Page 101 of Pretend You Love Me

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She smiles tightly. I set a plate in front of her, but she doesn’t move.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“You think they’re even alive?”

I run my hands through my hair. “Your mom and sister?”

She nods.

“I hope.”

“But they might not be.” She rubs her forehead.

“It’s possible, but you can’t think about that right now.” I rub her back. She finally picks up a fork and starts eating, and I sit beside her and do the same.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Brooklyn

I wake up sore everywhere. I lost count of how many orgasms he gave me yesterday. I doubt I’ll be able to walk straight. He’s awake before me again but holding me. I’m dreading this morning. I’m dreading this day.

“How are you this morning?” he whispers. His chin is resting against the top of my head.

“Sore,” I laugh.

He leans back. “Was it too much? Did I hurt you?”

I rub my hand over his chest. “No. It was perfect. I’ve never been happier to be sore, but I don’t think I could take another round. I need to get going anyway.”

I feel his body tense under me.

“Go?” His voice is tight.

I sit up, holding the sheet up over my chest. It’s silly. I spent the entire day in bed with him yesterday. We fucked in the shower, and one more time last night on the kitchen counter, but right now, I don’t want to be naked.

His jaw is clenched. He sits up too. “Where are you going, Brooklyn?”

“Home.”

I see his Adam’s apple roll, one of his eye twitches slightly.

“Home?” he finally says.

“Yes. I have to fly back. I have work tomorrow.” I’m searching around for my clothes now. They are nowhere to be seen.

He’s completely still, completely quiet.

“Where is my shirt?” I mumble. He opens a drawer and tosses me one of his. “Here.”

I pull it over my head, and then I stand up, so I can really look for my clothes. I haven’t seen them in two days.

“Can we talk about this?” he says.

I stop and close my eyes. “What's there to talk about?”

“A fucking lot,” he yells, surprising me.

I sit down on the edge of the bed, “Fine, let’s talk. Go ahead. Would you like to tell me why you don’t write anymore?”

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