back to me. I glance at the screen and laugh when I see what she’s put Jackson’s name under: Phoebe’s Personal Security.
“That’ll do. I’ll text him when I get to the airport. We should probably get going.”
Subdued, she nods and walks out the door. I follow, equally subdued.
The drive to the airport is quiet. Duncan and Kelsey know this is a difficult day for us. Kelsey asks a few questions about Phoebe coming home for dress fittings and to make sure she has the number of the wedding planner. Light conversation fills the time as we make our way up the winding mountain toward the airport.
Neither Phoebe nor I say much other than the occasional “yeah” to something Dunc or Kelsey say. Something Kelsey says to Phoebe reminds me of a conversation I overheard them having on the deck yesterday.
“I’m really bummed you aren’t coming with us, Phoebs.”
“I know but you know how excited I am for this job. Plus, I’ll see you in a few weeks for wedding stuff.”
I shouldn’t eavesdrop. It’s wrong, I know. I had a bad habit of this exact thing as a kid, listening to my sister talking to her friends. I learned when they think nobody is listening, girls talk. They share their most intimate secrets with their best friends. Guilt is eating at me, but I want to know we’re going to be okay. Phoebe has refused to discuss anything except each day, as it comes. I need to know I’m not making a mistake by moving to New York.
“And Mads?” Thanks, Kels for asking the big question.
“What about him? He’ll be great in his new job.”
“That’s not what I mean, and you know it. You still refuse to call him your boyfriend. We both know you are head over heels in love with that boy and him with you. Why won’t you just admit it?”
Phoebe doesn’t respond right away, and I grab the handle to move the slider open all the way. I want to tell her we don’t need a label. I don’t need her to call me her boyfriend. I know. But, before I make my presence known, she responds.
“I do. God, Kels, he’s everything. Why am I such an asshole?”
“You aren’t an asshole. You’re confused. For years you’ve insisted you hated Madsen. Then, you realized how close hate is to love and you fell for the poor bastard. I don’t even think Madsen cares about a title or whatever. He just wants to know you’re committed. That you love him.”
“I’ve t
old him I love him, Kels. It isn’t about that. It’s . . . trust and patience. That shit he pulled with Jackson. That wasn’t cool.”
“Are you kidding? Jackson has wanted in your pants since the day you stepped out of the car. I’m surprised Madsen didn’t pee on your leg to mark his territory sooner.”
I never made my presence known. I didn’t say anything to Phoebe. Kelsey was right. I don’t need a title or a big proclamation to the world. I just need to know where Phoebe stands and that she’s committed. That she believes we’re worth fighting for.
I look out the window and see planes taking off and realize we’re close to the airport. The reality of what is happening settles in. After what feels like seconds but is closer to thirty minutes, Duncan signals for the exit from the highway.
“Phoebs, Dad said to remind you about calling the bank tomorrow to confirm everything is settled for your car.”
“I’ll remember.” Her voice is sullen, and my heart is beating a mile a minute.
I wrap my fingers around her cheek, turning her to me. Her eyes meet mine, glossy and full of love. I swallow a lump in my throat. I lean down and tenderly kiss Phoebe; tears escape her eyes and I wipe them away.
“Okay kids, we’re here. Hopefully returning this car will be painless.” Duncan pulls up to the car rental place and we exit the car. In just a few minutes, Duncan finalizes the paperwork and the worker does his walk around the car. I catch him eyeing Phoebe a few times and suddenly getting on this plane seems like a horrible idea. As usual, she’s oblivious to how beautiful she is and how often men stare at her.
The shuttle ride to the terminal is quiet as Duncan tells tall tales of his surfing skills to the man next to him and Kelsey chatters on about her engagement and upcoming wedding to the man’s wife. Phoebe looks off in the distance through the window, and I hold her hand while laying my head back against the window. As the bus pulls up next to the curb, Phoebe pulls out her phone and taps the Uber icon. The bus comes to stop, the brakes squeaking loudly, and she takes a deep breath before standing. She walks ahead of me off the bus and waits by the curb as Duncan, Kelsey, and I wait for our bags to be placed on the sidewalk. Each of us take our bag and begin walking to the terminal. Phoebe holds my hand tightly and still says nothing. We checked in yesterday so all we have to do is check our bags at the counter. Phoebe stands next to me, but when the woman at the counter inquires as to her bags, Phoebe breaks free of my hand and runs away.
Summer Break (Phoebe & Madsen Part 2) Page 7
