Picking Peaches (Rosewood)

by Ansley B. Calloway

​That smile could light up entire oceans. Fuck lighthouses.

Knowing her, talking with her, and feeling her look at me was overwhelming.

Ashton kept his eyes on mine and I felt his foot nudge mine under the table.

FOOTSIES

Instead of thinking less about Georgia since I was seeing her less, my body felt like it was in withdrawal. My hands kept seeking her out everytime she was close to me.

The woman could bring another man home and I would still be watching the clock waiting for her to be ready.

Did she really need to ask if I wanted her there? I wasn’t sure how to be more clear about the fact that I wanted no one but her to be around for the rest of our lives.

In what world was there debate about if I wanted her around all of the time. I made a mental note to say it out loud the next time we were alone.

Staring at her was like looking at the sun for too long sometimes. She was so bright and lovely it physically hurt.

And I wanted her. More than anything. So much so I was willing to wait lifetimes if it meant Georgia Mitchell would be mine and I would be hers.

Volleyball would always be my first love but since we met I had discovered even better things to love.

“Come on then. Let’s get my sleepy girls in bed.”

It was like a sexier version of bay watch, seeing sweaty tall men with huge muscles running and lunging for the ball.

She was everything, this was everything. I would never be able to let her go. I needed her more than I needed air.

“Don’t take too long please.” His voice sounded low and desperate. Ashton Reid was needy in the morning.

there was no doubt in my mind Georgia was the only one I would ever want.

“I didn’t know you wanted to play house with me.” ​I didn’t even hesitate to roll my eyes. “I’ll play house with you any time Mrs. Reid.”

I really wanted him. More than anything I had ever wanted in my entire life. Ashton Reid had found his way into my heart and I wanted nothing more than for him to keep it and hold onto it for safekeeping.

​He was mine now. Just as much as I was his. Which meant these tattoos were mine. I could look at them and touch them and feel them whenever I wanted. Ashton Reid was mine.