Truly

by Carmel Rhodes

“Why are you here?” I demand, getting straight to the point. I’m too tired after a long emotional day, in what seems to be a never-ending stream of long and emotional days, to waste time with small talk. “I contemplated slashing your tires,” he says nonchalantly, lifting his foot to rest on the edge of the swing. “But your dad’s car was still here, so I had to wait.”

My body immediately responds to his harsh words and firm grip, as if it’s conditioned to respond to his violence.

“Just once, I’d like you to respect a boundary I set. Just one.” “Just once, I’d like you to smile at me like you smile at him and tell me good morning, Daddy.” He grins, rubbing a finger across the scar on his chin.

He never fights fair. It’s only ever with brute strength or overwhelming affection.

“Truly—” He opens his mouth, then closes it, choosing his next words carefully. “I have always noticed you. You just noticed him first.”

“It might be a different medium, but I think you have some stories to tell too, and it would be a

shame if Truly Jr. missed out on them.” I blink up at him with tear filled eyes. “Truly Jr.?” He shrugs. “Whatever we decide to call her.”

It’s a part of why he’s so good at manipulation, but it’s also kind of sexy.

It sucks, sure, but I’m with psycho.

When he kisses me, I feel seen. I feel cherished, like I am the center of his universe. Which is insane. He is Noah freaking Tedesco. Mr. Perfect. People treat him as if he hung the moon, yet here he is, spending his summer chasing me around the country, filling me with his all-consuming kisses, marking me as his.

“To think that just a few weeks ago you hated Noah with a passion, and now you’re wearing his hoodie and his hickeys.”

“You’re an asshole.” “And you’re mine.”

So, this is me, from this day forward, choosing faith over fear. God got me.

Momma always said God got her, but it hasn’t felt like God had me in so long, it’s hard to have faith.

“You’re mine, you’re always going to be mine. It doesn’t matter what anyone thinks about it.”

“The fact that we’re dating at all means you’re special to me. Of course, I’m possessive over you. Have you ever known me to date anyone?”

Oh. The last time his parents called Noah fucked me so hard, I could barely walk straight the next day. My thighs clench in response, then I mentally kick myself. This isn’t about me.

That’s the moment I knew that Jamal Parker wasn’t the type of man who’d try to change me. He’s the type of man who’d change my last name.

“No crying. The only thing I want to ruin this makeup is you gagging on my cock.”

“It means I’ll fuck you until you can’t walk straight, then send him a picture of my cum dripping from your cunt.”

“So I can put my dick here.” He squeezes my butt. “And my baby here.” His other hand presses against my flat stomach.

“You’re my girl, Truly. The only person who could ever change that is you.”

In a world where everyone wanted to own a piece of the golden boy, I got to gorge myself on the whole thing.

“Hoodies are for girlfriends. You can have it back when I can have you back.”