Page 73 of Sparks Fly
The second bottle of beer goes down a little too easy, and after a minute, I am up and fetching another two. I shouldn’t be having anymore but all I can see is her face, the way her eyes locked on mine, glistening blues with unshed tears. I crushed her in a matter of seconds.
It was harsh and I hurt her, but I had to do it. Once the emotions calmed down, she would understand.
I sip the beer this time, not so eager to down this one as quick. My finger taps on the armchair of my sofa, eyes locked forward when my phone pings with an email. With a heavy inhale, I place the bottle down and swipe my phone.
“Please be good news,” I whisper to the abyss as I open it up.
Reading the email, my heart is in my throat.
We’re good to go.
“Yes!” I shout loudly and then wince, worried I would wake her when realisation settles in that it is only me here.
No one else.
She is still in Monaco.
I shut the thoughts down; I need to go to bed. I am tired and everything is escalated when you’re tired. Putting the still full beer bottle in the fridge, I finish the rest and leave the empty bottles on the side. I’ll deal with them tomorrow.
Making sure everything is locked up, I take myself upstairs and collapse onto my bed. Rolling on my back, I place my phone on charge and stare at the ceiling for a while, trying my best to not let my mind wander to the pretty red head I left in Monaco.
There’s that ache again, lodging itself into my chest.
“Fuck this.” I push up and move for the shower.
The hot water cascades over my body, the powerful jets hitting my skin, pinching for just a moment before easing away. Scrubbing my body, I rinse off and shut the shower down. Stepping out into the steam filled bathroom, I wrap myself up in a towel. Brushing my teeth and rough drying my hair, I pad back into the bedroom and pull on my pyjama bottoms. Loose, black, wide leg. Comfort is key.
Hanging up the towel to dry, I finally climb into bed and groan with how good it feels.
I love the penthouse, but my bed is amazing.
When I move out there, this will come with me.
Rolling on my side, I will myself to fall asleep. The tiredness I felt downstairs has left and all I feel is wired.
My mind is too powerful. It plunges me back to this morning when I woke up, arm over her body as I held her close, my cock hard from pressing into her.
Shamelessly, I hate to admit that I took myself out of that bed as quick as I could and jerked off in the bathroom.
I’d needed to. My cock ached at the thought of being inside of her.
But that’s all it will be. A thought.
Rolling on my back, I feel my cock swell beneath my pyjama bottoms, and I smother myself with the pillow and push the images of her out of my head.
I am so fucked.
Anaïs
He fucking left without a word. Snuck out like a dirty one-nightstand. Except it wasn’t even that, was it?
I am so stupid to have thought that something would have happened between us. He was right to stop it, but still, it hurt. He pushed me away. Then he left me alone.
Curled onto the sofa, I stare numbingly at the wall in front of me. Rue has tried to call a couple of times, but I don’t have it in me to this pathetic excuse of a girl at the moment. I need to pick myself up and dust myself off.
Rejection stings.
But we probably would have regretted it if it happened.
