Who We Could Be
Page 20
Said chair was covered in pink velvet and circular shaped, so you kind of fell back into it when you sat. There was enough room to pull my feet up to get cozy, and it looked cool and modern.
“Tessa, I love you, but we have a theme. We agreed on the theme.” Monty pinched the bridge of her nose. I was going to have to get her some coffee soon, or she was going to lose it.
“Please?” I said, getting in the chair and clasping my hands together. “It’s soft and pretty and Persephone would love it.”
Persephone Pumpernickel, known as Seph, Kitty, Pip, and a number of other random nicknames, was our cat now. I couldn’t wait to be with her and Monty on our own place all the time. I was also inches away from convincing Monty that we needed to get another cat so Seph wouldn’t be lonely. So close.
Monty pressed her lips together, but I knew her well enough to know that she was going to cave. I had her.
“Okay, fine. But now we have to figure out where to put it.”
I wasn’t listening because I was doing a little happy dance to the music in the store. We added the chair to our haul for the day and then loaded everything into Monty’s car. We were storing all our shit in my parent’s garage until we officially moved in next weekend.
“I wonder how Gus’s date is going,” I said, sending him a text.
“I’m sure we’re going to find out when you pester him to death for details,” Monty said, but she was smiling.
“I can’t help it. I am very invested in his life.”
Gus had just started seeking out potential relationships online, and had been talking to someone for a little bit, and now they were on their first date. Or outing. I wasn’t sure what he was calling it. I was beyond happy for him, and I hoped it went well. He’d been giddy for the past few weeks every time he’d gotten a text from them.
“I know, but give him some space,” she said.
I deleted the text to Gus without sending it. “I can’t help it. I was all in his business for a long time. It’s a hard habit to break.”
She reached out her hand and squeezed my leg. “I know.”
Our own relationship had moved fast, in some people’s eyes. For them, those who didn’t know us, it seemed to come out of the blue. Every now and then I’d still get someone who thought I was with Gus, and then I had a very awkward conversation in the aisle with the laundry detergent at the grocery store.
For those who knew us, Monty and I getting together was obvious. Expected. “Oh yeah, that makes sense!” We didn’t hide. We were perfectly fine going out in public, holding hands, kissing, and being openly a couple. My mom was subtly rooting for a wedding in the not so distant future, but we were just trying to get moved in together and we’d deal with that later. We were both kind of put off by wedding planning, for obvious reasons. I had settled into my lesbian label, and it felt completely right in every way for me. Completely comfortable.
It was so natural, so easy being with her. I didn’t have to think about it. I didn’t have to wonder. There was no guessing, no stress. Being with Monty was freedom.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked, glancing over at me. She’d coiled her braid on the back of her head in a knot today, and pinned the entire thing up. Her dress was covered in wildflowers and I couldn’t wait to unzip it when we got back to her place. The dress was pretty, but naked Monty was prettier.
“You,” I said. “It’s usually you.”
“What kind of things about me?” she asked, a little smirk on her face.
“Usually dirty stuff.” That made her laugh. Our bedroom adventures had been illuminating. Turns out we were both a little kinky, in different ways. Monty loved being spanked and having her hair pulled, and I didn’t say no to a little choking or nipple clamping. A whole world of sexual possibilities had opened up and we had all the time in the world to explore all the ones we wanted to. I had a riding crop shipping to her house this weekend that I planned to have a lot of fun with.
“Your mind is always in the gutter.”
“That’s why you like it,” I said.
She sighed. “Yeah, I do. I love your dirty mind.”
“Exactly.”
“I love all the parts of your mind. Even the non-dirty ones.”
“I love your mind, too. But mostly your body.”
“Cin!” She tried to smack me, but missed. “I shouldn’t have let you get that chair.”
“You love the chair.”
She shook her head, little wisps of hair floating around her like a dark halo. “No, I don’t love the chair, but I love you.”
“I love you, Ford. Even if you hate my amazing chair. Oh, and one more thing.”
“What’s that?”
I smiled and crossed both my legs on the dashboard. “I was right.”
She gave me a deep sigh. “Fine. You were right.”
I crowed in victory and she burst out laughing.
Acknowledgements: To say this has been a rough year is a massive understatement. I honestly can’t even believe I finished writing this book. It started as a random idea that quickly bloomed into a series of scenes that were so clear, I could almost taste them. Writing this book has been a joy, a comfort, and a refuge. If I can give even a fraction of what this book has given to me during this time, then I’m satisfied.
My editor Laura is always there for me, and always keeps me laughing during the painful editing process. I miss your face.
Thanks also go to several authors who cheered me on and gave me encouragement including Magan Vernon, Tess Sharpe, Karina Halle, Molli Moran, and so many others.
Thank you to my Patrons who are somehow still with me even though I SERIOUSLY neglect it.
Thank you so everyone who supports me on social media and makes me laugh and sends me messages about how much you love my books. This job is not easy, but seeing those messages makes it all worth it.
This year, more than ever, I know the power of a love story. Of two imperfect people somehow finding something so special and valuable in this world.
Author bio:
Chelsea M. Cameron is a New York Times/USA Today Best-Selling author from Maine who now lives and works in Boston. She's a red velvet cake enthusiast, obsessive tea drinker, vegetarian, former cheerleader and world's worst video gamer. When not writing, she enjoys watching infomercials, singing in the car, tweeting (this one time, she was tweeted by Neil Gaiman) and playing fetch with her cat, Sassenach. She has a degree in journalism from the University of Maine, Orono that she promptly abandoned to write about the people in her own head. More often than not, these people turn out to be just as weird as she is.
Other books by Chelsea M. Cameron:
Nocturnal (The Noctalis Chronicles, Book One)
Nightmare (The Noctalis Chronicles, Book Two)
Neither (The Noctalis Chronicles, Book Three)
Neverend (The Noctalis Chronicles, Book Four)
Whisper (The Whisper Trilogy, Book One)
Deeper We Fall (Fall and Rise, Book One)
Faster We Burn (Fall and Rise, Book Two)
Together We Heal
My Favorite Mistake (My Favorite Mistake, Book One)
My Sweetest Escape (My Favorite Mistake, Book Two)
Our Favorite Days (My Favorite Mistake, Book Three)
Sweet Surrendering
Surrendering to Us
Dark Surrendering
Surrendering to Always
For Real (Rules of Love, Book One)
For Now (Rules of Love, Book Two)
Deep Surrendering
UnWritten
Behind Your Back
Back to Back
Bend Me, Break Me
Style (OTP Series, Book One)
Chord (OTP Series, Book Two)
Brooks (The Benson Brothers)
Second Kiss (The Violet Hill Series, Book One)
Double Exposure (The Violet Hill Series, Book Two)
Second Chance (The Violet Hill Series, Book Three)
&
nbsp; Dirty Girl (The Hot Mess Series, Volume One)
Dirtier Girl (The Hot Mess Series, Volume Two)
Marriage of Unconvenience
Unveiled Attraction
Anyone but You
Didn’t Stay in Vegas
Christmas Inn Maine
Bring Her On
The Girl Next Door
Find Chelsea online:
chelseamcameron.com
Twitter: @chel_c_cam
Facebook: Chelsea M. Cameron (Official Author Page)
Instagram: chelccam
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Who We Could Be is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are use fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, business establishments or locales is entirely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2020 Chelsea M. Cameron
Editing by Laura Helseth
Cover by Chelsea M. Cameron