But when Lily started to explain that the reason she walked out of my apartment two Sundays ago was because of her, and not me...it knocked the wind out of me a little. I didn’t know why I had been so surprised. Maybe I was a little self-absorbed. Or maybe my head was still more fucked from Dan than I realized. Because Dan made it pretty clear that it was me. That it was always me who had misinterpreted things. Who wasn’t the right fit, who wasn’t enough.

The fact that Lily might think she wasn’t enough had honestly never even occurred to me.

It made all of my not-so-stable walls crumble immediately.

Because it was going to be the most fun I’d ever had, proving her wrong.

I pulled away from her mouth to 1) breathe, and 2) remove that scarf from her neck. The collar of her t-shirt was ripped and loose, and a growly sound escaped my throat, pleased at all that newly exposed, available skin. I attacked it with my tongue, with my teeth, and she wove her fingers into my hair, grabbing and pulling with a delirious-making amount of gentle pressure.

“Lily,” I said into her shoulder, my own hands roaming under her sweater, and then under her t-shirt, for which she rewarded me with a gasp, “I thought I’d never see you again.”

“Sam,” she whispered, and I thought that was all. I was seconds away, myself, from whispering her own name, over and over, for no other reason than wanting to say it. But then, a minute later, just as I was about to suck her earlobe into my mouth, she added: “I missed you.”

For a fraction of a second, I froze. And then, without really thinking about it, I found myself gathering up all that magical tulle in my hands, until my fingers could reach between those wonderful thighs. She shifted her legs, opening for me, and I pressed my fingers against her, and she was so hot there, even through the layers of thin fabric.

“Yes,” she whispered, tilting her hips toward me, “Please, Sam. Touch me.”

I always was a good listener.

Using both hands, I separated her leggings and underwear from her skin, navigating one hand down, down, and oh. I sucked in a short breath when I felt how wet she already was. Her underwear was some type of satiny material, smooth and cool against my knuckles, contrasted against the heat of her. She made soft, breathy sounds against my neck, and I wanted to swallow them whole.

After a few minutes of circling her clit, I slowly slid one finger inside her. She ground against my palm.

“Sam,” she whispered, “That’s perfect.”