Page 85 of Gin and Bear It

I can tell he’s close because his breathing picks up and he fucks me harder. The movement makes my clit rub against the couch, and my orgasm comes on so intensely that I see stars. He’s right behind me, gripping me so hard that I might have bruises soon.

But once we’re done, he smooths his hands over where he gripped me and puts me back on my feet. I wobble a little, and he guides me to sit on the couch. He disappears, probably disposing of the condom, and returns moments later. I gather just enough energy to make space for him on the couch.

He sits down next to me and pulls me against his chest so we’re cuddling. His body is hot from exertion, and he smells like clean sweat in a way that I weirdly like. We stay like that until our strength comes back.

“Can I have another bite of that cornbread thing?” he asks, breaking the silence.

“If I can have a bite of your scone.”

We eat our treats and go back to watching the show, still cuddling. Eventually we let CC out for the first time, and he and Pip circle each other. Neither of them hiss or growl, but they join us in the living room, settling on opposite sides of the couch.

This light, fluttery feeling is so addictive. When I daydreamed about falling in love in the past, it was cinematic. Fancy dates in places I’ve never been, vacations, things like that. Not sitting in my living room, doing my hair together and eating treats on a drizzly Saturday.

But falling in love is looking way more like the latter.

TWENTY-SIX

ASH

I wake up with a song stuck in my head, which isn’t that weird. But it’s a song that hasn’t been written yet, and that hasn’t happened in months. A bass line, fast and fun to play.

My eyes pop open. Some faint sunlight is peeking through under the curtains, but it’s fairly dark. I glance over at Jada, who’s still asleep, her full lips parted. Does she know I look at her throughout the night if I happen to get woken up by the cats? She’s beautiful all the time, but she’s always so animated that it’s hard to take in each individual part of her face.

She sniffs and shifts her weight, so I get out of bed before she catches me.

My alarm won’t go off for another forty-five minutes, so I slip out into the kitchen. I used to wake up with Pip standing inches from my face, but now I come out to find him and CC lounging around. They’ve taken to each other fast.

“Morning, guys,” I say. Pip squeaks and CC chirps, both of them stepping directly in my way.

I feed both of them before they start melting down, then make my coffee as I hum the bass line that’s appeared in my head. The rush of creativity wakes me up faster than the coffee. I quietly hum the bass line into the Notes app on my phone, then take my coffee into the living room.

My bass has been sitting on a stand in the corner, mostly untouched for the last few months. I’ve had a few moments where I’ve dicked around on it, but I haven’t sat down to work out a song since I moved in.

I’m far enough from the bedroom to not disturb Jada, but I set up with my headphones and laptop anyway. It allows me to record my rough drafts and save them, sending them to back up in a cloud folder. CC slinks into the room, jumping on the back of the couch before settling on my shoulder. Pip doesn’t understand that I don’t have space in my lap and squeaks.

“Sorry, Pip.” I pick him up with one hand and settle him next to me. “I need to work this out.”

I play around with the idea I had, but it doesn’t fully click yet. Once I get the bass line together, the rest tends to fall into place.

“There?” I murmur to myself after a somewhat successful attempt. CC meows. “Yeah? You think that’s good?”

He meows again and digs his claws into my shoulder.

“I don’t think it’s quite ready,” I say. He grumbles. “Wow, I didn’t know that you had so many opinions, sir.”

“Morning,” Jada says from the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, smiling. “What are you doing?”

“Working on a song.” I pull my headphones off. “It just came to me.”

“The cats have opinions?”

“Yep.” I scratch under CC’s chin. “I’m not sure if I agree.”

“Can I hear it?” she asks. “If it’s ready.”

I suddenly feel self-conscious. “It’s just the bass so far.”

“That’s okay.” She pauses. “I mean, if you want to share. I don’t want to mess with your process.”