Page 77 of Surprisingly Us

“I found it,” he announces and I’m officially deceased.

The moment is an out-of-body experience, yet the warmth of my face flushing in anticipation of his teasing quickly brings me back to Earth.

He stands and the waiting is awful.

His back is still to me, but the buzzing stops, indicating he’s turned it off.

It’s not only what it is that’s stressing me out, but the fact that I justusedit. That there is most likely still evidence of my use on it.

My mouth goes dry. All the moisture is currently leaking out of the palm of my hands.

Maybe this is the dream. It could be a dream within a dream. I think that’s a thing.

But it feels more like a nightmare, and I’m hoping to wake up any moment in a cold sweat. My flaming hot chest and back would agree that’s preferable right now.

Somewhere, there’s a woman much cooler and chill than me with zero self-consciousness and humiliation surrounding a situation like this. She’d laugh it off. And if she’s a sultry vixen, confident and experienced, she might even ask the man to use it on her.

My knees go weak at the thought.

That woman is not me.

I was bracing for his teasing, and completely unprepared for this agonizing silence.

Why is he just standing there?

Finally, Rhys turns and walks toward me. With his hazel eyes locked on mine, he hands me the vibrator.

“You’ll want to clean that.”

I nod, because what else is there to say?

Then, he leaves, closing the door behind him on his way out.

When he’s gone, I rush to the bathroom to collect my thoughts, but it’s like herding cats.

What the heck just happened?

Don’t think about it. It’ll be fine.

I’ll never be able to look Rhys in the eyes again.

Holy cow, that orgasm was intense.

After I’ve recovered from my mental breakdown, brushed my teeth, and fixed my hair, I wash said battery-operated device and return it to its home in my nightstand drawer.

I have to face Rhys eventually, might as well rip this band-aid off.

But when I walk into the living room, ready to embrace the discomfort of the situation, he isn’t there. It’s only Maxine lounging on her back in a patch of sunlight coming through the window.

“Where’s Rhys?” I ask her, but she barely glances in my direction.

What had been a mess of loose tulle last night has now been organized into rolls of remaining tulle.

I appreciate that he picked up, but I still have so much work to do. I decide maybe I’ll push weight training class an hour and see if I can get a few more tutus made. But first, I need sustenance.

I stop halfway to the refrigerator remembering today is grocery shopping day and there’s only one browning banana left to eat. I open it anyways, hoping I can rummage up some yogurt, even though I know I finished the last of it yesterday in my smoothie.

I blink. Then, blink again.

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