Afterglow ❃ l.m.j

• chapter thirty nine •

"I, um... I think we should talk." Normani began one night as she drove, one hand on the steering wheel, the other fiddling with her top button. Her shirt was currently unbuttoned, revealing her chest. It took everything in me not to look at it. We'd just had sex before we left and were on our way to work. It was New Year's Eve.

"Okay," I said, turning my head away from the window. She seemed a bit nervous, tapping on every surface she could get her hands on. I looked from her hands to her face. "What's up?"

"Um... Okay, can I just talk, and you listen?"

Concern leaked into every part of my face. Normani being nervous to be honest was not something I was accustomed to. I nodded, giving her my full attention, my body now turned towards her as well.

I noticed that when she was nervous, she checked her mirrors more often. She was doing it now.

"I'm gonna be honest — I don't know what I'm doing here with you."

I waited for a second, hoping for an explanation or some kind of punch line. Because the way she worded it was hurtful and there was no conclusion I could jump to to fix it. I could tell that she noticed it. She reached out to squeeze my hand.

"God, Lauren, not like that. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, that sounded wrong." She rushed out. The anxiety in my chest quelled just barely. I stayed quiet. The drive from my house to the club was long which meant that we had a lot of time to talk.

"I don't know how to do this thing between us because... Okay, I can do just sex, right? There's no feelings for me to have to figure out, I don't need to guess what someone wants or what they're thinking. But... I don't think that's what this is anymore. Not for me."

I remained quiet.

"I mean, is that what this is for you? Just sex? Because I don't know if I'm reading too deep into this, but I feel like it's not." She glanced at me then back at the road.

My voice was quiet. With the windows up, all that could be heard within the car were our voices. "No."

Relief flashed across her face for a split second. "Me either. Or at least, I don't feel like it. I know that I'm thinking about you even when we're not fucking, or together, for that matter. I know that I really like when we're together even if it's just us doing something simple. Like that night we went to the paint and pour, or even those nights I drove you home. I like doing the little stuff with you. And, you know, I like to think that maybe I've been interested in people before. I tried to feel the things that other people said they felt. Like the butterflies and the smiling at their names and doing anything to make them happy, the sacrifices. But it's hard. I've just always felt like love comes so slow for me."

"Okay..." I eased on.

"And then I meet you, and I don't know. I don't know if I have a crush, I don't know if I like you. I just know that I want to be around you damn near all the time, and I want to kiss you, and fuck you. I'm up wondering what you're doing, wondering if you're thinking about me too or if I'm just being weird. And I feel stuck, or broken."

I furrowed my eyebrows, looking over at her. My voice was gentle. "Have you never had girlfriends before?"

She flipped on the blinker, clearing her throat. "No, I have. Several, actually. You aren't my first anything. But somehow being with you just feels so different. With them, I feel like I forced myself to love them because it's what I thought they wanted from me. With you, I don't feel like that."