I stood and went out to tinker in the junkyard to give her space. It was like every time she got a shred of happiness, something was there to knock her back down. I felt for her. I wanted to comfort her, but she made it clear last night that I was the one who’d hurt her. I was the last one she wanted comfort from.
I found her back in her room when I finally went up for the night. I opted to let her stay there. My threat of a creepie attack was enough to keep her inside, I decided. In the morning, I heard her in the bathroom, scrubbing her panties. I felt bad I had nothing else to offer her. Bonnie and Cherry had taken all their underclothes. I made a mental note to order some in town after I dropped her off with Boogie.
We quickly found routine. I would wait for her to put her wet panties on, along with my pants, and then I’d take her into town to work with Boogie. While she was there, I worked in the junkyard. I lost time taking her to and from, but I enjoyed the ride in to town. The way she wrapped her arms around me and pressed her head against my back was… nice.
I found my mind drifting to her more often than not while I was building and tearing apart engines. I had to redo things two or three times sometimes because I got so lost in thought.
At the end of the week, I heard Eleanor groan loudly from the bathroom. “No!”
I wanted to ask, but when she came down, she looked grumpy and I didn’t want to argue. I spent the entire day wondering what had made her upset that morning, but it wasn’t until she got home and took her work pants, as she started to call them, off, that I caught it.
I blinked rapidly, trying to figure out if I had seen what I thought I’d seen when she stood on her tiptoes to grab a cup from the cabinet, but I had. She wasn’t wearing any panties.
I had to leave the room, my cock wouldn’t go down. I’d never seen a pussy that smooth and bald. It was weird, but so fucking arousing; my mouth watered as dirty thoughts invaded my mind. I tried taking a walk, but when I couldn’t calm down, I ended up going to my room to jerk myself off like a teenage boy.
I found her torn underwear in the trash the next morning. She’d scrubbed them so hard while she was menstruating, they’d been shredded.
So, she’d be going commando from now on? Jesus Christ.
I bit my knuckle and tried to stop thinking about it, but the thought was unshakable.
The last person I’d been with was Cal, and I hadn’t even gotten off. And before that, it’d been a long time. I was like a starved dog finally catching a whiff of meat. I was drooling for her bare cunt.
I wrestled with my thoughts for days. Was I interested simply because she was beautiful and within walking distance from my bed? Or did I find her actually attractive? Did I truly enjoy our morning drives into town? Or in the evenings, was I actually having fun dancing with her while I showed her the music of the decades her bunker had missed?
Her favorite song was ‘All The Small Things’ from Blink 182. Was it cute how excited she got when Atlas Adam played it onthe radio? Or did I enjoy watching her tits bouncing around under my shirt as she danced? Was the thrill of catching a glimpse of her ass or pussy blinding me?
I couldn’t decide. Every night, I went to bed alone, masturbating alone, wishing I had the courage to get up and knock on her door. We were heading into the third week of being stuck together and as we sat having dinner, she talked about Callahan, and how when he got back, she was going to look at moving.
“Boogie said that he has a room for rent, right above the shop. If I moved there, then you wouldn’t have to take me every day. I know you lose time in the junk yard having to do it.”
Panic shot up my spine at the idea of her leaving.
What? No!
“I don’t mind. You can stay here.”
“Thanks, but when Callahan gets back…” her words trailed off. Pain hit my chest.
“You want him.” I nodded.
“Well, yeah.” She smiled. “If I want to fix our relationship, I don’t think we should stay here.”
“You think I’m too tempting?” I teased. She didn’t smile.
“Yes.” Her eyes dipped to her lap.
For whom?
It was on the tip of my tongue to ask. I had to actively push it down. While nothing had happened since that drunken truth or dare kiss, neither of us could deny that we’d grown close over these two weeks. There’d been plenty of accidental touches and secret looks from both of us.
“What if he doesn’t want to fix your relationship?”
She looked up, her face went blank, as if she hadn’t even considered that.
“Then, I don’t know what I’ll do. I guess I’ll be… single. I guess I am, really. He said we needed to take these fewweeks apart and think about things. Maybe that was his way of breaking it off.”
She looked at me, her eyes pleading for me to tell her something different, but I couldn’t. I hadn’t been there for that conversation.
