Page 87 of Full Tilt
He earned so much from me last night.
“Tommy,” I whisper into my dark bedroom, the blackout blinds I installed a few months back keeping out the rising sun. “I think you might’ve actually broken me.” I chuckle, draping an arm across the other side of my bed.
I’m only met with a soft duvet, and I immediately bolt up, still naked with marks littered across my breasts. I know there are more along my neckline—I can feel the faint sting of them, even now.
There’s no light filtering in from under my bedroom door and no sound or movement coming from the rest of my apartment.
Did he have early morning skate and didn’t tell me?
Perhaps he wrote a note before he left.
Pushing back the duvet, I slip into an oversize Storm training top and shove my feet into my fluffy white slippers, the chilly fall air now evident in my old apartment building, which doesn’t have the greatest furnace.
When I pull my bedroom door open, there’s no sign of life when I flick on the main light in my living space, and everything is just as we left it when Tommy carried me into my bedroom.
Did I dream this entire thing?
I turn on my heel and head for my phone, ready to text him and check I’m not going crazy when a message from Kendra lights up the screen.
Kendra
This is your reminder to use protection. That boy looked like you were his last meal, and I get the slightest inclination that you plan to go at it all night.
Kendra
Seriously though, babe, he actually shocked me tonight. Maybe you were right when you said that he isn’t the bad person we thought he was. Turning up at your place and wanting to talk things out? That’s not the Tommy Schneider I thought I knew…
Both her messages were sent last night.
He really was here, and we really did go at it all night if I didn’t check my phone once.
Taking a seat at the foot of my bed, I wince at the dull ache between my legs. Under different circumstances and if he were still here, I’d definitely welcome the reminder of how hard we fucked, but I can’t deny the cloud of dread as it settles above me.
The first call I make to Tommy immediately connects with his voicemail, and I hang up, more unease washing a wave through my gut.
He promised he’d prove he was different. Was it all just a play so he could fuck me all night and then toss me in the trash, like he’d once said?
Holding my cell in one hand, I bring the other to the side of my neck and then stand in front of my dresser mirror, the light from my living space enough to reveal the marks he made.
Humiliation rips through me, and I hit Call on his number again, anticipating that all I’ll get is his voicemail.
This time, his phone rings, and I hold my breath, praying he’ll pick up and explain he snuck out to grab us some breakfast.
His voice never comes, only the same recorded message to leave my name and number.
Now, I’m pissed. Convinced he’s definitely fucked me over.
As the woman continues talking, I wait for the beep so I can give him a piece of my mind. None of this makes any sense—theway he kissed me, looked at me, opened up and lowered his walls to let me in.
Last night felt so genuine.
“Tommy …” I finally begin speaking, my voice a mixture of pained and agitated. “I woke up around five minutes ago, but you aren’t here, and you didn’t leave a note. I don’t know …” I trail off, struggling to find the right words. I swallow hard and sit back down on my bed. “I don’t know what’s happened or if you planned to just do what we did and then leave without a word, but if you did, just know that’s a really shitty move.” My voice cracks, and I pinch my bare thigh. Hard. “If all of last night was a game after all, then you can be sure that this is the last time you’ll hear my voice. But if something happened and you need my help, then just please, call me back, okay?”
“Hello?”I rasp into my phone, hitting Stop on the treadmill and pulling in a deep breath.
After I waited around for an hour for Tommy to call or text me back, I gave up and came to the gym.
We have a playoff game tomorrow, and technically, I shouldn’t be working my body this hard, but I needed to blow off steam, and this was the only way I could get out of my own head.
