I laughed. "It's cool. You're passionate. There's nothing wrong with that. Wait till you meet my friend Lucy. You guys would get along so well. She's always reading at the-"
"You want me to meet your friends?" she asked, there was confusion in her voice, but hopefulness too.
"Why wouldn't I?"
She shrugged and took a seat in front of the cd rack and started reading out album names loudly, occasionally pulling one out. I sat on the floor next to her and waited. "You really do like everything. There's hip-hop, pop, reggae, country?" Her head whipped to mine.
I shrugged, "I'm eclectic."
"You have every John Mayer album and single ever released." She pulled one out and looked on the back.
I bought her to me so she was straddling me again. She didn't refuse, but her eyes never left the CD. "So what's the deal with John Mayer?"
I started kissing her neck. I couldn't help it. Her head tilted to the side, giving me better access. "Hey, don't knock John Mayer. He's practically a God," I said, pulling back to face her. "Your Body Is A Wonderland is a fucking anthem. Do you know how many times I've gotten lai-" I caught myself quickly, "...ooked at...while that song's played?"
She laughed, pulling back from my mouth. "How many times have you been 'layooked' at?" She giggled some more. "I don't think 'layook' is word."
"It is so a word. Google it."
She pushed me until I fell flat on my back. Then her hand was in my pocket. My body jerked when her hand brushed against my dick. "What are you doing?"
She smirked, holding my phone in her hand. "Googling your imaginary word." She slid her finger across the screen and started typing, "So, unless I'm spelling it wrong, layook is not a word."
She raised her eyebrows at me.
I grabbed the phone from her hand and threw it across the room. "Yeah, you spelt it wrong." I sat up and started kissing her neck again, moving lower to her chest. I heard her moan quietly. My fingers on her waist dug into her skin the closer I got to her tits. She grabbed my head in both her hands and made me face her.
"How do I always end up in this position," she said, her arms around my neck.
I kissed her a couple times. "I like this position. In fact, consider this permanent."
She laughed into my mouth before pushing me back down onto my back.
"So." Her fingers started roaming my chest, and lower to my abs, her eyes following. "I'm not going to ask—about what happened when you were younger—but you said that you didn't speak for a while—what changed?" Her eyes moved up to meet mine.
I looked at her, trying to decide how much of myself I want to give her.
"What do you mean?" I asked, giving myself time.
"Well, what helped you to talk again? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I'm sorry. It's probably extremely personal. Never mind—"
"If I tell you, then you have to tell me something about you. Deal?"
She nodded.
"Okay," I sat up slightly, leaning on my elbows. "My dad made up this game, to help me. It's called two truths for fifteen."
"How do you play?"
"It's so stupid, you're going to laugh."
"No I won't. Swear it." She pouted.
"It's just—" I laughed at how stupid it was going to sound. "We asked each other a question and had to tell the truth, and we talked about it for fifteen minutes. See? Stupid."
"It's not stupid. It's really sweet. Your dad seems like a nice guy."
"He is. He's the best." Truth. "Your turn."
She eyed the ceiling a moment, before answering. "You know how I hate blood?" I jerked my head in a nod. "It kind of really sucks, because I want to be a midwife." She paused and waited. "You can laugh now."
"Why? It's not funny. That sucks. Why midwife though?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I love the idea of bringing life into the world. Being one of the first to hold a miracle, you know? Babies—that's what they are. Miracles. I guess I like kids, too. Always have. So I'll just settle for childcare. Hopefully that won't involve too much blood." She chuckled to herself.
"It's called Hemophobia, you know? The fear of blood."
Her eyes went wide. "I know that. But how do you?"
I shrugged. I wasn't about to tell her I googled it the night I met her at Jake's house. "They say it's normally caused by trauma in childhood, or adolescence. Did something happen?"
She looked away. "Nope. Not that I know of," she said quickly. "So, that's me. I'm pretty boring."
"No, you most definitely are not boring."
She rolled her eyes, "You're just saying that because you want to get layooked."
I laughed. Hard.
She laughed with me, leaning into me hard enough that we both end up laying down, her on top of me.
I brushed the hair away from her face "I like you, Amanda. You're something else."
She leaned down and kissed me. Slowly. Softly. Then she pulled back, covered her mouth, and let out the biggest yawn known to man.
I had to laugh. "Am I boring you?"
She shook her head, still yawning. It ended with a grunt. "No, Logan. I'm so sorry. I'm just so tired. I normally have a quick nap after work, but I didn't and I guess—"
I cut in, "It's fine."
She sat up, and stretched.
I sat up, too. Then we just looked at each other. We both knew it was time, but I sure as hell didn't want it to be over.
She smiled sadly at me. "I guess you should probably take me home."
I broke our gaze and looked down. "Yeah, I guess." I ran the back of my fingers on her palm and the inside of her wrist.
"Yeah, I guess," she said quietly. I lifted my eyes to hers; she was looking down at our hands. "Or—I mean, I just need a power nap, and I'm good to go. Fifteen minutes," she said. Her eyes came back to mine, she looked unsure of herself.
I couldn't help the grin that took over. Maybe—just maybe—she felt the same for me as I felt for her.
I picked her up and walked over to the bed, lifted the covers and lowered her onto it. I kissed her on her forehead. "Goodnight, pretty girl."
"Where are you going?" She pulled on my hand.
I shrugged.
She scooted over.
I didn't even hesitate.
Then we just lay there, side by side, on our backs.
I felt the bed move and turned my head. She was on her side, her eyes half closed. "Just a quick powernap," she assured. I don't know whether she was speaking to herself or me.
"Okay," I said.
Then she scooted closer. I turned to my side and did the same. Her eyes opened fully, then locked on mine.
"You want me to meet your friends?" she asked, there was confusion in her voice, but hopefulness too.
"Why wouldn't I?"
She shrugged and took a seat in front of the cd rack and started reading out album names loudly, occasionally pulling one out. I sat on the floor next to her and waited. "You really do like everything. There's hip-hop, pop, reggae, country?" Her head whipped to mine.
I shrugged, "I'm eclectic."
"You have every John Mayer album and single ever released." She pulled one out and looked on the back.
I bought her to me so she was straddling me again. She didn't refuse, but her eyes never left the CD. "So what's the deal with John Mayer?"
I started kissing her neck. I couldn't help it. Her head tilted to the side, giving me better access. "Hey, don't knock John Mayer. He's practically a God," I said, pulling back to face her. "Your Body Is A Wonderland is a fucking anthem. Do you know how many times I've gotten lai-" I caught myself quickly, "...ooked at...while that song's played?"
She laughed, pulling back from my mouth. "How many times have you been 'layooked' at?" She giggled some more. "I don't think 'layook' is word."
"It is so a word. Google it."
She pushed me until I fell flat on my back. Then her hand was in my pocket. My body jerked when her hand brushed against my dick. "What are you doing?"
She smirked, holding my phone in her hand. "Googling your imaginary word." She slid her finger across the screen and started typing, "So, unless I'm spelling it wrong, layook is not a word."
She raised her eyebrows at me.
I grabbed the phone from her hand and threw it across the room. "Yeah, you spelt it wrong." I sat up and started kissing her neck again, moving lower to her chest. I heard her moan quietly. My fingers on her waist dug into her skin the closer I got to her tits. She grabbed my head in both her hands and made me face her.
"How do I always end up in this position," she said, her arms around my neck.
I kissed her a couple times. "I like this position. In fact, consider this permanent."
She laughed into my mouth before pushing me back down onto my back.
"So." Her fingers started roaming my chest, and lower to my abs, her eyes following. "I'm not going to ask—about what happened when you were younger—but you said that you didn't speak for a while—what changed?" Her eyes moved up to meet mine.
I looked at her, trying to decide how much of myself I want to give her.
"What do you mean?" I asked, giving myself time.
"Well, what helped you to talk again? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I'm sorry. It's probably extremely personal. Never mind—"
"If I tell you, then you have to tell me something about you. Deal?"
She nodded.
"Okay," I sat up slightly, leaning on my elbows. "My dad made up this game, to help me. It's called two truths for fifteen."
"How do you play?"
"It's so stupid, you're going to laugh."
"No I won't. Swear it." She pouted.
"It's just—" I laughed at how stupid it was going to sound. "We asked each other a question and had to tell the truth, and we talked about it for fifteen minutes. See? Stupid."
"It's not stupid. It's really sweet. Your dad seems like a nice guy."
"He is. He's the best." Truth. "Your turn."
She eyed the ceiling a moment, before answering. "You know how I hate blood?" I jerked my head in a nod. "It kind of really sucks, because I want to be a midwife." She paused and waited. "You can laugh now."
"Why? It's not funny. That sucks. Why midwife though?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I love the idea of bringing life into the world. Being one of the first to hold a miracle, you know? Babies—that's what they are. Miracles. I guess I like kids, too. Always have. So I'll just settle for childcare. Hopefully that won't involve too much blood." She chuckled to herself.
"It's called Hemophobia, you know? The fear of blood."
Her eyes went wide. "I know that. But how do you?"
I shrugged. I wasn't about to tell her I googled it the night I met her at Jake's house. "They say it's normally caused by trauma in childhood, or adolescence. Did something happen?"
She looked away. "Nope. Not that I know of," she said quickly. "So, that's me. I'm pretty boring."
"No, you most definitely are not boring."
She rolled her eyes, "You're just saying that because you want to get layooked."
I laughed. Hard.
She laughed with me, leaning into me hard enough that we both end up laying down, her on top of me.
I brushed the hair away from her face "I like you, Amanda. You're something else."
She leaned down and kissed me. Slowly. Softly. Then she pulled back, covered her mouth, and let out the biggest yawn known to man.
I had to laugh. "Am I boring you?"
She shook her head, still yawning. It ended with a grunt. "No, Logan. I'm so sorry. I'm just so tired. I normally have a quick nap after work, but I didn't and I guess—"
I cut in, "It's fine."
She sat up, and stretched.
I sat up, too. Then we just looked at each other. We both knew it was time, but I sure as hell didn't want it to be over.
She smiled sadly at me. "I guess you should probably take me home."
I broke our gaze and looked down. "Yeah, I guess." I ran the back of my fingers on her palm and the inside of her wrist.
"Yeah, I guess," she said quietly. I lifted my eyes to hers; she was looking down at our hands. "Or—I mean, I just need a power nap, and I'm good to go. Fifteen minutes," she said. Her eyes came back to mine, she looked unsure of herself.
I couldn't help the grin that took over. Maybe—just maybe—she felt the same for me as I felt for her.
I picked her up and walked over to the bed, lifted the covers and lowered her onto it. I kissed her on her forehead. "Goodnight, pretty girl."
"Where are you going?" She pulled on my hand.
I shrugged.
She scooted over.
I didn't even hesitate.
Then we just lay there, side by side, on our backs.
I felt the bed move and turned my head. She was on her side, her eyes half closed. "Just a quick powernap," she assured. I don't know whether she was speaking to herself or me.
"Okay," I said.
Then she scooted closer. I turned to my side and did the same. Her eyes opened fully, then locked on mine.
