Your Love is my Drug

“Where are you?”

I sighed, running my hand through my hair, glancing at the guy sleeping on the couch next to me.

“Out, I needed to clear my head,” I gave half of the truth, which was pretty much the only honourable thing I could do lately, “I had a fight with my parents.”

He sighed; I’d used this excuse a lot, “Sorry Lee, why didn’t you call me? I would’ve come home.”

I cringed, my heart dropping ten feet again. I just wanted him to stop being nice to be, stop making me realize what an ass I was.

“It’s fine. I survived,” my eyes drifted to Patrick, who was still snoozing soundly, “I’m heading home now, have a drink ready for me, please.”

Standing, I grabbed my coat and pulled the blanket over Pat, who merely stirred, but stayed asleep. On the other end of the phone, Brent chuckled and agreed, before we said goodbye.

I leaned down to brush the blonde curls out of his face, and place a soft kiss on his forehead. Then, I simply walked out of his house and into my car, heading to my real home. Guilt washed through me, but it had become routine.

Why did it feel worse when I spent time with him and talked to him, rather than after I slept with him?

*

I pulled into the driveway and saw a few extra cars in the driveway. Great. Sighing, I grabbed my bag and walked into the chilly Chicago air. The lights were all on, and through the window I could see shadows of a few guys.

I walked into the house and dropped my purse onto the floor, slipping off my shoes and putting them next to the door. Slowly, I entered the living room, where I saw Kris and Brent sitting with beers, laughing lightly.

Kris glanced up at me, “Hey! Look whose home!”

I smiled genuinely and walked to Brent, giving him a quick kiss, before flopping down next to Kris on the couch.

“You okay?” Brent asked, raising both eyebrows.

I merely nodded, feeling even more drained, “I’m fine. Just exhausted, who else is here?”

I could hear the talking in the kitchen, the fridge opening and closing, beers being opened. There had to be at least three more guys here, besides the two in the living room with me.

Brent shrugged, sipping his beer, “Sharpie, Tazer and Eager.”

My heart fell. WHAT? Before I could even think about what he’d just said, the three Blackhawk teammates were walking in. I looked up, absentmindedly, and met Jonathan’s eyes. He gave me a stern, ‘what the hell are you up to’ look.

I could only force a smile, saying a polite hello, before glancing at him again quickly. He knew something was up. I obviously hadn’t left to help Brent out with something; I’d been caught in the lie.

“I’m going to bed,” I said urgently, almost too quickly, “See you guys tomorrow.”

They all said good nights, but I wasn’t listening. I sure as hell wasn’t watching Jonathan watch me either. I wasn’t going to even give a slight hint; I needed time to make up an excuse- time to start a whole new category of lying.