Page 152 of Mine Forever


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“Well, I didn’t.” I sighed and flopped down on the couch, right on top of Angela’s feet. We tussled and laughed for a moment as she tucked her legs underneath her body.

“What happened? Why not?”

I shrugged. “He said I had too much wine. He said he wanted me to be more sober for the first time we had sex.”

Angela raised her eyebrows. “Wow, a gentleman,” she said. “You don’t really see those around anymore.”

“We made out in his car again,” I explained. “It was so hot.” I shivered. “It hurts, you know,” I added, blushing and making a quick gesture towards my crotch.

Angela hooted with laughter. “It’s like a female version of blue balls,” she said. She snickered with laughter. “I know. It does hurt. But it’ll go away.” She smirked. “Unless you want…to help yourself.”

“Oh, my god, ew, no!”

Angela shrieked with laughter. “Oh, June,” she said affectionately. “My little prude. Don’t ever change,” she added.

I glared at her. “Ha, ha,” I said sarcastically.

“So, I take it you had a good time?”

I sighed with happiness and flopped against the back of the couch. “It was the best night of my life,” I said dramatically. “He ordered so much wine, and seriously every tapa on the menu. I’m stuffed. Everything was so nice.”

“I bet,” Angela said. She yawned. “I’ve been trying to have a quiet night.”

I frowned. “What happened?” I glanced around. Our apartment, though not the greatest, wasn’t plagued with some of the common problems in New York City. We rarely had rats, and we weren’t close enough to the subway for it to be too loud…which was both a blessing and a curse, as I’d come to discover over freezing winter mornings of running to work.

“Someone sent up a bunch of messages,” Angela said in a neutral tone. “I assumed they were from Thomas, until I realized that you were already out with him.”

I blushed. “Maybe he did them for me to find when I got back? That kind of seems like something he’d do.”

Angela shook her head and gave me a wary look. “I wouldn’t get too excited,” she said. “They’re not flowers, if that’s what you’re asking.”

I frowned. Angela pointed to a bunch of small manila envelopes by the door.

“Whoever it was, actually used a courier service,” she said, turning her attention back down to her book and yawning once more. “I didn’t actually know that those were still around.”

“Oh, yeah,” I said. “Weird.”

Angela was clearly finished talking, so I took the envelopes and dumped them in my room, on my bed. Then I went into the bathroom and washed my face, taking a long, hot shower. I couldn’t even touch my own body without thinking of Thomas’s huge, sensual hands…and suddenly, I wished that he were inside that cramped stall with me, covered in soap and water and making love to me until I was blind with passion.

When I was sick of standing in the tepid water, I wrapped myself in a big fluffy towel and braided my hair. The messages were still waiting for me on my bed when I got back to my room, and I sat down, crossed my legs, and opened the first envelope.

“June – where are you? Call me. Andy.”

My stomach twisted into a knot and I frowned, tossing the note away. A slight pang of guilt hit me in the chest and I swallowed, trying to make it disappear.

“June – where the fuck did you go? We had a date, remember?”

“That’s not very nice,” I said under my breath, balling the message up and tossing it away. My slight feeling of sympathy for Andy vanished. What a jerk, I thought as my trembling fingers opened the third message. Thomas would never speak to me like that.

“June – are you fucking with me? Why the fuck would you do something like this? Are you a bitch? Are you trying to fuck with me?”

The bad feeling returned with alarming speed, but this time it wasn’t guilt. This time, I felt nothing more than shame and fear.

“Angela,” I called in a trembling voice.

Seconds later, Angela was standing at the door.

“June, what’s going on? What’s wrong?”

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