Yes Please || c.g. {complete}

Make-Up Sex

*A/N: IDK when or how, but this chapter got knocked out of order and showed up a few chapters later. 🙈 Sorry for any confusion! It's back where it belongs now. 👌🏻*

18

.Layla.

The next couple weeks with Carl felt like a honeymoon. Both of us were so blissfully happy; a great weight we hadn't realized we'd been carrying had been lifted. As usual, we couldn't keep our hands and mouths off of each other, but there was a new thrill in knowing that when we had sex, it wasn't just the lustful fucking of two horny teenagers...we were making love. And contrary to popular belief, "making love" is every bit as hot and steamy as "fucking"- at least with Carl Gallagher. After nearly a month together, we had christened practically every surface in my apartment, our lustful intensity still every bit as strong as the first time we'd explored each other. The simple act of whispering "I love you" during and after these same situations made them infinitely more erotic.

This new level of intimacy unfortunately also meant that we fought about trivial shit like a legitimate couple.

"What are we doing for the Fourth of July?" I asked him as we sat on the couch one afternoon.

Carl shrugged, still watching tv and seemingly uninterested.

"What do you usually do?" I asked him.

"I don't know," he shrugged again. "Blow shit up?"

I rolled my eyes with a sigh. "Listen, my friends Stella and Sophia have an apartment on the top floor of their building in Lincoln Park-"

"Whoa," he chuckled. "You're gonna bring your hoodrat boyfriend up to Lincoln Park? I'll feel like Pretty Woman."

I scoffed at him as I continued. "We can go up on the roof to watch the fireworks. You can literally look around at 360 degrees of fireworks all over the city."

He made a face that told me he might be considering it.

"Carl," I pressed. "It is so awesome. Trust me. What do you think?"

He looked at me and sighed. "Maybe."

I crossed my arms and began to pout. "You never come do stuff with me on the Northside."

"Like what?" he asked incredulously.

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, I don't know; meet my parents, hang out with my friends, see my neighborhood..."

"The idea of meeting your parents scares the shit out of me, your friends resent me for 'hogging all your time,' and I like this neighborhood just fine," he listed off defiantly, turning his attention back to the tv.

I stared at him with narrowed eyes, unsure of what the hell to even say in response. He didn't look back over at me, and after a minute I stormed off to my room and slammed the door.

.Carl.

Fucking hell. I sighed and threw my head back to rest on the couch cushion. We were having another one of our stupid arguments that I didn't know how the fuck to handle. The advice I'd gotten from my brothers the first time this happened was that she was right, even when she was wrong. I would end up apologizing, and then she would too, and then we would have crazy awesome makeup sex. That part was pretty dope; I just wished we could skip the other bullshit.

I took a deep breath and stood up. I walked over to the bedroom door and opened it slowly. She was lying on the bed with her back to me. I could hear her crying softly, and I felt like such an asshole.

I walked up to the bed and lay down so that I was spooning her from behind. "Baby, I'm sorry."

She refused to soften to my touch and wouldn't answer me. I must have really screwed up. I just wish I understood what in particular had made her so mad.