Page 2 of Last Love

Not sure what I will unbuckle my self-administered chastity belt for.

I kind of just assume that one of these days someone will come along and convince me to get into the sack again.

Sex is actually at the bottom of the list of shit I give a fuck about nowadays.

Fuck, I care more about finishing season three of The Office with Shelly than I do about getting my dick wet.

We need to know if Jim and Pam finally get together.

Noah’s not quite into it like we are, but it’s hard to be into much outside of living on his goddamn phone.

Dad used to do the same shit.

I know what the fuck it means.

I wish I didn’t.

Moving my gaze is done in tandem with grabbing a chocolate glazed donut. “Haven’t seen you here before.”

“You been lookin’?”

The hope in her tone is hard to ignore, yet I do.  “First time?”

“Here.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see her shrug indifferently. “Been meeting hopping since I got out.”

“What? Can’t commit?”

“Why? You proposing?”

The good-natured taunting retort turns my frame towards hers. “We both know you’re not the type of chick to settle for anyone who makes less than six figures.”

“Uh…seven,” she teases with a flip of purple tipped hair over her shoulder. “I do have standards, Collins.”

Another carefree chuckle escapes prior to a playful, “My bad.”

“You’re forgiven this time.” Kara dramatically winks further demonstrating why distance between us is best.

She’s over the top.

And on the other side is a bunch of bullshit I just don’t need.

In any amount.

“So,” I casually begin, moving the pastry towards my lips, “did this session reach your ‘standards’?”

Without warning, Kara rises to the tips of her toes and sinks her teeth into the semi-soft treat in my hand while her eyelashes bat anything but innocently up at me.

An unhappy grunt is instantly given. “I was gonna fucking eat that.”

“I take what I want, Collins.” Her words are spoken around the pieces in her mouth. “And I go where I want. Hence the hopping.” She swallows the stolen bite in victory. “Guess you could call me a free spirit.”

“Right now, I wanna call your ass a thief for that passive fucking robbery you just committed on my donut.” Shoving the tainted treat her direction is followed by another question appearing. “Is that what the purple hair shit is about? Showing the world that you’re a ‘free spirit’?”

“Nah,” Kara grins wildly while shifting the food into her clutches, “that’s what my top – or lack thereof I should say – is telling everyone.”

Is that what her lacy, white crop top that I can see the outline of her nipples in is telling everyone?

I mean…I’m definitely picking up on the free part.

And easy.

And the yellow brick road back to rehab she is presenting herself as.

I don’t wanna go back.

I don’t wanna be the Collins I was when I’ve got a real chance to be something else.

Maybe better.

At the very least less fucked up.

Kara smacks her lips loudly together placing my focus back where it belongs. On her eyes rather than her tiny tits. “Pancakes?”

“What about ‘em?”

“Wanna get some?” Her mouth is left dangling open so that I can watch her tongue’s movement. “Together?”

“Can't.”

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