Wreck My Plans

by Jillian Meadows

To the ones who are still finding themselves. It’s okay to not have a plan yet, I promise.

But my own loneliness still hangs like a collar around my neck, reminding me I don’t have what my friends do.

I can be happy for them and sad for myself at the same time, I think. I’ve spent my whole life feeling that way.

My role is best friend supp...

I’m desperate for anything at this point. Slap me. Yell at me. Grin at me. Anything, as long as I get to see her face while she does it.

I want Lena’s company more than anyone else’s in the world, and it’s quite possible I will die still wishing for it.

But that’s why it’s so hard to admit to her that I’m listless right now, with no clear path in front of me for what will make me happy. I don’t even know what I want to work toward.

Instead, I was just empty.

Because the only thing I can think about is how much I missed him. I didn’t know how bad the pain of it had been until this moment.

I guess I was wrong about that, though. Because I didn’t know him well enough to predict he was going to disappear without telling me.

The view is only the most gorgeous woman in the goddamn world.

I want to wrap my arms around her and breathe that laughter right into my lungs and live off it.

The sight of her zings right through my body like I’ve been shocked by an electric jolt.

Do I get that smile just for laughing? Fuck, I should laugh more often.

but I know I’m not the kind of person who gets a romance like that. I’m doomed to be the side character to my friends’ love stories forever, and that’s fine. At least I get to see them happy.”

“I don’t know if I’ll get a love story. Lately it feels like I might be defective. Aside from my core group of family and friends, everyone else leaves. Like I don’t matter that much to them.”

“Starting with my sperm donor of a father, then every person I’ve tried to build a relationship with. And I know Millie didn’t leave me, but when I’m sitting in my empty house, it still feels a little bit like I got left behind. Everybody always leaves.”

“Your trauma isn’t invalid because you think mine is bigger. Your hurt matters too. And you’re allowed to talk about it, even with me.”

My whole life has been a lesson in how unworthy I am of love. There has never been anyone who chose me wholeheartedly or put me first, and I have a feeling it’s never going to be in the cards for me. I’m never going to find someone who embraces me exactly the way I am.

Loving her has never been the problem. In fact, it’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done.

Just last night, I told him he was like a brother to me. It might’ve been the biggest lie I’ve ever told. The reality is, I’ve seen him as a friend, a crush, a companion. But I’ve never seen him as a brother.

Can I find a job I love? Will I be adrift like this forever, searching for my passion? Am I unlovable? Destined to be alone for the rest of my life?

I want my focus to be on how perfectly Lena fits under my arm like a missing puzzle piece slid into place.

“And they would need to be protective of you. Because you spend so much time protecting everyone around you that you need someone watching your back.”

I’ve been adrift for months. Cast out to sea, hopelessly floating and searching for land. For a lighthouse to guide me home.

“No, Lena. You don’t need to be tamed.” My heart leaps in my throat as his fingers graze my ear to tuck a loose strand of hair behind it. “You’re perfect just the way you are. Wild, free, passionate, warm.”

Hell, maybe I am an addict, because from this moment on, I don’t know how I’ll survive without touching Gavin like this. I’ll be desperate for it.

Like after years of searching, after a lifetime of wondering where I belong, here it is. Her lips feel like home.

Fuck. I’m so gone for her. I could wreck every bit of the future I have planned to get lost with her forever.

And the sight of her wrenches all the oxygen from my lungs. I feel like I’m drowning. No air left in my body because my lungs are filled with Lena instead.

If I had one whole night with the woman I’ve been in love with for years, I don’t know that I could let her go.

Gavin. Architect. Foster child. Introvert. In love with Lena. Adamant she deserves better. They’re facts. They’re inescapable. She’s burrowed so far into my heart and soul that there’s no moving on. Ever.

In that moment, that tiny flash of a minute, my unsettling reality becomes clear: no one will ever compare to Gavin.

“All the way open for me. I’m not going to ask again.”

“That’s my girl.” He hums with satisfaction as his attention settles on the apex of my thighs. That’s my girl.

“You’re fucking gorgeous, baby. More perfect than I imagined.”

“That’s not enough for you, is it?” he asks with a smirk. “My girl needs more. Add another finger.”

“You mean to tell me, after days of torturing me. After years of flirting with me and antagonizing me, you want me to hurry?” A devious laugh bubbles from his throat. “Hell no. I’m taking my fucking time with you. If I only get this one night, I’m savoring every second.”

“Eyes on me, baby. I want to see ’em when you come apart for me.” I force them open, and he rewards me by pressing another kiss to the inside of my knee. “That’s my girl. Now touch your clit,” he orders, and I follow his directions. Pleasure spirals through my stomach, hot and heavy. “You’re doing perfect.”

“You’re perfect, Lena,” he rasps. “Fuck your fingers and call out my name.”

“Lena, baby. You’re beautiful, you know that?”

His strong arms support me as he stands in the middle of the hot tub, holding me and breathing me in like I’m precious to him. Like he’s never letting me go. Even if it’s only for tonight.

“So it’s only me, then?” He’s silent for a long time, hands rinsing my hair carefully. And I almost open my eyes to check on him, but then his voice rumbles over my skin. “It’s only you, Lena.” A rush of possessiveness bleeds through my heart. This is mine. Hair washing is mine. He’s mine.

“Oh, little menace,” he growls, tugging my head back by my wet strands. His lips land on the shell of my ear as he says, “I may be ten years older, but I can still make you come so hard you forget your own name. So you might not want to test me.”

When I meet his dark whiskey gaze, it’s focused on me like I’m the only thing that matters. Like he would burn down the world for me if I asked him to.

“My favorite color is the warm caramel of your eyes.”

“Sit on my face, little menace. I want you to ride my tongue until you come all over it.” My breath hitches as he grips my ass to hold me steady. “Grab the headboard, baby,” he commands, eyes pinned to mine as he pulls me toward his mouth.

I’m obsessed. I was right. One night was never going to be enough.

My girl is dripping for me, and I want every bit of it. She bucks and gasps as I dive my tongue into her tight heat, and thank fuck I’m already lying down, because the sight and taste and feel of her is enough to bring anyone to their knees.

“Well, we better make it worth waiting three years for,” she says, a coy smile on her lips. My thumb swipes over her tattoo. “Baby, I’d wait forever for you.”