Adam

The phone rings too many times when I call Cherry the next day. Avoiding me is as good as admitting she’s guilty. I want to know what the hell she was doing outside my fucking guesthouse last night and what she intended to do if she had gotten in.

Grant couldn’t be sure from the surveillance video if it was her or not, but the person was tall and thin like her, not built like a man at all. And now she’s not answering her phone because she knows I know. Cherry always answers on the first ring when I call unless she’s in trouble, and man is she in trouble.

I slam the phone down on the coffee table in front of me. I’m sure I shattered the screen, or dented the wood, or both.

“What did that phone ever do to you?” Ame asks, entering the living room with two cups of coffee in her hands.

“It’s not the phone, it’s the fucking person not answering on the other end.”

“I’m glad I’m not that person.”

“You’ll never be that person.”

I take the cup of coffee she hands me. God, I’m going to need a gallon of this to stay awake today. Between the sleep deprivation and the pain pills Ame’s been shoving down my throat all morning, I’m bound to have a narcoleptic moment at some point.

I swallow a large gulp of coffee and lurch forward, nearly spitting it out. I thought I’d tasted bad coffee before, but this is atrocious.

“Shit, too hot? Ame says, whacking me on the back while I sputter and cough.

I nod my head yes on the chance that she made this sludge, letting her believe I burned my mouth.

“I made it myself. I used your espresso machine,” she says proudly, but then she frowns.

“I’ll have to check the temperature setting next time.”

Yep, she made it. I’m glad I didn’t say it tastes like shit because it really does.

“That thing is tricky. It took Casey months to figure out, so don’t worry about it.” I set the mug on the table next to my phone and lean back to watch her drink her lousy coffee.

She looks so beautiful today; I love that she can look like a million bucks in a simple sweater and jeans with no makeup. No frills or sparkles, no stilettos or blingy jewelry, just clean, pure Amethyst.

She is literally everything Cherry isn’t. She comes from a good family, she’s motivated and she’s always trying to help others and better herself. I wish she could be a part of Harper’s life.

I’d like my daughter to have a good female role model. She’s at the age where she’s starting to mimic everyone around her, and I don’t want her picking up nasty habits from her mother and her friends. It’s only a matter of time before she fucks up so bad that I get full custody.

Amethyst’s face screws up when she takes a drink, “Oh my gosh, Adam, why didn’t you just say it tastes like crap? Yuck, I can’t drink this.” She sits the mug next to mine and shudders.

“Didn’t want to hurt your feelings in case you made it,” I say, focusing on her full lips as I speak. She has the most erotic mouth of any woman I’ve ever known. Her top lip is a perfect bow and the bottom is full but not overly plump. Even without lipstick or gloss, they’re the perfect shade of kissable, bitable, fuckable pink.

An awkward silence falls over the room as I search her face for any sign of the love she used to have for me.

“What?” she whispers. I shake my head back and forth.

“Nothing, sorry,” I say, but it’s the opposite of nothing and it’s all I can do to keep Vinnie, Cherry, and Harper a secret. Amethyst and I never kept secrets from one another; she made me want to be honest by being so open. We handled everything like a team, a team of two playing the game of life, the game we naively assumed would be fair but wasn’t.

Lady bursts into the room, ending the moment, and jumps onto the couch next to Ame. Her tongue lolls out of her mouth and her feet are wet.

“Lady, down,” I say in a stern voice. She hops off the couch and sits so close to Ame’s legs she’s practically leaning on her.

“She’s getting attached.”

“Like I said, girls stick together, don’t we, Lady wady sweet girl.” I roll my eyes as she baby-talks my enormous, supposedly intimidating guard dog. She’s got Lady’s head in her hands, scratching behind both ears. My dog is officially smitten. She’s in heaven when she’s with Amethyst, and I know exactly how she feels.

When she catches my disgusted look, she waves her hand at me.

“You’re jealous.”

“Oh yeah, I’m dying to have you talk baby-talk to me, totally jealous.”

Thing is I wouldn’t mind if she did. If her attention is focused on me, she can scratch my ears and call me baby waby all she wants.

“So what are we going to do today?” I ask.

She leans back against the couch and Lady plops her head in her lap. Ame absently continues to pet her with one hand.

“That’s up to you. We can’t start physical therapy for at least a week. Although you did manage to get yourself out of bed in a hurry last night, I still can’t imagine how you did that.”

“I can do anything, and I’ll give you a couple days before we start PT, not a week or weeks. I told you I’m going to be at our training camp in July, no if ands or buts.”

“Adam, rushing your recovery will only set you back further. You have to give your body time to …”

“I’ll be fine. You know me, when I want something I go for it, no holds barred.”

She stops stroking Lady’s head and I’m positive she read between the lines. I do want to be playing in a few short months, but more than that, I want her.

“Okay, I suppose a positive attitude is a good thing. I don’t want you to be disappointed if things don’t go the way you want though.”

The double entendres continue, she’s telling me not to get my hopes up and I’m telling her I’m not quitting until she’s mine again.

With a deep sigh, I adjust my leg on the stool in front of me.

“Are you in pain? Can I do anything for you?”

Oh, what a loaded question. Yes, damn it, you can come over here and kiss me, you can wheel me upstairs and let me undress you. You can help me into bed and slide your wet pussy down over my throbbing cock and ride me until next week.

Shit, I have to stop doing that. I’m torturing myself with these little mini movie fantasies I keep having every time she says something that can be interpreted as dirty or sexy. Now I have a raging boner under this blanket that I’m thankful she threw over me when she helped me onto the couch.

“Uh no, I’m good, just adjusting. How about we find something on Netflix to watch and I’ll have Casey make us some real coffee.” Her lip juts out in a pout and my cock twitches.

“I made real coffee.”

“Real bad coffee, babe.”

“Hush, where’s the remote?”

“There, on the shelf to the right of the TV”

I watch her unfold her leg from underneath her and walk to the TV. Watching her round ass in those tight jeans walk away from me does nothing for my cause. I’d kill for a quick shower right now. If I weren’t an invalid, I’d excuse myself and go upstairs to handle business real quick. As it is, I need to think of something unappealing to bring down the pole.

My mom always told us boys to think about the pictures of STDs we saw in health class to keep from being aroused. She’s actually pretty smart. If those pictures of inflamed, blistery genitals don’t make you limp, something’s wrong with you.

It works, well partially anyway, enough that I can concentrate on finding a movie and texting Casey to make us some coffee.

Then the Netflix logo flashes on the screen, and I want nothing more than to Netflix and chill with Amethyst the way it was intended to be done.

Naked,

In bed,

While fucking.

“You okay over there?” she asks.

“Yep, perfect. What do you want to binge watch?”

“Have you seen all the seasons of Breaking Bad?” she asks.

“Nope, only had time for season one.”

Her eyes light up and she bounces up and down clapping her hands. I’d watch a thousand episodes of Mary Poppins if she wanted. As long as she’s happy, I’m good.

“Oh, I’m so excited, I don’t know anybody who hasn’t seen every episode of every season. This is great.”

She points the remote at the screen and I decide I want her closer.

“Can you do me a favor before we start?”

“Of course, oh wait, I should ask what it is first, huh?”

“It’s medically related. I think you’re safe.”

She’s on her feet in a flash.

“Do you need to move?” she asks.

“Yes, my leg is getting stiff.” That’s not the only thing getting stiff.

She bends over and rearranges the pillows under my leg, and I get a beautiful view of her cleavage. Another fantasy starts to form in my head but I squash it right away, this time with the memory of a nasty photo of herpes that Mrs. Brunt from the sixth grade burned into my memory until the end of time. Ah, sweet relief.

When she’s got my leg at a specific angle, she stands to examine her work. She brushes her hands together as if she’s congratulating herself on a job well done.

“Good?”

“Yep, one more thing though.”

“Yeah, shoot.”

“Sit on this couch with me, will ya?”

She pauses to consider and when she turns around, Lady, bless her soul, has stolen her place and stretched out on the entire length of the couch she was sitting on.

“Well, I guess I’ll have to now.”

She sinks into the couch on the opposite end, purposely as far away as possible. I wonder what she thinks will happen if she gets too close? Is she afraid she won’t be able to control herself and she’ll jump my bones? Or is she still so pissed she doesn’t want to be close to me?

I think she wants to jump my bones, or at least that’s what I want to think, so I will.