Continuation 5

The little cock blocker is jealous," I say.

"Sorry, Sadie," she says, kissing her way down my chest and abs. "He needs my attention right now."

* * *

"I really needto finish unpacking these last few boxes," she says, cuddling into my side on the sofa, making no attempt to get up. I'm sure she would've been unpacked days ago, but I've had her a little preoccupied.

Planting a kiss on top of her head, I say, "Why don't I help you?"

"That doesn't sound like fun," she says, raising an eyebrow at me.

"It will be if we do it naked."

She laughs, and I help her to her feet, pulling her into my chest, her tits pushing against me. I run my fingers through her long strawberry hair, leaning into her neck. "Rhett?" She means to scold me into action, but her voice is too soft and sweet.

"Payment up front," I tease.

She giggles, planting a sweet kiss on my cheek, then points to a large box in the corner. Usually when someone moves, boxes are labeled—kitchen, bathroom, etc., but this one is full of all kinds of odds and end. I pull out an old photo of the four of us taken on Ainsley's sixteenth birthday.

"Wow, look at us. We had no idea what we were doing raising you," I say.

"You didn't raise me. Brody raised me. You were just the hot friend."I start laughing, having no idea she thought of me that way when she was a teenager.

"It's not funny," she says. "All my friends drooled over you and Brody. It was terrible."

Raising my eyebrow, I lean against the sofa. "What about you? Did you drool over me?" I see the heat rise to her cheeks and catch her in my arms. "It's okay. I drooled over you, too. Not then, of course. But later, when you were in college, I had very, very bad thoughts about you and me." She slaps my shoulder as I reach down into the box, pulling out an old, ratty sketchpad I bought her long ago. "You kept this?" I ask, flipping it open.

She nods and smiles. I don't have to read what I inscribed to her. She knows it by heart even after all this time and recites it for me word for word: A. Rose, dream big! Sketch what makes you happy. Your dreams are still alive, find them.

She softly strokes my cheek. "When I found this on my nightstand a few months after my parents died, I thought it was from Brody until I opened the cover. I never could figure out why you bought it for me."

"You were so sad for so long back then," I say. "When I would catch you sketching, your eyes would light up. I was cleaning up one day and saw all these sketches on napkins of this one particular wedding dress."She flips a few pages in the sketchpad to show me, and I nod. "I used to draw my mom's dress over and over again. I always thought I'd wear her dress when I got married." She looks away. "But it was lost in the fire, too."

"I didn't know that part. I just bought the pad because it seemed like it was the only time you were happy. I can't believe you kept it."

"It was the best gift anyone ever gave me."