Good.
Good?
This is cruel.
Roman
This is teaching you. There’s adifference.
I throw my phone across the bed and stare at the ceiling.
My body is screaming at me to just finish what he started. It would take maybe two minutes. Less, given how worked up I still am.
Because some masochistic part of me wants to see if he’s right. If this actually works. If my body can learn to do with someone else what it’s always done alone.
But I can’t help myself. I slide my hand across my stomach and under the edge of my sleep shorts, my phone buzzes and I jerk my hand back as if I’ve been caught.
Roman
Marnie.
What?
Roman
Don’t touch yourself.
How did you...UGH
Roman
Because I know you. You’re lying there thinking about it. Thinking about how easy it would be.
He’s right. I hate that he’s right.
Roman
Go to sleep. Tomorrow’s another lesson.
I hate you
Roman
You keep saying that.
Because it keeps being true.
Roman
Goodnight, Moxie.
I roll over, punch the pillow, and eventually fall into restless sleep sometime after five.
The travel dayto Toronto is torture.
I’m exhausted from not sleeping, hyperaware of every time Roman looks at me, and trying very hard to act professional when all I want to do is either kill him or climb him. Possibly both.
“You okay?” Jake asks during warm-ups. “You seem... tense.”
