Hot Bubblegum by SoapyMayhem
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
0. . . oO•.o.Hot Bubblegum.o.•Oo . . .0
"The movers are here, Isabella," my mother called from downstairs.
She was still upset.
The only time she ever called me Isabella was when she was angry with me, and this time was no exception. The moment I announced my news to her and Phil, I thought she was going to pop a few blood vessels in her eyes, she was squinting so hard.
It was then that her ridiculous huffy breathing exercises kicked in, and her face finally relaxed a bit. According to my mother, "One's Chi should not be polluted with anger."
After calmly explaining my need for some independence and privacy, as well as reminding her that I was now an adult, Renee relented and actually agreed to help me pack and get settled.
I didn't have too much stuff, so it only took a day and a half to get everything boxed up and ready to move. According to the building manager for my new apartment, I had space for five cars in their private, full-service garage. I didn't mention that fact to Renee, knowing she'd want me to bring every car they'd ever bought me. So instead, I told her two was my limit and opted to bring my newest car, the Mini, and the car I got last year - my SLK.
Thankfully, that was enough to appease her.
In the days that followed, I spent my time moving in and working with the in-house designer to come up with a style that was, as she explained, "unique to my personality" - modern, open spaces accented with dark woods, rich purples and blues, contrasted by stark whites. It was all very luxurious, but didn't look too ostentatious or pretentious. It was just comfortable - me.
Once I was all designed-out, I spent a few hours scoping out the neighborhood and meeting a few of my less private neighbors. A few of them were celebrities - actors and musicians, rappers, and even a few athletes. Most of them didn't seem to notice me - either that, or they were good at pretending.
It was refreshing - but not as much as being with... him.
What I tried not to do was think about him and the way my entire body seemed to throb with need to be in his presence, or more specifically, to have him moving inside me, hovering over me with that intense look in his eyes.
Mike never once looked at me like that. No one had.
As much as I knew it was lame to compare the two, it was hard not to think of all the ways he exceeded any expectations I ever had when it came to sex.
After Mike, I never expected to enjoy it, much less obsess over it.
But it wasn't just any sex my body craved.
It was him.
My whole scheme to push him away before he found out the truth was for the best, but it was really starting to take its toll on my mental stability.
I stepped out of the shower, taking care to pat my ink dry.
Knowing I would have a permanent reminder of him, etched into my skin for the rest of my life, was enough to have my eyes brimming with fresh tears.
What the hell had I been thinking?
Did I really believe that I could have a one night stand and not expect to feel anything?
The fact that I felt nothing after losing my virginity to Mike must have given me a false impression of the act of love.
I had since learned that it wasn't something to be taken lightly.
Apparently, my heart was at risk.