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My favorite books, love songs, movies, the ones that resonated with me, have kept me grieving long after I turned the last page, the notes faded out, or the credits rolled.
Even with the cold whip of the wind on my face, I can still feel the warmth of the sun on my skin. I can still sense his frame blocking out the light, feel the prickling of surety the first time he touched me, and the goosebumps that touch left in his wake. I can still feel them all, my boys of summer.
In a reread, this hurts
There is no question in my mind that for me, it was love.
The truth that I belong to another. That whatever remains of my heart, body, and soul belongs to a man who wants nothing to do with me.
The only love I’ve ever known or craved is the kind that keeps me sick, sick with longing, sick with lust, sick with need, sick with grief. The distorted kind that leaves scars and jaded hearts.
It’s the knowledge that the one and only man my heart’s ever been faithful to, I will never have.
“Sean, no relation to the man upstairs, and this is my second time working for Horner Tech. I left briefly. And I would very much enjoy some afternoon delight in the janitor’s closet.”
SEANNNNN
my blue eyes collide with slicing silver-grey . . . but it’s not just the eyes that bind me where I stand—it’s the predatory look in them.
DOM
“You’re fucking adorable. And beautiful. But let’s be honest, a little too young and good of a girl to be hanging out with us assholes.”
“I hear they share women.”
Can I join?
He smirks, and I could die. It’s utterly perfect coming out of his full lips.
“It’s the only measure of time that matters. Time itself is just an invisible line, a measure people made up, right? You know that. And while it’s good for reference, it’s also a major stress trigger, because you’re letting it control you.” I can’t even deny it. The idea of dinner with Roman is ruining my time with Sean. “Okay, sorry.” “Don’t be sorry. Just don’t give it power. Now is now, later will eventually be now. Don’t be a slave to the insanity of keeping time and keeping up. Now is the only thing you have control over, and even so, it’s an illusion.”
“No fucking way, I’m taking my time. You took yours.”
THIS
“Sean, I’m not innocent.” He threads our fingers together. “No, but you’re more. A lot more.”
SO MUCH MORE
“Fuck it.”
We love a fuck it kind of man
“We didn’t have a lot of money, so we made do.
Knowing what I know…I’m so sad
“Careful, violence makes me hard.” He tilts his head and his eyes flare, the sight of them like the glint of a knife. “I’m a psychiatrist’s wet dream.”
Don’t threaten me with a good time 😏
I expect passion and butterflies, and one or two fairy tale moments. When we fight, I want it to hurt. When we fuck, I want to feel it with every fiber of my being. When a man confesses his love to me, I expect him to mean it. I don’t want to question the words’ authenticity. I want to be claimed and owned and ruled and possessed by love.
My greatest hope is to be in all-consuming love. My biggest fear is to be in all-consuming love.
“Okay, I think I’m ready.” He exhales as if he’s about to give a grand speech. “I’m sorry I told Sean I caught you staring at my dick.” I can’t help it. I burst out laughing. He gives me his first genuine smile and it knocks me for a loop.
We stare each other down for several seconds. “I know, but please don’t do that to me again,” he asks softly. “Do what?” “Cut me.”
He turns back and I can only conclude he sees the warring hurt and confusion in my eyes, my expression. “You catchin’ feelings for me, Pup?”
AHHHHHH
Dominic is touching me.
Can he touch me too? Serious question
And that’s when I feel the snap on both our parts. He lifts, just as I bend, and our lips meet.
Yes yes yes
“I’m a bastard for saying it, but I see your mind is blown.”
“Eggs—runny, coffee—black, beer—cold, music—loud, cars,” he floors the gas. “Fast,” I say through a laugh. “Woman,” he turns and rolls his mirror-colored gaze over me.
SOBBBBBBBB
I decide to bite Sean’s testicles the minute I’m able to.
Laughing so hard
“I know what I’m holding, I know her worth,” he whispers, his words so intimate that for a second I think I’ve imagined them.
Okay but Dom stop being FUCKING PERFECT
And then slowly, so slowly, his lips tilt upwards fully, knocking me senseless. It’s my first genuine smile from him, and I snap away, knowing it’s a mental picture I will never forget.
STOPPPPPPP
“You have a whole romance section.” I giggle and pull a book from the shelf. When I open it, a receipt falls to the floor. Inspecting it, I see he’s just bought ten books and spent a few hundred dollars opting for some pricy hardcovers over paperbacks. “You just bought these?”
“You bought these for me?” Silence.
“My rainy days are yours, Dominic. If you want them.” “It rains a lot here,” he says after a few long beats. “Fine with me. But my sunny days belong to Sean.” “Making rules defeats—” “No, I’m not making rules. It’s a request,” I interrupt, my eyes search his. “I just need some clarity for myself, but I want rainy days, very much.” He bites his lower lip and I click another mental picture. “So, you’re in?” My eyes drop and tension fills the air. “I don’t know.” “It’s that serious,” he warns. “Don’t downplay this.” “I’m not.” “Good.”
THIS
But in a lot of aspects, they’re night and day; dark cloud and golden sun.
old nineties flicks, of cheddar popcorn and lavender-scented blankets,
Nope nope nope
“I have no pity for you,” he clips, “the woman I knew would fight this shit with her eyes closed. You are choosing this.”
Knowing what i know. This hurts
“I will drive this car someday, Dominic. Bet on it.”
He tracks the tear sliding down my cheek. “I have to let you go for now,” he grimaces, and for the first time since that night we spent alone, his emotion shines through. “But I don’t fucking want to.”
“You’re the only woman who can keep this bird circling back. Know that, Cecelia.”
