Yes Please || c.g. {complete}

Thankful

61

.Layla.

As the next few weeks passed, my bump got a little bigger, and I was really not fooling anyone anymore in my flowy tops and dresses. Plus, it was really fucking cold out, and I was not trying to wear thin maxi dresses in late November in Chicago. I had given in to the need to buy some maternity clothes, and on the day before Thanksgiving I was at a cute place on the Southside called Belle Up with Debbie.

"Let me see!" she called from outside the fitting room curtain.

"Just a sec!" I turned in front of the mirror and looked at the way the jeans with the elastic waistband fit. I sighed and opened the curtain so Debbie could see.

"Oh my god those are cute and they look amazingly comfortable!" she smiled.

I shrugged. "Yeah, they're definitely comfortable. Just...very different."

She ushered me back into the little stall to try on the other things we'd picked out.

When I was back behind the curtain, I heard my phone vibrate in my purse.

I pulled it out and saw a text from Carl.

i love you much
(most beautiful darling)
more than anyone on the earth &
i like you better
than everything in the sky

It was an e.e. cummings poem; he'd been sending them to me every now and then since that one night, and he even knew to style it in all lowercase. I put my hand over my mouth as I felt myself tearing up. Damn pregnancy hormones.

"What's up in there?" Debbie called.

I sniffed. "Sorry; just looking at something. Be right out!"

I sent him one back from Faudet.

How do I feel about you?
I'm glad you asked...
Now, put your hands between my legs
and find out for yourself.
😉❤️

"Dude!" Debbie groaned.

"Coming!" I rolled my eyes with a laugh as I put my phone down and changed into one of the tops.

.....

.Carl.

Fuck. Me. I sat in the locker room at the academy and read her text with a smirk as I felt something growing between my legs. This whole poetry thing was pretty awesome; getting so turned on by so few words. It made me feel smart like Layla, too. I often found myself looking for poems to send her, and was definitely more focused on the meaning behind them than I'd ever been in high school. Then again, in high school, the endgame of reading and sharing poems had never been sex.

Tomorrow was thanksgiving, and we were celebrating with my family. Her parents hadn't contacted her since that night, and I hated them for it. I knew she was sad, but she put on a happy face most days. She was excited to be celebrating with my crazy family members, all of whom considered her family too.

I had the next two days off; four if I counted the weekend. I was so ready to see Layla for longer than an hour at a time. There would be plenty of time for me to put my hands between her legs to see how she felt about me.

I'd started sweet with her today, but she'd made things dirty, so I had to reciprocate. I found one I liked by Faudet.

I love to trace your pretty lips with my fingers,
and imagine them going down on me.

"Gallagher!" someone interrupted, startling me. I quickly put my phone over the boner I had.

Luckily, it was just one of my fellow recruits at the academy, Mark Gomez. "Hey man, what's up?"