His eyes glanced down to my chest, which the bedding was no longer covering. “It was, um—late—”
“Don’t look at my tits right now, Jay—”
“They’re nice tits—”
“Yeah, I know they’re nice,” I retorted. “Get up.”
He let out a disbelieving laugh and said, “What?”
“Get. Up,” I reiterated, this time with more bite.
“Zoey, what’s the big deal?”
“What’s the big deal?!” I asked, my voice hitching up high.
“Zoey—”
“Jay—”
“I don’t get it, I fell asleep here after we had sex, what’s wrong—”
“I don’t sleep with men, James,” I told him firmly.
“Huh?”
“I have never,” I spoke as I stood from my bed, punctuating my words for maximum impact. “Slept. With. A. Man.” I snatched his boxers and pants in one fell swoop and threw them at him. He flinched as they landed on him, and I stated, “Until fucking…this. Get up.”
“I—” James stammered, skittering to his feet and yanking his clothing on. “You’ve never slept with someone?”
“No.”
He found his button-down shirt on the floor, and he pulled his arms through the sleeves. Button by button, the gears visibly cranked in his mind before he asked, “No sleeping partners, ever?”
I rushedly dressed myself in flannel pajamas that were placed in my dirty laundry bin from the day prior.
“No.”
I started to point at my door to show him where his exit was, but he just held up two hands in weak defense.
“Okay,” James spoke slowly, as if I were a frightened animal. “Easy. Take a breath.”
“I do not need to take-a-breath!”
“I’m sorry, Zoey. I didn’t know I was crossing a line…”
His words faltered when I let a long breath out of my nostrils.
“That,” I pointed to my bed, “made me feel very…betrothed.”
“Betrothed?” he questioned.
“Yes, Jay,” I snapped. “That was too much, I don’t want—”
“Zoey,” he chuckled, eyes wide now, “I don’t want to be betrothed. I’m still in the process of getting un-betrothed.”
I paused, his reply causing my initial panic to ebb away. “Okay, well—”
“Well,” he interjected, “we had sex and I mistakenly slept in your bed with you. That is all.”