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She starts playing her music only hours later. I never really let myself believe she’d stop for good, and I was right. Whether it’s fair of me to feel or not, it seems extra hurtful that she did it tonight of all nights. I can be so certain now, even more than I was, that whatever interest she does have in me is not a good thing.

I don’t even have the energy to fight it by trying to sleep. I put on a pair of headphones and watch some videos on my phone while I wait for it to stop.

It takes hours as usual, until the sun comes up, and then it’s quiet. My eyelids are heavy, and my back hurts from the position I’ve been sitting in. I stretch as best I can, and I slide back down until my head hits my pillow. My alarm gets set for nine, when I have to be awake and getting ready for work. It’s sure better than nothing.

I got a whopping two hours of sleep. You feel good about that?

Her response is there as soon as I get home.

What did I say about my front door?

Get over yourself,I reply

Again she’s quick to respond, because the next is waiting when I go outside to sit on the porch for a bit.

I said I’d be nice if you gave me a cookie. You chose your own fate.

Wow.

15

If someone were to ask, I wouldn’t know how to tell them I ended up in my neighbor’s house again. This time, in particular, her bedroom. She must have me under some kind of spell, because it doesn’t occur to me that I don’t want anything to do with her when I’mactuallylooking at her. There are brief moments of that reminder when I blink, but it doesn’t last long enough for me to stay away.

I was determined to not let this happen again after the last week's events. She was absolutely merciless, and didn’t give me one single night of reprieve. I’m grateful for my dad’s home cooked meals, and their quiet neighborhood, but I’m getting so sick of not being able to come home.

I was angry. I wanted to punish her, but I couldn’t come up with anything good that wouldn’t either involve another person or get me into trouble.Rejecting herwas going to be the thing.

I just didn’t want to when the time came.

She seems more sure of herself today, more confident in the places she touches me. She slips my shirt off with expert smoothness, and takes her time feeling my exposed skin. It’s different from any other time I’ve had a hookup, in the way that she’s silent. She’s not complimenting how soft my skin is, or pointing out how beautiful I am.

I’m not full of myself, but there’s usuallysomething.

She goes in for the clasp on my bra at the same time my fingers fumble with the button on her jeans, but it’s too difficult of a task with her mouth on my neck.

“Take these off,” I rasp.

“I’m busy. If you want them off so badly, you can take them off.”

“I’m fucking trying.”

Her kisses turn into more, as she leaves little bites along my collarbone.

I’m worried about her leaving a mark, but I can’t deny that it would be kind of hot if she did.

Years of lifting boxes and unloading merchandise at my job comes in handy, as I reach behind the back of her legs and lift her. She has no choice but to wrap them around me, unless she’d rather fall backwards. I take advantage of it, carrying her to the edge of the bed and leaning until she does fall.

I really like my position above her. I’ve always assumed I was a bottom, because I’m always on my feet during the day. It just made more sense to take it easy when it came to my nighttime activities. It might have been part of my ex, Olivia’s problem with me. She always called me her ‘pillow princess,’ as if it were an affectionate nickname, but her tone seemed a little snarky sometimes.

The woman beneath me lifts her hips and raises her brows, and I don’t need the reminder that I should get out of my head and back to the point.

It’s much easier to do when her mouth is down there, and mine is up here. She pulls her shirt off, smacking me in the head in the process. No apology, obviously.

I ignore it and successfully unbutton her pants, yanking them off with very little patience. She is so fucking flawless, it takes my breath away. The room is dark, and her body is only visible by the moonlight coming in from the window. It must be a full one, because I see every line of her seriously chiseled abs. She’s wearing black lace panties, and that just feels soher.I don’t even need to know her any better to get a feel for how appropriate they are for her as a person.

“Stop gawking,” she sneers.

“What would you rather I do instead?”