Author's Chapter Notes:
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No, this is not rated MA. Stop gaping.
No, this is not rated MA. Stop gaping.
He hasn’t stopped grinning since he left her. He feels like a complete idiot. An impulsive, wet, lucky, happy idiot.
His hands squeeze the steering wheel in time with his teeth clenching inside his head. He’s never felt so much like he wants to scream with glee before—he’s never thought of himself as gleeful, actually. He thinks, knows, that if his life were a musical he’d be bursting in to song right now. And that thought makes him laugh out loud, all alone in his car.
He can’t believe that his first engaged-sex with Pam was in his backseat, pulled up next to a dumpster at the back of a rest stop. He can still smell her perfume. And her. And him. And them. He gets a shiver when he remembers the way her breath felt against his stomach as she tried to warm his chilled skin. Then he grins again.
His phone vibrates in the cup holder.
I love you. I love you. PH
PH? PH. PH. Pam Halpert. Pamela Halpert. Pamela Morgan Halpert.
He breathes out and a sound falls from his mouth like he’s been punched in the gut. He dials her number.
“You shouldn’t be texting and driving in this weather.”
“I love you.”
“Pam, I love you too.”
“I miss you.”
“All I have to do is weigh in. Then I’m back. Cancel dinner with your friends?”
“Already did.”
“You really shouldn’t be texting and driving in this weather.”
