“You snuggle?” she asked, turning her head on the pillow to look at me, face a mix of dubious and hopeful.
“The fuck kind of pussy-ass guys you dating who don’t like to snuggle?” I asked. “Though, to be honest, I haven’t been a snuggler in the past, but it suddenly sounds like a good idea. So let’s give it a try together, yeah?” I asked, curling my arm more tightly around her to pull her the rest of the way until she was up on my chest, her hair spread over me, her hand resting on my shoulder.
I knew pretty much immediately that it was something I liked. Maybe not with another woman, but with her? With the only person I’d ever really shared my story with, one who’d shared her story with me as well?
Yeah, with her, I wanted it.
“Hey, Dezi?” she called a few minutes later.
“Yeah?” I asked, my fingers absentmindedly sliding over her soft skin.
“I’m cold,” she admitted, leaning her head on my chest to smile up at me.
“I can fix that,” I declared, throwing my weight over, and pinning her to the bed under my body.
“This was not what I meant,” she told me, but she was laughing.
“This is something Zaddy never thought about with all his low body fat percentage. A little extra fat creates a furnace to keep the pretty ladies warm.”
“You’re suffocating me,” she declared.
“Rude to body shame me right after you took full advantage of said body,” I informed her, rolling off of her, then yanking the blankets up over her naked body.
“Where are you going?”
“We need donuts.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Theo
This was probably the most asinine thing ever, but a part of me was kind of worried I could suffocate on happiness.
I mean, it was like this pressure that built up from my core, working upward, and getting caught right there at the back of my throat, making me constantly feel a little bit like I was choking on it.
Maybe because it was so new to me.
My entire life since I was a little girl had been survival. Trying to avoid creepy johns, trying to get food in my belly, trying to keep my mom from overdosing.
Then, as I got older, trying to keep the lights on, dodge different kinds of creepy guys, stay fed, build a savings, hold down a job.
It was constantly going from one survival task to another, with short breaks of moderate enjoyment. Like partying or fucking or even attempting to date guys I had no business trying to date.
I never got to stop to take a breath, let alone look for something that genuinely, truly, right down to my bones, made me happy.
But there was no denying that was what was going on now.
And it wasn’t just Dezi and what was clearly growing between us.
It was Rosita.
It was Marie.
It was not going home to an empty place every single night of my life.
It was getting greeted with excited grunts and little purrs.
It was having someone to text when I had some movie reference pop into my head, and I wanted to know if he knew it.
It was a chest to sleep on. Someone to share a meal with. The hope of a future.
“Theodora,” my father said, jerking to a stop, not having expected me. “You… you look different,” he decided after his gaze moved over me.
“My bruises aren’t as angry-looking today,” I said, reaching up.
It had only been a couple of days since the accident, but the bruises had gone from an angry blue and purple to a less obnoxious greenish and yellow.
“No, it’s not that. Well, it’s not just that,” he said. “You just seem… less stressed, I guess.”
“Things have been… better lately,” I told him. “I guess I’ve just settled in more,” I added.
“How do you feel about Navesink Bank?”
“I like it. When I first moved here, it felt so small, but I am starting to realize that is the charm of it all.”
“I’ve always liked it. Could have chosen anywhere, but I like the diversity here. Close to the city, close to the beach, lots of parks, but every store and restaurant you could possibly need.”
“Exactly. And it’s kind of nice that you see familiar faces around.”
“Speaking of familiar faces,” he said as he walked into the kitchen, making a beeline for the coffee maker.
“Oh, God,” I grumbled, eyes closing tight as something cool and slimy moved through me. Complete discomfort.
I guess, in a way, I’d been “lucky” to have a less-than-stellar mom during the beginning of my dating life. She never would have noticed if I was seeing anyone, so she never would have brought it up to me.
Having it happen for the first time as a full-ass adult meant I had no way to prepare for it.
“Come on, allow me the joy of watching you squirm while I bring up your boyfriend.”