Endless Bonds {BTY #2} ✔

EB 13: Where He Deals With It

Endless Bonds Copyright © 2016-2017 xXMopelXx All Rights Reserved.

Chapter Posted - January 15, 2017

Lorddddd, two updates in two days? That's what I'm talking about LOL. Sorry if there's any minor mistakes! I was eager to get this up for y'all!

Happy Reading! xo

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T R E N T

:: Chapter (13) :: Where he deals with it

I pick up Cher around quarter to noon.

She's already waiting downstairs for me with all that bronze hair open and her signature black beret missing.

I would have been disappointed, if it weren't for the fact that she's wearing a pair of beat up converses, a tight black shirt, and shorter than sin shorts.

She resembles the old Cher she left behind. I like it.

Cher crosses the short distance and smiles as she slips into the passenger side of my SUV. "Hi."

I smirk back. "Hey."

Her eyes roam the length of my body. I do the same to hers. Fixing on the cleavage revealed by her neckline. She notices and blushes. I don't say a word.

I drive out of the parking lot. None of us mention yesterday morning, when we both saw each other in the hallway. I'm tempted to ask who she screwed, but I don't. It's none of my business.

Even though it took me a while to get the image of her long bare legs, mussed hair and swollen mouth out of my head. Which is messed up because Cheryl and I are friends. Or, at least, we're trying to cross the bridge once more after an absence of nearly two years.

"Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise," I tell her.

"I'm not big on surprises," she laughs.

"Deal with it, sweetheart."

I hand her over my phone so she can pick whatever music she likes. She settles on rap music politely – probably for my sake – and plugs in the aux cord.

Cher crosses her legs and stares ahead into the windshield.

The silence in the car is not bad. I'm comfortable with it, but I don't know if she is. I don't know if she wants me to talk - to hold a conversation. It was never like that between us. We used to be okay with mutual silence. Is it still the same?

I don't think so. She seems a little tense. There's a mask she's slipped into in the last years, as if cautiously holding herself behind that façade. I don't like it.

I'm hoping we can fall back in our old patterns.

The song changes. The atmosphere in the car, however, doesn't. My knuckles tighten on the wheel until they're almost white. Cher crosses her legs even tighter.

I can't stop looking away from her slightly tanned skin. I need to soon. Or else I'm going to cause an accident.

So I think of other things. I think of how Cher and I used to sometimes lie down on our backs and gaze at the stars in the old abandoned field not to far away from my house. Some nights we'd talk. Other nights the silence floating between us would do the talking.