Chapter 1
“Don’t stay out all night partying,” Agatha follows Billy outside her home where his boyfriend awaits inside the stalling car that’s parked alongside the curb.
“I won’t if you won’t,” Billy attempts to joke back, hearing Agatha click her tongue over his corniness.
“I mean it Moses. You kids have fun now.” She stops near the mailbox where he gives her a final nod before jogging right over to the passenger side where he opens the door to climb in and greet his partner a soft peck on the lips.
Relieved to know that Billy has somebody who loves him unconditionally besides family, Agatha blows a kiss and wiggles her fingers goodbye at the boys’ departure.
Heading back towards the house, she closes the door shut and locks it for good measure.
Rio sitting back in the arm chair startled Agatha and caused her to stumble in the living room.
“Jesus,” Agatha murmurs.
“Close, but not quite,” Rio answers.
“How are you?”
“Terrific.” Agatha rocks herself on the balls of her feet.
“Teen’s gone out with his boy toy.”
“You still have a hard time calling him by his name,” Rio observes.
“Why is that?”
“Maybe I prefer him as a dweeb,” Agatha shrugs.
“Or maybe ‘Billy’ brings you back to your past. Your unforgettable, made-up one.”
Agatha doesn’t like where this is going, so she tries to change the subject.
“Would you like a beer?”
“Is it going to be real this time? The mug of coffee you made tasted like ass.”
“You would know,” Agatha sneers before storming off to collect the cold ones in the fridge.
Rio takes Agatha’s fourth beer from her to place it on the coffee table and step forward to straddle her on the couch, where she holds her by the waist, accordingly.
“I do not have a hard time,” Agatha insists, trying to keep her eyes open as Rio cups her face to bring their mouths just inches apart.
“Fuck the past.”
“I agree,” Rio hums pleasantly. “Considering you're my past…” she presses their mouths hard together with their tongues twirling and brought a few moans release out the back of Agatha’s throat.
Rio grinds her leather pants tight up against Agatha’s denim ones, which causes a shortness of breath for both of them. Agatha, dizzy with the liquor and lust, rolls her head to one side of the couch cushion to let Rio trail kisses alongside her neck with her hand halfway up underneath her flannel mid-sleeve shirt.
“You are a softy, I swear,” Rio whispers in Agatha’s ear, playfully clawing her nails down along belly of flesh.
Agatha squirms and snatches Rio’s hand off her.
Maybe she was.
It didn’t matter.
Billy was having his night to remember.
So could she.