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When George Shaw tries to find a plan for the last fifteen days to spend with his best friend, who he's had a crush on for as long as he can remember, all he needs is a map to plot out a road trip and his daily h...
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THERE WERE DAYS THAT I WOKE UP CRAVING FOR A CIG.
This morning, I'd woken up craving as the result of not smoking for two entire days. It could be called a success—but it also made me an addict. It started off with taking one or two cigs from people. I never thought I'd be craving—like I thought if I stopped, I would never be looking for it anymore. I only smoked like five cigs a day.
The subtle tilt of Abby's face shoved her hair into my nostrils and I almost choked. This was such a move in the middle of my thoughts as if she was awake and she could read my mind. Once I managed to escape her hair attack, I looked at my side to see her sleeping cozily on my chest. She must have not changed her position all night, which was impressive. Her left hand fisted my t-shirt like the rest of her body was resting on my right arm—which I could not feel at all.
When I lowered my head a little, we came face to face so that I could take her in easier. It ached so hard that she was too close yet so untouchable. Her soft exhales fanned my face, pulling me into a sudden frenzy. This proximity filled me with an urge to just lean over and cover her lips. Would she feel it? The blood raced to certain places of my body and left me to have to fight against this blind desire in its wake. This neediness took no prisoners, not really helping me to keep my calm. It was so risky to be filled with these untamed thoughts when she stood so close to me, not to mention her hand resting dangerously close to the left side of my chest—where my heart lay.
Her mouth suddenly opened and she let out a sigh. I waited for her eyes to part but it never happened. Her sigh left a trace of bourbon in its wake. It wasn't the most pleasing odor in the world. In fact, I tried to use it to lessen my attractiveness toward her for the time being but it didn't really work. My mind found a crook of my logic: this was the most intimate thing I could ever receive from her: her morning breath. Fuck.
When I hoped to chill, it only increased my rapid heartbeat and made me feel even hornier. My body reacted the same way it did to a craving for a quick smoke—did it make me addicted? When I lowered my gaze, I encountered the expected view and there was no way I could really hide it. Gosh, this was already so embarrassing but I couldn't find the energy to abandon this comfortable position that I would probably never be able to live again and go to the shower.
The sudden chime of a phone interrupted me. I instantly confirmed that it came from Abby's phone and I leaned back to take a breath. The previous thoughts moved to a freshly born curiosity. Since Abby hadn't mentioned Roy for a while, and I obviously didn't want to talk about it, I didn't quite know if they were still texting. I carefully lifted up my body toward her side and peeked at the screen on her bedside table.
The message burned a spot in my heart: Morning, beauty xx
My hand acted swifter than my brain as I grabbed the phone and rolled back to my side. This harsh movement luckily did nothing to Abby, only causing her to release my t-shirt and roll on her right with a huff. Exhaling a sigh, I typed her password. Pressing on Messages, I opened her messages with Roy.
