[chapter eighteen]
Disclaimer: If you've heard of them, I don't own them. Everything else is mine, so no stealing, pretty please. ;-)
This story is gonna be darker, and deal with serious, sometimes disturbing
issues. Just so everyone knows. Okay? Okay.
**
~Faye's POV~
This is happy.
This right here.
Yes.
Sitting against my front door, remembering the feeling of Jimmie's lips, his arms, his everything as we necked on my porch for about three days.
Do people still neck?
I heave a sigh and try to wipe the grin off my face, without success.
I'm happy.
It had been so long, I nearly forgot what it was like.
Matt still hasn't made a scene when I show up at work. Hasn't yelled. Hasn't come after me.
Just glares and mutterings under his breath.
If that's what I have to put up with to be happy, to be with Jimmie, so be it.
I can live with that.
I just hope he hasn't been giving Jimmie any trouble.
I mean, they're teammates. I would hate to come between any sort of working relationship.
Honestly.
I just want everyone to be happy.
As happy as I am.
Right here.
I claw my way to a standing position, humming a tune under my breath as I make coffee for the morning, turn off lights, and get ready for bed.
All the while, Jimmie's voice is reverberating in my head.
The way his eyes crinkle when he laughs.
That one piece of hair that refuses to lay flat.
And, quite frankly, I can't get the vision of his adorable butt in those khakis out of my head.
This is happy.
I just hope he feels as goofy and silly and happy as I do right now.
Because it would really suck if I were on Cloud 9, and he were only on 3 or something.
But from the way he said goodnight, I'm hoping I elevated his status to at least 6 or 7.
Next time, I go for 8.
This is definitely happy.