Page 55 of Married with Mayhem

The sudden tightness in my throat is painful. The picture on the tv swims in front of my eyes. For a fleeting second I’m dizzy. “I know, Pop. I’m sorry.”

“It’s still my fault,” he sighs. “I made sure this shit was always all around you. As your father, I should have done better.”

“Hey,” I say to my dad. “Nothing is your fault. I’ve made my own choices and that’s that.”

He sighs again. “Take care, kid. Be good to that sweet girl.”

“Aren’t I always?”

He snorts out a laugh that makes me wonder just how much he knows about what goes on inside my head. Probably more than I’d be willing to admit out loud.

As I fumble with the phone charger, eventually managing to get it plugged in, I notice that the shower has stopped. I turn the volume of the television back up and I’m clumsily attempting to close my duffel bag when Sabrina steps out of the bathroom.

“Forgot a change of clothes,” she mutters and emerges in a towel (A TOWEL!) that barely covers everything important.

Her hair is wet. Her skin glistens. My dick throws a ticker tape parade.

It’s like this girl woke up this morning and asked herself,“How should I murder Monte today?”This might very well do the trick.

Sabrina kneels on the floor and hunts through her suitcase with no clue that I’m dying right behind her.

Okay, that’s probably not true.

On some level she has to know exactly what she’s doing. It’s a dare she thinks I’ll never take. A battle of wills. A game. A test. Like putting a grilled ribeye in front of a hungry dog and ordering him not to touch it. Then leaving the room to see if you’ve trained him well enough to obey.

I want to fail the test, rip that fucking towel away, seize her hair in my fist and bend her to my will.

Also, somehow I feel drunker than I did a few minutes ago.

She collects an armful of clothes. When she stands, the towel shifts and nearly falls.

As if to add to the tension, a sex scene breaks out onscreen. The scene is not that graphic, but there is a whole lot of panting and moaning now filling up the room.

Sabrina looks at the screen. Her eyes shift back to me. There’s a flare of surprise on her face. Clearly, she wasn’t expecting to confront my heated gaze. Her eyes drop and then slowly rise, lingering on my dick, which is pitching a tent inside these stupid shorts. Perfect. Now everyone in the room knows I’ve got a boner.

“I guess you’re enjoying the movie,” she says and retreats back to the bathroom. That freaking towel barely covers her ass.

Again and again I’ve resisted temptation, scolding my own cock for refusing to get the message that Sabrina isn’t fair game. I’ve endured the sight of her prancing around in a towel. I’ve done my best to stop staring at the way her incredible tits stretch the fabric of her tight t-shirts. I’ve ignored the sexy flush in her cheeks when she wakes from sleep with her hair messy and a lazy, secretive smile tugging the corners of her full lips.

I snatch the remote and shut the tv off. What I should do is put my shoes back on and go take a brisk walk until this half-drunk feeling disappears.

This idea is still wandering aimlessly around in my head when Sabrina returns with her damp hair neatly combed. And fuck me, she’s wearing my shirt again. I can’t tell if she has anything on underneath. The thing is basically a short nightgown on her.

She sits primly on the edge of her bed and crosses her legs at the ankle. “Did you get tired ofThe Notebook?”

“Something like that.”

“That’s too bad.” She clucks her tongue. “Men ought to get in touch with their sensitive sides now and then.”

I walk over to the only window and push the curtains open. This room is too damn suffocating. On the other side of the window there’s nothing but dark sky and the parking lot lights below.

“As if you understand the first fucking thing about men.”

I don’t even realize I’ve spoken aloud until she gets angry.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” she says.

I plant my palms on the window glass. I can see her reflection. She’s still sitting on the bed but now the mattress springs creak as she stands up.

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