At his apartment, we watched a movie. I couldn’t concentrate. My feet were in his lap, his hands on my calves, lingering and stroking.
“I want you to go shopping,” he said.
I looked at him to show I was listening.
“I have a friend. She’ll go with you. Show you what to buy.”
So there was someone. And there was something I wasn’t doing right. A change he wanted. It felt so soon, but right then it became clear that sweetness had no place here.
I said okay and looked back at the television. I didn’t want him to read my face, but it was probably too late.
“Lie down on the floor in front of me. On your stomach,” he said.
Slowly, I did as I was told, but still wouldn’t look at him.
He flattened his body out on top of mine, his arm under my breasts. The weight of him forced the tension from my body.
I wanted to put up a fight, to not be so easy, but I wanted him more.
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