31. Chandler

THIRTY-ONE

chandler

The next morning I slipped on Reese's jersey, which was way too big for me. But it was the only clean top I had left to wear. Willow was out, so I was doing laundry and cleaning alone. The clinking of dishes filled the quiet apartment. Sudsy water swirled around my hands as I scrubbed the last of the breakfast plates. The washing machine was running, too, whirring from the other room. In just a few days, I'd be trading in this lake town for textbooks and lecture halls.

The sharp ding of a text message jolted me from my terrible singing. I dried my hands on a nearby rag before sliding up the screen. It was Kristina.

Kristina

Okay, so. I have a confession...

Me

Spill it

Kristina

I went out with Papi Likes Butts

I blinked at the screen, my jaw nearly unhinging.

Me

Kristina!

Kristina

I know, I know, but the options were limited on the app, and I figured why not? Plus, he's hilarious, Chan. I peed my pants!

Me

Oh, we have a lot to catch up on when I get back

Setting the phone down on the counter, I shook my head, still snickering. With one final glance at our conversation, I turned back to the sink and plunged my hands into the warm water.

Then a knock on the door made me pause. I turned off the faucet, my hands dripping water as I reached for the dish towel again. With a quick swipe across my hands, I headed to the door and pulled it open.

"Morning, beautiful," Boston greeted me with a grin, holding two to-go cups. "Figured you'd need coffee after last night."

"Aw, you read my mind," I squealed, taking the cup he offered.

He stepped inside. As I closed the door behind him, his body stiffened, narrowing his eyes. "Are you wearing Reese's jersey?"

"...sorta," I admitted, a sheepish smile tugging at my lips. "Laundry day left me with limited wardrobe options." I gestured vaguely to the chaos behind me, where the washing machine had a load running and a full basket sat next to it.

He placed his coffee on the counter, then threaded his fingers through his hair, pushing it back in a gesture that was both casual and disarmingly attractive. Leaning back against the counter, he watched me with a curiosity that was new—not angry but more mischievous.

"Want me to take it off?" I asked, half-expecting him to make it a bigger deal than it was.

But then he shot me a dangerous half-smile, his gaze suddenly burning with a heat that sent a thrill down my spine. "Nah, keep it on," he demanded, closing the distance between us. His hand found my hip, fingers gripping tightly and pulling me closer. Fisting a hand in my hair, he gently tugged. My head went back slightly and he leaned in, lips brushing against my ear. "I'm going to fuck you in it. So the next time you try to put this jersey on, you'll be thinking about me."

His breath was hot and heavy, making my skin prickle with goosebumps. I quivered as his fingers roamed up my body, tracing the outline of my breast. My nipples hardened under his touch, straining against the jersey fabric.

He pulled back slightly, then, gazing into my eyes as his hand slid down to the hem of my jersey. With a slow, deliberate motion, he lifted it up, exposing my stomach and the waistband of my panties. His fingers traced along the edge, teasing me before finally dipping below the waistband.

"Oh god," I gasped approvingly as he touched me, his fingers exploring my wetness.

“Fuck, you’re dripping wet.” He groaned in response, his own arousal evident as he pressed himself against me.

“Mhm,” I moaned, his fingers starting to move over my clit.

"Tell me you're mine," he demanded. His eyes were dark, fathomless, clouded with desire. "Tell me you belong to me, Chandler, not him."

I licked my lips before replying in a breathy whisper. "I'm yours. I belong to you."

He crushed his mouth to mine, swallowing my soft moan as he lifted me off my feet. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively before he set me on the counter. The taste of his desire lingered on my lips, fueling my own need for him.

He lifted up the jersey, his eyes devouring my nakedness underneath. He leaned down, taking one nipple into his mouth as his hand teased the other. I moaned in pleasure, arching my back as his tongue flicked and swirled around the sensitive bud.

His hand slid down my body as he slowly peeled my panties down my legs, his touch sending waves of desire crashing over me.

"Spread your legs for me," he growled, his voice low and husky. "Let me see that pretty pussy."

I obeyed, my heart pounding in my chest as I spread my legs wider, revealing myself to him completely.

"That's my girl," he groaned approvingly. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

He slipped two fingers inside as he continued to torture my clit, his touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through my body.

"I'm your girl?" I managed to ask. His eyes blazed with lust and possessiveness. He didn't stop for even a second to answer the question. Instead he continued curling his fingers, moving them in and out of me. The sensation was already almost too much to handle. I never wanted him to stop.

He leaned in closer with an arrogant smile. "You've always been my girl."

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer until our lips crashed together, grinding my hips against his hand.

“Oh, fuck.” I moaned in pleasure as his fingers continued to work their magic, teasing and stroking my swollen clit until I was gasping with need. Just as I was about to come, he pulled away, leaving me aching for more.

“Not yet,” he whispered and stood up, peeling off his shirt. His muscles looked even more defined and toned from the sunlight peeking through the windows. My heart raced at the sight of him. He reached down, undoing his pants and freeing his throbbing cock before sliding on a condom.

He positioned himself between my legs, his hardness pressing against my entrance. His lips devoured mine in a possessive kiss before his teeth grazed my neck, sending shivers down my body. He achingly teased me, tracing circles around my swollen clit with the tip of his cock.

"Boston, please,” I gasped. “I need you inside me."

He growled. "Tell me how much you want me, that you feel what I feel."

I whimpered. "Boston, I want you, I need you, I fucking love you."

I could feel my body trembling with anticipation as he pushed inside, pressing his hips slowly but relentlessly against me. The sensation was incredible, his size filling me. I moaned in response, and he captured my sounds with his lips.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he grunted, lifting up one of my knees.

His thrusts were slow and deliberate to start, slowly building up speed. I clenched around him, my body responding to his every movement.

"Fuck," I whimpered, his hands holding my body tight, his fingers digging into my hips, pulling me closer as he thrusted deeper and harder.

The tension was building, my orgasm approaching quickly. He must have sensed it because he suddenly changed his angle, hitting that perfect spot.

I moaned, "Oh god, Boston, holy fuck, don't stop."

I dug my nails into his back as he pounded into me relentlessly, each thrust sending waves of ecstasy coursing through my veins.

"That's it, pretty girl," he barked, his own orgasm building as he pushed deeper into me. "Come for me."

"Boston," I whimpered, my breath hitching. "I'm… going to… oh god..."

I came with a cry, my body convulsing as pleasure washed over me.

"Fuck," he roared, his own release triggered by mine as he came. I could feel his cock pulsing in me as he let out a breath. “I’ll never get enough of this,” he said, then picked me up and carried me before we collapsed in a heap on the couch, our bodies spent and satiated.

As we lay there, panting and sweaty, I couldn't help but feel the satisfaction flow through me. I knew he'd just accomplished what he wanted with the jersey. There was no way I’d ever forget what we’d just done—and on Willow’s kitchen island at that.

"So summer is almost over," he flashed that charming grin at me. "How many points have I scored with you so far?"

I couldn't help but smile. "Infinity, Boston," I rolled closer and rested my head on his chest. "Infinity."

His smile widened, and he dipped his head closer to mine. "Good answer." Then his lips captured mine in a kiss.

That moment—it was everything I’d ever wanted. The boy who raced ahead of me on his bike, who threw acorns at my window to get my attention, who made every birthday wish seem possible, Boston Riley—was all mine. I still saw the shadow of the boy I’d grown up next door to in his smile. That smile that dared me to dream bigger than our small town.

If I could have spoken to my younger self, I would have whispered with a smile, "We got him—he's all ours." The boy who captured our heart the moment we first saw him. That night, under the stars, we didn’t just exchange a jar of light or a simple friendship bracelet—we exchanged our hearts. Despite the distance, the missed chances, and the imperfect roads we traveled, we still found our way back to each other.