Page 150 of Sour Notes

A wave of sadness washes over me.

What happens after that? We go back to being roommates? Friends?

That’s all we’re technically supposed to be, right? Even though this feels like something else.

Last night felt… special. Ugh. That sounds cheesy. Not to mention ridiculous.

God, I need to get over myself. I’m making it sound like we made love or some shit. As if that’s even a thing.

He fucked me with a freakin’ dildo.

Sure, it was shaped like his dick.

Sure, neither of us could look away as I came.

But it was still assisted masturbation. Not some huge love declaration.

Do I want it to be?

I don’t know what I want anymore. I just wish I could read his mind. Did he think last night was special?

Who am I kidding?

He’s a cop. Handcuffs are probably just his MO.

“Hey, babe. Don’t forget, we need to head to the beach for Nick’s stupid games this afternoon.”

Swayze sprawls beside me, pulling me off the crazy train I was riding. It’s probably for the best. I need to not get in my head, especially when we have another full afternoon of being love’s young dream around our families—not to mention, Nick’s and Mario’s antics to deal with.

“Ohhh I remember. I wonder what his idea of beach games entails.”

“Knowing your brother, they’ll be ridiculous, given what he’s had us doing out here.” Swayze laughs before his gaze drops down to the faint bruise on my wrist. He tugs my hand onto his thigh, gently stroking the purple mark. “Fuck, I did this?”

His brow furrows in concern and I damn near melt into a puddle when he lifts it to his mouth and presses his lips to it in a soft kiss.

“S’okay Wolfie. I was a more than willing captive.” A satisfied rumble escapes from his chest when I curl up against him, resting the hand he just kissed over his heart. He tightens his arm around me, dropping a kiss on the top of my head.

“You’re so good at this, you know. How come you’ve never had a girlfriend?” I turn in his arms, leaning on his chest so I can meet his eyes. I don’t get how a guy can be this good at playing boyfriend without any real experience.

He silently studies my eyes for a minute, seemingly calculating a response. When he lifts a hand to run it through my hair, massaging the back of my head, I almost purr, my eyes falling closed, the question all but forgotten.

“There was never a right time, with the right girl,” he rumbles out quietly.

I reluctantly pull back to face him properly. “But there’s been so many girls. One of them could’ve been right.”

“Not for me, Angel.” He grins down at me ruefully.

“How’d you know?”

I don’t know why I’m pushing the topic. The idea of him with anyone else makes me want to vomit, but part of me also wants to know how an eternal bachelor can do this. I was with Pete for most of my dating life and he wasn’t even a quarter of the boyfriend Swayze’s pretending to be. This man should’ve been locked down years ago.

“I just do. The girl I commit to will be the one who knocks me on my ass the first second I meet her. The one who flips my world upside down, but I won’t care because it’s only ever right when I’m with her.”

Jealousy rears its head like a little green monster and I collapse back onto his chest, not wanting him to see my face fall. Part of me wishes that was me, even though it’s not entirely rational, given I also don’t want to commit to anyone again.

“She sounds like she’ll be pretty special,” is all I manage to say, trailing a finger up and down the veins of his forearm to solidly ignore the fact that I stupidly want to cry.

“She is,” he whispers, trailing his fingers through my hair again.