The Art of Us by K.L. Hughes

Author:K.L. Hughes [Hughes, K.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ylva-Publishing
Published: 2017-10-22T22:00:00+00:00

Charlee stands in the open doorway of her old bedroom and stares at the partially covered lump in her bed. She takes in the long, bare leg sticking out from under the covers and the polka-dotted panties adorning the firm ass peeking out from under one of Charlee’s own T-shirts. She takes in the gentle sound of Alex’s breathing and the tangled mess of hair that looks to have devoured her pillow. Even with Alex’s makeup smeared around her eyes and halfway down one cheek, Charlee could look at her forever. She absorbs the sight, the sounds, the moment, and lets it all sink in before finally moving fully into the room and closing the door behind her.

The bed creaks, a quiet sound, as Charlee perches on the edge. She reaches out and carefully pushes back a wave of hair, brushes the back of her hand down Alex’s cheek. Her chest swells with the touch, with the intimacy of the moment. It feels familiar, painful. It feels right.

“Alex,” she says, unable to stop herself from running her thumb across a plump bottom lip.

A tiny groan escapes the sleeping woman, making Charlee smile. She glances to the door for a moment before taking a deep breath and shifting on the bed. She lies down beside her, their heads sharing the same pillow, and takes in all the lovely lines of Alex’s sleeping face. Guiding her fingers from Alex’s cheek up into her hair, Charlee scratches lightly at Alex’s scalp and pretends it is okay. She pretends she’s years younger. She pretends Alex is still hers.

“Alex,” she says again, a little louder. A thrill rushes through her system at the quiet sound of pleasure rumbling in Alex’s throat. “Wake up.”

When Alex’s sleepy green eyes open and lock onto Charlee, a lazy smile draws up one corner of her mouth. “God, you’re beautiful.”

Charlee’s stomach flips and flutters. “And you’re asleep in my bed in my mom’s house.”

Alex’s brow furrows for a moment before her eyes bulge, and she rockets up in the bed. “Shit,” she says. “Shit. Shit. I thought I was dreaming.”

“Stop freaking out.” Charlee grabs Alex’s arm and encourages her back down. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” Alex says, tugging back up.

“It’s okay.” Charlee gently pulls on Alex’s arm again, and this time, Alex lets herself sink back down. “It’s okay.”

Alex settles onto the pillow, her face only inches from Charlee’s. “It’s not okay.” She closes her eyes. “I don’t know why I came here. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.”

“You’re not mad?”

Charlee ignores the question. “Do you dream about me often? About how beautiful you think I am?”

Alex gapes at her. A slight blush colors her cheeks. “Are you serious?”

“You look like a raccoon.”

“I probably smell like one too.”

“I won’t disagree with that.”

Alex rolls her eyes, and Charlee reaches across the space between them to poke her arm.

“About last night,” she says, but Alex quickly interrupts.

“Don’t. We were drunk.”

“That doesn’t excuse it.”

“No, it doesn’t, but you don’t owe me an apology. Nothing happened.”

“Something could have happened.

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