College is the fresh start Mackenna Baker is hoping for, but her past follows her from the small town she left behind like a ghost. She does her best to ignore them and no matter how hard she tries, she can never seem to actually let them go. Shovin...
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I wake up the next morning in Wesley's arms, a rough calloused hand resting against my stomach underneath his gray Wrangler t-shirt, his black joggers hanging loose off my hips. My head hurts from the alcohol I consumed and my bladder feels full so I know I need to leave the comfort of the warm body and bed we're tangled in.
Wesley is softly snoring behind me, his head behind mine, but not tucked into my neck like I expected. He's been on the go since he came back into my life, whether I knew he was there or not, so I'm going to try and let him sleep as late as possible.
Cautious to not wake Wesley, I untangle my legs from between his and slide out from under his arm to carefully stretch out my body. "Shit," I groan after I sit up, the pressure in my head increasing significantly. I swing my legs over the side of the bed and shuffle through the ache throughout my body to make a quiet trip to the bathroom, doing a light freshening up while I'm in there before going back to join my sleeping boyfriend.
The pile of polaroids on the nightstand catch my attention when I reach the bed again.
I pick them up, there's easily more than a dozen of them, and slowly begin to flip through the picture Wesley took of me while we were being intimate.
The way he captured my naked body on the bed in the dim light of our hotel room, the provocative positions, me mid moans, touching my-
"Admiring yourself like I do?" Wesley's gravely voice breaks the spell.
"Oh!" I gasp, looking up from the polaroids to find him looking at me. "I uh, um. I didn't mean to wake you up," I evade his question.
"C'mere," he says softly, pushing himself a little bit against the pillows. "Bring those." He nods at the stack of photos in my hand.
"Just, go back to sleep. It's-"
"Mackenna, get back in this bed and share those pictures," he tells me with more authority.
"Okay," I concede, knowing there's no way I'll win. My feet carry me the couple steps closer and then I climb back into bed, being careful not to ruin the pictures.
"First off, how are you feeling?" he asks as I settle beside him, keeping a bit of room between us from the nerves.
"I'm okay. Tired and sore."
"All of you?"
"Yeah, a little bit. Head from the alcohol, body from well..." I break off, gently waving the pictures through the air in front of us.
"Can I see them?"
"Uh, sure," I nod. I feel like I'm moving like molasses when I twist my arm to hand over the pictures that he takes from me.
"I know last night was different, in more ways than one. We tried some new things and I'm proud of you for your confidence in doing them with me. That's part of why I took the photos."
