I can’t help wanting what I shouldn’t…
I shouldn’t want him at all. He belongs to her and I hate to admit this, but I want him more because she has him. To be fair, I wanted him before she came into the picture, before they saw the Barbie movie together and became inseparable, but her presence only intensifies things. I can’t stop thinking what it would be like to have him.
I glance over and see them standing at the bar and wonder what if it were my hand running up and down his spine? We have the same nail color, she and I—similar—not the same. Hers are French mine are ombré. My fingers are longer and more boney. Hers are short and less veiny. I much prefer mine with the veins. But she’s beautiful. I’d love her hands on me. In fact, I might allow it.
[Whispers to you, Dear Reader] She wants to surprise him with me for his birthday.
“We want to have an experience,” she told me as she gathered the straw and pulled it close to her lips, a pinkish brown color that was coated in that wet looking lipgloss sheen.
We were out playing golf. She told me this when it was his turn to swing. A group of us were there together, but in that moment it was only her and I. She sat on the left side of the high top table eye-fucking me while toying with her straw, I sat on the right, my legs crossed with a long slit up the side of my dress exposing my thigh.
We both looked in his direction as she spoke, then back to each other.
“I know this is coming out of nowhere, but when we think about having an experience it’s you who’s always top of mind. You’re our number 1 choice by far.”
He hit the ball super far and beamed back at us like a proud little kid. So fucking cute. I can’t stand to look at that dang smile. Maybe I shouldn’t. Maybe I’ll end up wanting more than I should.
My universe will become your obsession 💕