Page 27 of Forever Golden
Pretending to have been focused this whole time, my brow gathers when I count three devices instead of two. But before I can ask about the third, West explains.
“One for you, one for Scar, and… one for Ricky,” he adds with a sigh.
As usual, you could cut the animosity between them with a knife—despite Ricky being miles away—but the fact that West put their differences aside for a bit speaks volumes.
A fleeting thought enters my head—that I should mention Detective Roby to West—but no sooner than I think it, I change my mind. Yeah, heseemslike he’s trustworthy, but what if I’m wrong? What if telling him somehow only leads to more trouble? It’s very likely that Vin could find out I’ve talked, which could push him to hurt Scar. There are just so many unknowns, which is why, for now, I’m keeping my thoughts to myself.
Instead, I pick up the phone closest to the edge of the bed and study it, trying to figure out how in the world I’ll explain this to Scar in the morning, on top of all the other shit she’s suspicious about. But her misgivings are the least of our worries, I guess.
“I’d say thanks, but that feels kind of weird for some reason.”
A quiet laugh leaves West when he takes me around my waist, pulling me down on top of him.
“Maybe it feels weird because how fucked up are our lives that we have to do weird shit like buy new phones?” he reasons.
Straddling him now, my body collapses on top of his when he leans into the mattress. “Yeah. That’s it in a nutshell.”
He kisses the top of my hair, then I focus on his stare, feeling torn between not wanting to pry into the conversation he had with Vin, and also not wanting him to think I don’t care.
“You want to know how it went, don’t you?” he asks, grinning so big I’m not even sure why I was ever worried about bringing it up.
“Very much so,” I admit with a nod. “But first, tell me if it went better or worse than expected.”
A moment passes while he thinks.
“It was pretty much what I thought it’d be,” he answers. “I approached him, he tried feeding me more bullshit about the two of you being a thing, I got to say about ten percent of the shit Iwantedto say to his lying ass, then I left.”
There are details missing, but there’s no need to draw them out, no need to make him relive it. What matters is that he didn’t let Vin get under his skin, didn’t fall for his B.S. Had this been even a month ago, that conversation might’ve gone a very different way. Just goes to show he’s grown leaps and bounds since then.
“I was scared for you, but… I’m glad you did it,” I confess. “You were right. He needed to know you’re not his bitch.”
My phrasing makes him laugh and it rumbles through his chest and mine where I’m resting on top of him.
“You’ve got a way with words. You know that?” He rasps, lifting my chin until our lips touch once, then a second time. “And if I’m being honest… it makes me fucking want you.”
I breathe him in as both my palms sink into the mattress beside him. He’s locked between my legs, where I feel the truth in what he just said—hedoesfucking want me.
Heat from his fingers streaks up my torso where they disappear beneath my tank. Our impatience has us pulling at each other’s clothes—him tugging the straps of my bra down before finally unclasping it, me only bothering to shove his boxers and sweats down to his knees before pausing just long enough for him to slip on a condom. Then, I lower down onto him and it’s so obvious that we need this, need each other.
The green centers of West’s eyes leave me when they roll back in his head half a second before his lids close. We were too hasty to take precautions like turning on the radio to avoid Scar hearing us, which means I’ll have to keep my voice down—easier said than done when it comes to him.
“Slow down,” he warns in a breathy whisper. “Or I swear, you’re gonna be real fucking disappointed in about thirty seconds.”
Smiling, I ignore him, deciding to take my chances and ride him harder and faster than before.
“Fuck,” he groans, sinking his fingers deeper into my hips. “I mean it, Southside. Slow down.”
Like before, I pay his warning no attention.
The rhythmic creaking of my ancient box-spring is probably loud enough to be heard down the hall, but I’m almost there, too close to care. And I’m only taken closer when heat from West’s hands warms my tits. He grips them rough, making my nipples harden against his palms.
“Shit.”
That one whispered word seems to send him a message, lets him know I only need to be pushed a little. So, that’s what he does—pushes the right buttons, says the right things, until I swear he’s inside my head.
“I fucking love you,” he groans, sending my heartrate soaring when he adds, “And I love it when you come for me.”
Air breezes over my lips now that I’m panting, letting those words carry me over the edge. One of his hands leaves my chest to cover my mouth half a second before his name is on my lips. Then, without warning, he succumbs to the moment, too.