“No, Drew, you can’t stand me. You’veneverliked me.”
“That’s not true,” she says.
“It’s not?”
“No. Actually, the first time I met you, I thought you were…charming. A little obnoxious because, I mean, youwerestaring at my tits, but still charming in your own way.”
“What changed?”
“Honestly? You did. After your accident, you were just so…cruel, and not just to me. That part I would have been fine with, but you were terrible to your dad and your sister and it just made me really fucking angry because they were trying so hard to be there for you and you wouldn’t let them. You had people who loved you, who wanted to take care of you, yet you just shut them out like they didn’t matter. You stopped showing up to work. I mean, not that you had a great track record for that before the accident, but it was way worse after. Then you just…I don’t know, gave up.” She scoffs. “And thatreallypissed me off because of what you had right there at your fingertips: love and support. You just didn’t give a shit about any of it.”
I don’t say anything, because her points are valid.
I was just in so much pain for so long that it morphed into anger. I know it’s my own fault in a way because I gave up, but to anyone looking in, they wouldn’t get it, wouldn’t understand how hard it was to get up every day and trying to live like I wasn’t in agony.
Giving up was easier. Smoking myself numb was easier.
I wanted easy.
“I don’t hate you, Winston. I’m just really fucking annoyed by you.”
I laugh. “You annoy me too.”
“See? That!” She points to me. “That right there. It’s why we could never work. We annoy each other too much. One of us would commit murder within the first six months. I just know it. A prison romance doesn’t sound appealing to me.”
“Or—and hear me out here—we could, I don’t know, actually make it work. Sure, we’d still fight, but just think of all the makeup sex we could have.”
She slams her mouth closed. Opens it.
Her wheels are turning. I just can’t tell if she’s thinking about what I’m saying and taking my proposal seriously or trying to find a way to let me down easily.
I’m too scared to find out.
“Winston, I—”
“Let’s not talk about it, okay? Let’s just enjoy the rest of the night. We have more pumpkin shit to eat and I want to enjoy it without you gaping at me like I have two heads.”
For a moment, she looks like she wants to argue.
But it never comes.
Her eyes flit to my cock.
“Well, you do technically have two heads.”
My lips tug up at the corners. “Shut the hell up and come on.”
* * *
“Holy fuck,”she mutters, coming down from her high.
I pull out of her, not wanting to leave her warmth but knowing I need to before I fall asleep on top of her.
“I think I just came so hard I pulled something in my back. It feels like I’m being stabbed.”
I laugh, rolling away and flopping down onto the bed beside her. “I mean, you’re welcome.”
She reaches back to massage her injury.