AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Sort of.”
“But you liked him anyway?”
“Yes.”
“Maybe call him and tell him you’re sorry.”
“Sorry for liking him?” I laughed.
“Sorry for breaking his rules,” she said. “You taught me that, remember? People have rules, and if you break them, then you need to say sorry.”
I nodded. I had a lot of rules, especially when I was in Dom mode. Minty had held up his end of the bargain until I messed things up. I supposed itwastime to call again, and if he didn’t answer, I’d have to stop by.
Even if he didn’t want to continue with me, I still wanted to make things right. I needed to admit it’d been me who screwed upand ask for his forgiveness.
“You’re right. I’m going to do that.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow.”
“I’m glad. Now, will you come inside and meet Rodney’s little turtle? His name is Toots, and we have a toy racetrack he walks around.”
“Sure,” I said, crumpling up all the trash and shoving it into the bag I’d brought. “I’d love to meet Toots.”
***
Minty
I squeezed myeyes shut harder against the knocking on my dorm room door, hoping that whoever it was—was it Kyle again? Back to finish the job?—would just go away.
“Minty! It’s me!”
Oh, fuck. It was the other horrible alternative. Luke. He was here, and now I’d have to tell him, and he’ll know, not just suspect… And I’ll have to explain why I didn’t answer the phone and instead let him leave twelve worried messages on my answering machine.
“Mitchell? Are you in there? Open the door.”
That voice. Using that name.
As always, I was helpless to resist it, and I stood on shaky legs to shuffle to the door. I unlocked but didn’t open it, calling weakly, “Come on in,” as I headed back to my bed and mostly covered myself in the blankets.
I wore just a pair of briefs and the stench of sweat caused by anxiety and fear and lack of showering. I was disgusting. This was the last way I wanted Luke to see me for the last time. I’d really been hoping he’d just drop me altogether, and I’d never have to worry about seeing him again. I didn’t want to face him.
“Minty?” Luke’s voice was low and tender as he shut the door behind him and stepped cautiously through the shaded and shadowed room and over to my bed. “Are you all right? Are you sick?”
The fear in his tone reminded me that ofcoursehe might come to that conclusion, given our shared status.
“I’ve been worried about you,” he said, grabbing a chair and dragging it over to the bed, sitting on it and peering at where my head poked through the sheets. “At first I thought you’d just bailed on me because I—”
He cleared his throat. “And maybe you did, because maybe—”
“Luke,” I said. I hadn’t really spoken in several days, and my voice was all grated and horrible sounding. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not sick?”
I shook my head.
“So, I did drive you off?”
