I didn’t open my eyes. “No intention.”
“I can see that.” He climbed back on the bed, fully dressed, pressed his dick to my arse, and whispered in my ear. “Your mission for today, should you choose to accept it, is to buy some freakin’ condoms.”
Well, now I was awake.
I tried to roll over and grab him to keep him in bed, but he jumped back quickly. My arms caught nothing but air, and I fell heavily back onto the bed, exhausted at the effort. “I hate you.”
He laughed as he walked out. “No you don’t.”
I heard the front door close, followed by silence. I was left alone with nothing but his lingering scent and his absence and a smile on my face. And raging morning wood, thanks to his dick against my arse. And a distant thought I couldn’t quite remember, an inkling, not a memory, more of a feeling, tugged at my periphery.
Then it hit me, like a snowball to the face, or an armful of puppies, I couldn’t quite decide. My last thought before falling asleep last night was a realisation that I was falling in love with Andrew.
Well, not me exactly. My stupid, traitorous heart. The very wall I’d built around my emotional wellbeing, made up of a patchwork of broken promises and blistering hurt, amongst other miscellaneous things, had sprung a leak.
I didn’t know what to make of it. I didn’t know what to do. I should have seen this coming when I’d decided to give this whole boyfriends thing a try. I should have known where it was headed.
To make myself vulnerable was something I swore I would never do to myself again. It was a survival thing. After I’d suffered an incomprehensible betrayal by those I loved the most, I promised myself to never let it happen again.
To trust someone with your heart was the most frightening thing a person could do. It wasn’t just frightening, it was debilitating. My heart started to beat faster, almost to a panicked state. “Don’t know why you’re worried,” I said out loud to my heart. “It’s your fault we’re in this mess.”
Then I realised I’d just talked to my own heart like it was sitting beside me, and I wondered if my stupid brain had finally flipped its shit. I dug the heels of my hands into my eyes, two seconds away from calling for the white padded truck, when my phone beeped. I reached over and grabbed it only to see it was a message from Andrew.
The drugstore down the road is open. I just drove past it.
I smiled at the screen, and my freak out lessened a bit. I quickly replied. Don’t text and drive.
I’m stuck at a stop light. Have you got them yet?
I’m still in bed. Getting a little desperate, are we?
No. Not a little. A lot.
I laughed. Shame you left. I guess I’ll have to wank by myself.
His reply took a while. I hate you.
No you don’t, I replied. And what I’d heard him tell his mother last night played through my mind. He loved me; he didn’t hate me at all.
This weekend I’ll show you how much I hate you. You better buy in bulk.
I burst out laughing, my inner meltdown was almost forgotten. Deal.
A lot earlier than I normally got up, I rolled out of bed and took a shower, got dressed, and headed straight to the chemist. God forbid if I got side-tracked again and forgot to buy the condoms. Andrew’d never forgive me. I picked up the biggest pack they had, then thought better of it and grabbed a second pack as well. I was gonna hold him to this deal. We’d done well to make it to this weekend. I had high expectations and little doubt it was going to be worth every second.
I got back home and threw the package on my bed. Two bulk packs of frangers and a bottle of lube and a pack of jelly beans spilled out on the still-rumpled sheets. I snapped a pic on my phone and emailed it to him with the message, My end of the deal is complete. Now you just need to hold up your end of the deal.
He didn’t reply for an hour or so, and when my phone beeped, I was downstairs explaining to Emilio and Daniela what had happened when we took Yanni to Andrew’s parents’ house. I took out my phone, and I guessed, looking at the clock, that Andrew would have just gotten to work after the gym. What’s the candy for?
I replied, Stamina. Yours, not mine.
When I re-pocketed my phone, both Emilio and Daniela were staring at me. I tried to wipe the smile off my face. They both gave me fond smiles, kinda like I’d imagine proud parents would look at their kid when they were all grown up. “What?”
Emilio shook his head slowly. “You have it bad, my friend.”
I groaned. “I’m trying not to think about that, thanks very much. I had a minor freak out this morning, and I might have heard Andrew tell his mother last night that he was in love with me, and my stupid brain packed up and left—”