I pull out my phone and slide down onto the floor, pressing my back against the wall.
M – Michael came by again.
R – Oh fuck. What happened?? You okay??
M – I don’t know. I think so. I’m so angry. After everything he did, he honestly thought he had another chance.
R – Does he?
M – No. He doesn’t. I don’t care if he thinks he loves me, I’m tired of wasting my time on people that don’t give a crap. I want to move on. I told him to leave me alone.
R – You think he will??
M – I hope so, it’s getting old Anyway, how are you?
R – I’m okay. Just got back to my room. I’ll call you.
I clutch the phone in my hand, waiting for his call. When it comes, I answer it quickly.
“That was fast.” He laughs, sounding tired.
“You sound like crap.”
“Long day. How are you, spoosie?”
I sigh. “Feel like shit after that conversation, but I’m glad he seems to have finally taken a hint. I just want to move on, you know?”
“Yeah. I hear you. How was work?”
“It was long. I’m thinking of taking up a new profession. How do you think I’d go being a prostitute?”
He laughs. “You talk way too much, they’d be out of there before they were even half way through.”
I laugh, feeling better instantly. “What about a sex line operator?”
“Good job, but again, you talk too much. Some poor guy would be jerking off and asking you to talk dirty, and you’d just be telling him about the time you dribbled syrup on your shirt.”
I burst out laughing. Trust Roman to always make me feel better about things.
“Thanks for making me laugh, Bestie.”
“That’s what I’m for.”
“You excited to come home tomorrow?” I tease. “You miss me?”
“Yeah, I miss you,” he says.
My heart swells. “Really?”
“Of course.”
His voice goes soft when he says that, and something stirs in my chest again. A feeling that’s beginning to scare me. Neither of us are in a position to get feelings for each other, so doing it will only cause problems, but it seems we’re not getting much of a choice.
Take it easy, Molly.
Just take it easy.
“Aw, anyone would think you like me,” I say.
“Yeah, you go all right.”
I laugh softly. “What are your plans when you get home?”
“Drink beer.”
I roll my eyes. “Typical.”
He chuckles. “I get in at lunchtime, but come over and see me tomorrow afternoon. Have a beer.”
I smile. “Okay.”
“Okay, beautiful. I’m going to go. Have a good night, okay?”
I smile.
A real smile.
“Okay. Goodnight.”
Just like that, he fixes all the hurt and makes it feel better.
Just. Like. That.
~*~*~*~*~
“Hey,” I smile, walking into Roman’s backyard with some beer in my hand.
He looks up from what he’s doing, and he smiles. Gosh, I really did miss him. “Hey,” he says, eyes dropping to my top. “Nice top.”
“Thanks.”
I sit down and he slides me a beer as I put mine in the fridge. “How you doing?”
I crack the beer and lean back in the chair. “Good. How are you?”
“Glad to be home.”
“Want to hear a really funny, really embarrassing story?” I say, taking a sip of my beer.
His eyes light up. “Um, fuck yeah!”
“Okay, don’t laugh,” I say, then roll my eyes because he’s totally going to laugh. “But this morning I had a bed frame delivered. Mine broke, so I needed a new one. Anyway, the men delivering it, put it together for me. So, all my sex toys are in a drawer by the bed, and they moved the drawers so they could get easier access to assemble the bed and ... Roman, stop laughing.”
He’s already chuckling, like he knows where this story is going.
“Go on.” He grins. “Tell me the rest, hobag.”
“Oh, my god, you’re lucky you’re not close enough to smack,” I say, then continue. “Anyway, so when they moved the drawer, one of the toys must have moved and turned itself on. The next thing I know, my drawer is vibrating. Everyone just went silent. We all looked at each other. And they knew. They. Knew.”
Through his panting and laughing, Roman asks, “What did you do?”
“I ran over and slammed my hand on the table, so hard. It stopped it, but it was too late. I rushed out of there so fast. It was terrible.”
Roman laughs harder.
“Shut up, tosser,” I giggle.
“That’s the best fucking story I’ve ever heard.”
“If you tell anyone, I’ll kill you.”
He grins. “I won’t tell a soul. Slut.”
I thump him, and he laughs harder.
“You’re lucky we’re friends, or you’d be dead in a ditch right now,” I threaten, drinking some more beer.
“Lucky for you. I’m awesome, with or without you.”
I roll my eyes.
He grins at me.
I’m so glad he’s home.
“So ...” he says. “What toys have you got?”
I squirm, and look away, flushing. Dammit. I never blush. I drink more beer then look back at him. “I have this really cool one, called the womaniser.”
His brows go up. “Details.”
“Well,” I say, crossing my legs as something flares between them, “it gets you there in, like, thirty seconds.”
He snorts. “Whatever. What is it? A giant dick?”
I scrunch my nose up. “Do you know nothing about women?”
He winks.
“No, actually, it’s kind of like ... it sucks your clit into the end of it, and that’s it, but it’s ... ah-maz-ing.”
“That’s it? It sucks your clit? Any man can do that for you.”
“Not with this force he can’t.”
He grunts.
I smirk. “Jealous?”
“Of a toy, hardly. So, how many times a day do you use this womaniser?”
“If I’m deprived, which I currently am, then probably twice, on average.”
M – Michael came by again.
R – Oh fuck. What happened?? You okay??
M – I don’t know. I think so. I’m so angry. After everything he did, he honestly thought he had another chance.
R – Does he?
M – No. He doesn’t. I don’t care if he thinks he loves me, I’m tired of wasting my time on people that don’t give a crap. I want to move on. I told him to leave me alone.
R – You think he will??
M – I hope so, it’s getting old Anyway, how are you?
R – I’m okay. Just got back to my room. I’ll call you.
I clutch the phone in my hand, waiting for his call. When it comes, I answer it quickly.
“That was fast.” He laughs, sounding tired.
“You sound like crap.”
“Long day. How are you, spoosie?”
I sigh. “Feel like shit after that conversation, but I’m glad he seems to have finally taken a hint. I just want to move on, you know?”
“Yeah. I hear you. How was work?”
“It was long. I’m thinking of taking up a new profession. How do you think I’d go being a prostitute?”
He laughs. “You talk way too much, they’d be out of there before they were even half way through.”
I laugh, feeling better instantly. “What about a sex line operator?”
“Good job, but again, you talk too much. Some poor guy would be jerking off and asking you to talk dirty, and you’d just be telling him about the time you dribbled syrup on your shirt.”
I burst out laughing. Trust Roman to always make me feel better about things.
“Thanks for making me laugh, Bestie.”
“That’s what I’m for.”
“You excited to come home tomorrow?” I tease. “You miss me?”
“Yeah, I miss you,” he says.
My heart swells. “Really?”
“Of course.”
His voice goes soft when he says that, and something stirs in my chest again. A feeling that’s beginning to scare me. Neither of us are in a position to get feelings for each other, so doing it will only cause problems, but it seems we’re not getting much of a choice.
Take it easy, Molly.
Just take it easy.
“Aw, anyone would think you like me,” I say.
“Yeah, you go all right.”
I laugh softly. “What are your plans when you get home?”
“Drink beer.”
I roll my eyes. “Typical.”
He chuckles. “I get in at lunchtime, but come over and see me tomorrow afternoon. Have a beer.”
I smile. “Okay.”
“Okay, beautiful. I’m going to go. Have a good night, okay?”
I smile.
A real smile.
“Okay. Goodnight.”
Just like that, he fixes all the hurt and makes it feel better.
Just. Like. That.
~*~*~*~*~
“Hey,” I smile, walking into Roman’s backyard with some beer in my hand.
He looks up from what he’s doing, and he smiles. Gosh, I really did miss him. “Hey,” he says, eyes dropping to my top. “Nice top.”
“Thanks.”
I sit down and he slides me a beer as I put mine in the fridge. “How you doing?”
I crack the beer and lean back in the chair. “Good. How are you?”
“Glad to be home.”
“Want to hear a really funny, really embarrassing story?” I say, taking a sip of my beer.
His eyes light up. “Um, fuck yeah!”
“Okay, don’t laugh,” I say, then roll my eyes because he’s totally going to laugh. “But this morning I had a bed frame delivered. Mine broke, so I needed a new one. Anyway, the men delivering it, put it together for me. So, all my sex toys are in a drawer by the bed, and they moved the drawers so they could get easier access to assemble the bed and ... Roman, stop laughing.”
He’s already chuckling, like he knows where this story is going.
“Go on.” He grins. “Tell me the rest, hobag.”
“Oh, my god, you’re lucky you’re not close enough to smack,” I say, then continue. “Anyway, so when they moved the drawer, one of the toys must have moved and turned itself on. The next thing I know, my drawer is vibrating. Everyone just went silent. We all looked at each other. And they knew. They. Knew.”
Through his panting and laughing, Roman asks, “What did you do?”
“I ran over and slammed my hand on the table, so hard. It stopped it, but it was too late. I rushed out of there so fast. It was terrible.”
Roman laughs harder.
“Shut up, tosser,” I giggle.
“That’s the best fucking story I’ve ever heard.”
“If you tell anyone, I’ll kill you.”
He grins. “I won’t tell a soul. Slut.”
I thump him, and he laughs harder.
“You’re lucky we’re friends, or you’d be dead in a ditch right now,” I threaten, drinking some more beer.
“Lucky for you. I’m awesome, with or without you.”
I roll my eyes.
He grins at me.
I’m so glad he’s home.
“So ...” he says. “What toys have you got?”
I squirm, and look away, flushing. Dammit. I never blush. I drink more beer then look back at him. “I have this really cool one, called the womaniser.”
His brows go up. “Details.”
“Well,” I say, crossing my legs as something flares between them, “it gets you there in, like, thirty seconds.”
He snorts. “Whatever. What is it? A giant dick?”
I scrunch my nose up. “Do you know nothing about women?”
He winks.
“No, actually, it’s kind of like ... it sucks your clit into the end of it, and that’s it, but it’s ... ah-maz-ing.”
“That’s it? It sucks your clit? Any man can do that for you.”
“Not with this force he can’t.”
He grunts.
I smirk. “Jealous?”
“Of a toy, hardly. So, how many times a day do you use this womaniser?”
“If I’m deprived, which I currently am, then probably twice, on average.”
