Stick to the Plan

Ch.9: Forgiveness🚤

A/N: One of my favorite chapters yet, enjoy!

This. Was so. AWKWARD!

"Emery?" Morgan asked more than stated, studying me with those curious eyes. And then those eyes panned over to Jennifer.

She finally got what was going on here.

"Oh I'm so sorry! I don't mean to intrude. Let me get out of here-"

"Wait, Jennifer. There's nothing to intrude upon. Where did you want to eat at?" I asked, turning to her. Her face was bright red, but not in the way I wanted it.

"Emery, I came to apologize," Morgan said. Her eyes kept shooting back to Jennifer, and every time they met mine again, I could sense jealousy on her face.

"Why couldn't you just text me?" I hissed.

"Because you haven't been answering my texts. I had to take matters into my own hands," she replied, composed.

"Well this is a bad time. I'm about to go to lunch just now. Jennifer?" I asked, but when I turned to face her again she was gone.

Fuck.

"Okay fine. What do you have to say for yourself?" I demanded as college kids milled around us.

"Just that I'm really really sorry and I hope you accept my token of gratitude," Morgan said, holding the flowers out to me. I caught a scent of their sweet aroma.

And how could I say no to that face?

I took the flowers almost angrily.

"Okay. What're you gonna do to make up for it?"

She took my hand, and the next thing I know I'm on a fucking boat.

🏖🏖🏖

She said it was her friend's boat that he let her borrow sometimes. I said she has a lot of friends.

The boat was a beautiful mahogany runabout with two seats in the front and a bench in the back. Watching Morgan direct the boat through the water was mesmerizing. Her strong arms gleamed in the sunlight, her black Ray Bands shades covering her eyes full of depth. She looked at me and smiled before handing me a wine cooler from in between us. It was dripping with the melted ice of the blue container.

I knew that this would be our thing.

"Told you I'd make it up to you!" Morgan said over the motor.

And then she stopped the boat.

I was reminded of Ripley, when Tom took Dickie out on a small boat in San Remo. Granted, I knew Morgan wasn't going to bludgeon me with a wooden oar out of jealousy and unrequited longing, but it still freaked me out a bit.

Until she told me why she stopped.

"I couldn't speak over that fucking motor," she said.

"And what was so important that you wanted to tell me?" I asked, sipping on my beverage.

"Well, give you, more like," Morgan said, shuffling through a book bag she'd brought.

"Wow, I've never had sex on a boat before," I teased. Morgan got red despite her sun burns.

"No, it's not like that. Here," she produced a paperback copy of a very familiar book. Even the cover was the same as my childhood. "I know you like to write kid's books, so I picked you up one of my favorites from Barnes and Noble for inspiration." She brandished the book before handing it to me. I took it, admiring the smoothness of the cover underneath my fingertips.