Ella Maise

And isn’t that how it goes? You get over the guy way before you get over the memories.

I wondered if I would get arrested if I just hopped over the wall, ran to his side while his eyes were closed, and pulled down his shorts. They wouldn’t count a case of extreme curiosity as a crime, right? Hell, maybe what he was packing in there would be worth the time I’d spend behind bars, daydreaming about his cock.

I already apologized for being curious.”

“Oh, so that’s what we’re calling invading privacy these days, is that it?”

It was fun. The little human was fun, cute, and smart—everything his father wasn’t, and I was maybe a tad bit in love with him. The son. Not the father.

Definitely not the father.

Because who’d want to fall in love with a bastard who had a voice that could give you orgasms, right?

Right.

“Fuck you, okay?” His gaze hardened, and I leaned back. “You’re hot and all, I’ll give you that much, but I don’t like you enough to stalk you. Now, if you were Henry Cavill…that would change things.”

“Good to know you gave up on stalking me and moved on to Henry.”

Isn’t it the worst thing when your ex gets in touch with you when you’re starting to move on with your life? Isn’t it so inconsiderate of them?

“You don’t like me naked from this close? Every one of those photos in your phone was of me naked and zoomed in.”

“That was then. Now”—she gave me another look, and I caught her swallow—“not that attractive, I guess.”

“Ah, right. Not after I sent you to prison, right?”

She squinted at me. “Are you making fun of me?”

“Of course not. I wouldn’t dare.”

Satisfied, she nodded. “Good. Be scared of me. That’s smart of you.”

Are you ready to cry all the tears, Adam Connor?

Catch us if you can!

PS. Just because we felt sorry for you, you can use the gun. It’s loaded.

“You really have a thing for four-inch dicks, don’t you?”

She raised an eyebrow. “I prefer bigger ones, though I’m sure yours looks cute on you.”

Having successfully breathed for at least a few minutes without having a sudden heart attack, I looked over my shoulder to see if Olive and Jason were still up.

They were. And they were dancing.

With no music.

I still don’t know what about that scene struck my heart so strongly, but I remember the raw pain I felt in my chest.

Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t jealousy. I wanted nothing but happiness for them, but maybe it was the first time I’d wanted someone to hold me that closely, to look at me just like Jason was looking at Olive. His fingers were playing with her hair as Olive’s head rested against his chest. Eyes closed.

There was no music.

Nothing but the two of them in the world.

So, for a brief moment, I wanted the same for myself.

The feeling of security that someone was there to hold you up when gravity was too much to handle on your own, that you had someone you could trust enough to let go.

Just for a moment, I wanted someone to hold me up and tell me everything would be okay, that my fears were uncalled for.