Meeting a Hooker Behind a Wendys

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"You realize you've given my mother hope, and she's going to give you subtly hints all week about getting started on babies right?" Nissa poked her head out of the bathroom, toothbrush hanging from her mouth, once we'd both taken a shower -separately, we were in her parents home, she'd insisted, slapping my chest and shoving me out of the bathroom, closing the door in my face.

My eyes moved down her body, appreciatively, lingering on her naked legs. She was wearing one of my old hoodies, the thing was huge on her, but fuck me, if we weren't in her parents home, I'd rip it right off. When my eyes lifted to meet hers again, I rolled my eyes at the knowing smirk on her face, her eyebrows lifting suggestively, and I chuckled, quietly.

"We could always use a condom, and tell her we're not," I suggested, playfully, and she grinned around the toothbrush, before heading into the bathroom to rinse her mouth. Turning the light off when she emerged once again, she walked over to the bed and threw the covers back, crawling in.

"We're not doing the nasty in my parents home," she replied, taking my glasses off of my face, before grabbing my arm and wrapping it around her neck, her head resting on my shoulder.

"No one uses that word, you nerd," I told her, and she hummed.

"Why not? It's a good word," she mumbled, drawing circles with her finger on my stomach.

"Because we're adults who use actual words used to describe sexual encounters," I replied, using my thumb to flip the page on my book, the arm wrapped around her, pulling her closer and fingers finding their way into her soft hair.

"Right, because sexual encounters is so much better," she snorted. "It sounds like you're planning to meet a hooker behind a Wendys, who you're then going to beg to cuddle you because you have mommy issues."

"Sounds like every other Saturday night," I replied, shrugging, and she chuckled.

"You haven't heard the end," she mumbled, pressing a kiss to my ribcage, before scooting up further in the bed. Laying an arm across my chest, she rested her chin on it, and stared at me with a shit-eating-grin. "You killed her because she refused, carved her heart out, and wore it as a pendant."

My head snapped towards her, my book falling on my stomach. "Jesus woman, do I need to commit you?"

"Hey, it's your story, you lunatic, I'm just retelling it."

Threading my fingers through her hair, with a chuckle, I pressed my lips to her forehead, and tossed my book on the nightstand, next to my glasses, and got comfortable. "Do you want me to come with you tomorrow?"

She hesitated for a moment, before nodding. "Will you?"

Brushing the hair out of her face, I gripped her chin and pecked her lips. "Of course."

"Thank you." I nodded. "I can't believe it's almost been four years since she died."

"You know when I was six she told me that if I ever broke your heart she would haunt me for the rest of my life when she died, and steal all of my Halloween candy?" She laughed. "And then she ruffled my hair, and gave me a cupcake. I thought she was the most terrifying, cupcake lady I'd ever met. I never went a Halloween without hiding my candy."

"Bubba always loved you, after our trip to LA, I told her about losing my virginity to you, and the woman nearly about had a heart attack," she muttered. "She insisted it was fate."

I chuckled. "Yeah?"

She hummed her response, her fingers trailing my stomach, making the muscles contract under her touch. "Yeah. I thought they were all crazy. Every single one of them. But somehow Bubba made me doubt a little. She always had this way about her, it was almost like she knew things before you did, and you couldn't help but listen to her."

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⏰ Last updated: Nov 05, 2018 ⏰

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