Boy Next Door

It Gets Better

It was 7 am—Quinn was still fast asleep and Shawn had a little over an hour before he had to be at the café for a morning performance. They decided to take full advantage of their alone time and spent a large chunk of the early hours entangled beneath the sheets. For the first time since they started dating, Camila had no baby bump. Physically, this opened up a whole new world for them. Their chests were pressed flush against one another as he effortlessly pushed himself into her. This new closeness set their already steamy sex life on fire. That—combined with their ability to finally explore positions and techniques that had previously been off the table—had Camila writhing on the bed, desperately gripping at the sheets as he continuously brought her to the peak of ecstasy. He thrusted into her a few more times before leaning back and pulling out of her. He removed the condom from his length before giving himself a few quick strokes and releasing himself onto her chest and stomach. Camila drew her bottom lip between her teeth and blushed as she brought her fingers up to play with the sticky liquid coating her skin while Shawn fell onto the bed beside her to collect himself.

"Fuck," he panted.

"That was...magic."

"It really was," Shawn agreed with a pleasured sigh. Camila rolled into her side and pressed a quick kiss to her fiancé's lips before climbing out of bed and stepping into the shower to quickly clean herself up. Shawn followed shortly after, joining her for a brisk and innocent shower before he had to leave for work. Leaving for work for the first time since she returned was more difficult than he had anticipated. While he was happy that Camila would be able to be with Quinn while he was gone, he couldn't help but think back to the last time he had left her to go to work—and everything that had happened when he returned. He shook the thought from his head and gave both of his girls a kiss before going to the café.

It was a beautiful morning in Miami—the cool breeze was a welcome change of pace from the typical sweltering heat the city normally brought. Camila opened the windows and played some music as she made quick work of tidying their apartment. Luckily for her, it didn't take much work. Shawn did a fantastic job of keeping everything clean and organized while she was gone. She made herself a cup of coffee and sat down on the couch—the memories of their morning rendezvous consistently replaying in her head. Maybe it was because she had only been with one other person in her life, but sex with Shawn was...different. The best kind of different. The kind of different where she'd be thinking about it hours or sometimes even days afterwards. They were never sub-par together, they were never mediocre. Each time was passionate and electrifying and she could never quite get used to the overwhelming feelings of love and pleasure she would feel while they were connected to one another. Deciding to get out her thoughts the only way she knew how to, she went back into their bedroom and grabbed her notebook and a pen. She was shameless in her words because that's exactly how he made her feel.

About an hour later, she received a text from her fiancé.

S: Hey hottie. Taking a quick break and then going to play a few more songs. Should be home in like an hour. How's your morning going?

Camila glanced at the page she had written and could feel herself blushing.

C: Pretty good. I wrote a sex poem. 🥴

Shawn's eyes widened in surprise as he chuckled at her confession.

S: Damn. I must've really killed it this morning.

C: Apparently! Lmao.

S: So...do I get to read this scandalous sex poem when I get home? 👀

Camila debated it for a second before grabbing the notebook and taking a picture of the words she had written. Her thumb hovered over the 'send' button for a brief moment before finally tapping the screen and sending him the photo. Shawn smiled when he saw the image come through but that smile quickly turned into a blushing smirk as he read over her words.

He makes sure to look right at me as he places his electrical wire fingers on my skin.

"How does that feel?" he asks, commanding my attention.

Responding is out of the question.
My lips quivering in anticipation, he smiles.
He knows this is what hunger looks like.

I am a switchboard, he is the circuits.
My hips move with his — rhythmic.
My voice isn't my own when I moan,
it is music.
He sparks enough electricity inside me to power cities.

When he finishes what he's started,
it is me who looks at him and says
"that was magic".

He found himself holding his breath as he read through the poem over and over again, his mind also being flooded with memories from earlier that morning.

S: Woah. Wow.

He knew his response wasn't much but it was all he could think to say.

C: Does that mean you like it?

S: It means I need to get back on stage and sing so I can get back home to you and inspire another poem. 🥵

C: As much as I would love that, you seem to be forgetting about a certain tiny human that lives with us.

S: She'll be ready for a nap in a few hours. We'll just stall until then.

C: Ok. Good plan.

S: Want me to bring home lunch? You'll need the energy. 😏

C: Damn. The poem is really that good, huh? I would love lunch.

S: Ok. See you soon. I love you! 😘

C: I love you more. ♥️

Camila dropped her phone down onto the couch and sighed in contentment. Of course she still had tough moments, but she was in love with her life for the first time in what felt like forever. She found herself getting emotional whenever she would think about the fact that she almost gave up on the life that she now loved so much. So many things had already happened that she would've missed if she were gone. She wouldn't have gotten to see her book become a New York Times best seller, she wouldn't be watching her beautiful daughter smile from the sheer joy that kicking her little legs up in the air brought her, and she wouldn't be engaged to the incredible man that had saved her on several occasions.

She wiped a stray tear from her eye and smiled widely at the positive turn her life had taken. The term "it gets better" always felt like a vague and uncertain promise, but now she was finally starting to believe in its truth. There's a difference between being in a bad place and having a bad life. Leaving the bad place that she had fallen into behind her, she was fully ready to move on with her beautiful and love-filled life.

A/N: Poem is by Rupi Kaur.