Page 81 of Flock
But for some. For some ...
Welcome to my world.
There’s also “college phase” . . . “that year I was promiscuous” . . . “before I met”—these are also sayings I’ve read about or heard over the years.
Though my experience is limited in the telling of these stories, save the one I just earned, I know they exist. From what I’ve gathered, the college phase is always about promiscuity, freeing your inhibitions for an allotted time, and same-sex curiosity. Isn’t that one and the same of what I’ve just experienced? Aren’t I allowed time to explore my sexual prowess and expand it, if I so desire?
Finding a soulmate and one true love haven’t been on my list of priorities since Jared hurt me.
One day. Sometime in the future. But does it have to be now?
No.
It doesn’t. I do care for Sean in a way that’s too far gone to pull back completely.
And though the arrival of my feelings for Dominic surprised me, along with our connection, he doesn’t have to be Mr. Right.
No doubt, he’s not. Dominic doesn’t seem to be a forever type of man.
Falling for Sean is becoming inevitable. I love the way he cares for me, the way he makes me feel—the comfort his presence allows me to fully be myself.
Own it.
I’ll drive myself crazy if I don’t.
I can’t even bring myself to regret it.
Just out of a scalding shower, I study my reflection in the mirror and don’t back away from what I see. Skin tinted pink from the water; I let my eyes roam freely, searching for flaws, searching for a reason not to look.
All that I expect to feel, gazing at my reflection, I don’t.
This is owning it.
And it’s my decision.
At some point in time in a person’s life, they have the choice to search for their forever or let themselves off the leash.
One more glide of my eyes down my body lets me know what choice I’m making tonight.
Down the rabbit hole I go.
I slip into my second skin and rub scented lotion on it before pulling out dark washed jeans and an off-the-shoulder tee from my closet. I brush bronzer on and sweep thick black mascara over my lashes before lining and filling my lips a shimmering blood red.
Then I shoot off a text.
Maybe I’m not in college just yet, but it’s clear that my education has started early.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Ipull up to the garage to see several cars backed into the parking lot, and hordes of guys huddled around them—most faces unfamiliar, but their shared ink is unmistakable. The shop is pitch dark, locked up tight, the bay doors closed. Sean walks over as soon as I pull up. When I step out, I see his eyes heat when he takes me in.
“Fuck, baby, you look . . . goddamn,” he turns away from me, shielding me with his body to block me from the others, and I slip my arms around his chest, pulling him into me.
“Miss me?”
He turns and peers down at me, my hand locking around his back. “I wanted to give you space, and fuck me, it was hard. But it’s going to be even harder tonight.” His tone is filled with insinuation, which stirs my memory and I feel my cheeks heat.
He’s dressed in his usual attire—jeans, a T-shirt, his hair picked through, delicious. “You good?” He asks with genuine concern, as he hauls me tighter to him with his strong arms.
