Pandora's Box

The Girl I Love Sits At Home

The ceiling of my bedroom got more interesting every morning. Sometimes, if I looked hard enough, I thought it could give me the answers to all my questions.

Like what the hell was I thinking last night?

Crumpled bedsheets and clothes strewn across the floor were the only remnants of Matt's visit.

I pressed the palms of my hands to my forehead and sighed.

We, Matt and I, hadslept together,fucked,made love, cheated.

And now I was supposed to be leaving for Miami. I glanced at my alarm clock, 4:57, three hours to get ready.

I stripped the sheets from my bed and gathered the items from my Halloween costume, stuffed them into the washing machine and now I slowly returned upstairs. Anything to fight the urge to check my messages, not that I was expecting Zacky to call.

So why was I so desperate to know if he had thought about me last night, if he had wondered where I had gone?

Shaking my head at myself I stepped into the shower and turned the water on as hot as I could stand it. It felt like the best way to get clean. To wash away the sticky, stale sweat, the smell of sex, the feeling of Matt's strong hands on my body. A shiver of pleasure involuntarily shot up my spine and I pressed my forehead to the damp tile of the bathroom wall.

Why had something so wrong felt so right?

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