"Grace." He demands.
"I can't," I say shakily, leaning my head back and looking up at the shy stars.
"Why not?"
"It's not that I don't want to," I start, looking back at him to catch him already looking at me. "I can't afford it, Sam."
"Then me and...
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As Grace is next to me in bed, scrolling on her phone, her back facing me, I feel like we never made up last night. And I guess, we didn't. The thing is, though, we don't usually make up. We let things be and when we were ready, address them.
I'm not so sure that dynamic is going to work for long, though.
I turn to spoon her curled-up body, bringing my hand to rest on her lower stomach. She doesn't say anything, instead, she puts her small hand over mine, continuing whatever she was doing.
Pressing a kiss against her bare shoulder, I let my hand move up her stomach. I grab her phone and place it on her nightstand, littering soft kisses up to the back of her neck.
"What are you doing?" She whispers.
"Apologizing."
Turning her around and pulling her into my lap, I bring my hand into her hair to deepen our kiss. Our tongues fight for dominance until I finally let her win. She smiles against my lips, pressing her palms against my chest.
I start absentmindedly grinding into her, trailing my fingers up and down her spine. She whimpers against my lips, shaking her head. I pause for a moment and gaze up at her.
"What's wrong?" I frown.
She shakes her head, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "That... It..."
Letting out a breath, she finally admits, "It felt... weird."
"Do you want me to stop? Or do something else, maybe?"
She shook her head, her eyes leaving mine. "No, no. What I meant by it felt weird is... it felt good weird."
She admits this shyly, chewing on her lip as she shuffles around in my lap to get comfortable. Her words bring a smile to my lips and I flip us over.
It's comforting to know that, even though I have no idea what I'm doing-- I can still make her feel good. Knowing that she's comfortable and enjoying it, makes me enjoy it.
Grace giggles and wraps her arms around my neck. Her body is still vibrating with soft laughter when she pulls me down to her lips.
Her kiss is soft and longing for like I'm not really here. Like she wants-- needs more. So I give her more. I press my body into hers, letting my hands wander over a body I remember fantasizing about like it was mine to fantasize about.
But it wasn't just her body. It was her soul. It was her entire being, really. It was and is the messy hair, sparkling smile, unpredictable giggling here and there. It's the way she always knows what to say even when she doesn't. The way she tries to fight you because she doesn't want to hurt you.
It's her heart, her hurt. It's her.
I smile against her lips, my hands lightly brushing one of her boobs.
