Wow, that feels even more pathetic now I’ve said it aloud.
“You did seem sad last night. What happened? Do I need to get a shovel?” he asks, only half-joking as he walks into the room.
“Er, not really. It’s hard to blame someone else when it’s mostly just me throwing myself at unavailable men, breaking my own damn heart.”
He pushes in and sits on my bed. “Thane, I take it?”
I nod, sliding back under the covers, pulling a pillow over my head.
“Are you sure he’s unavailable? I didn’t spend a whole lot of time around the two of you, but anyone with eyes can see that you’re both completely gone over each other.”
I pull back the pillow, just enough to look him in the eye. “You think he’s gone over me?”
Sam slides his chin forward and raises his eyebrow. “Uh…yeah. He wants to throw you over his shoulder, take you to his cave, and get you pregnant as soon as humanly possible.”
Well, I did let him breed me.
I bring my hands to my face and shake my head, though to Sam, I probably just look like a rustling pile of duvet and regret. “Doubt it.”
He pats my knee, and I think that he must be the sweetest sex worker known to man.
“What makes you doubt it?”
I whine and give a little poopy kick.I don’t want to adult right now.
“I’m waiting.”
“Fine. We fucked—well, he fucked me, and I thought we were doing something else—and then he got up to leave like it was no big deal.”
“Shit, dude. I’m sorry,” he says, gently pulling the pillow off my face and tucking it under my head. “So you thought y’all were, like, making love?”
I throw my arm over my eyes, groaning dramatically. “We didn’t even use a condom.”
Sam gasps, grabbing my free hand. “Wait, wait, wait. Hebarebackedyou, then just got up, wiped his dick off, andleft?”
I cringe at the description and peek at him from under my arm. “Not exactly.”
Crossing his arms, Sam demands, “I’m going to need the rest of the story.”
I sigh morosely, maximizing the dramatic effect, then finally look Sam in the eyes. He’s not impressed.
“Here’s the thing. I saw that he was looking for an out, so I told him to leave. Figured I should try to have a modicum of self-respect.”
He nods, patting my hand. “Looking for an out, how?”
“He and I…have a history together. We used to hook up when I was finishing up my masters and he’d wham-bam,” I pause here and whisper a few extrabams, “thank-you-ma’am me. Which, to be fair, was the agreement. We’d finish, and he’d do this weird thing where he’d kiss my collarbones and then leave.”
Lifting his delicate fingers to his prominent clavicles, he inhales softly. “Kiss your collarbones?”
I nod, completely despondent all over again. “Yeah, like a ring of soft kisses on my collarbones and neck. Which was always such a contrast to the railing he’d just given me. Then he’d vanish for another month.”
Sam tilts his head from side to side, still tracing his clavicles. “I mean…that actually sounds kinda sweet.”
God, itsowas. It was so fucking sweet, and every time he did it, he broke my heart.
“Yeah, well, so two days ago when he nutted in me and then immediately started doing the collarbone thing…let’s just say, I knew the score. Told him I needed to be left alone to figure my shit out.”
“And did he look relieved?”
