Whispering With You

31. She isn't yours to touch.

Kelly

STANDING BEFORE MY DINING ROOM TABLE, I hold my phone up to snap a quick picture and text it to Sutton.

ME: We can finish this tonight.

Before me is the almost finished product of our second puzzle. Only two pieces are missing. They sit just outside the frame on the table, waiting to be put into place.

SUTTON: Presumptuous. Who says I'm going to your place tonight?

I chuckle as I read my girlfriend's text. Of course she's coming here after Roxy's tonight. It's the weekend. This is how we spend our weekends now.

On Fridays we endure a few hours with our family and friends at the bar where we pretty much ignore each other, covertly texting the whole time. Then she comes here, where we hibernate the whole weekend or sneak away to nearby towns for secret dates.

ME: I'm saving the last piece for you, but if you're gonna be a brat, I'll just finish it off right now.

Sutton: Don't you dare!

We've settled into a bit of a routine over the past few weeks. After spending the weekend together, Sutton will go to her place on Monday to catch up on laundry. We'll spend random nights apart depending on our schedules. But I've been known to text her after a late night at work that I'm at her door. She'll zombie-walk to the door to let me in, and I'll follow her back into her dark room and crawl in beside her in bed, tucking her sleepy, warm body against me.

If I've learned one thing during my short time with this girl, it's that I can't stand sleeping without her.

I just like being with her, period.

ME: Show me what you're wearing.

What I don't like is other guys eyeing up my girl. Especially since I can't officially claim her.

I can almost feel her eye roll from here and expect resistance to my request. Instead, she sends a photo instantly.

I stare at the picture of her, blinking rapidly. I was expecting some variation of an outfit she deems appropriate but I find fault in. What I wasn't expecting was my half-naked girlfriend.

In the picture Sutton wears only a lacy bra and a pair of wide leg jeans. It takes me longer than I'd like to admit to realize her head is cropped out, leaving a faceless photo.

ME: Shit, baby girl. You forgot your shirt. And your face.

SUTTON: But how long were you distracted by my tits before you noticed I was headless?

ME: Don't worry about it.

ME: I'll be saving that pic btw. You look fucking hot. But show me what you're wearing tonight. For real.

She sends another picture. This time she's wearing a shirt, one that barely covers the cleavage I was just gawking at in the first photograph.

ME: Next.

SUTTON: You've lost all your veto rights.