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Fuck it. If I were him, I’d kill me, too.
Evie laughs again at the undoubted expression of horror painted on my face that’s probably fifty shades of white. “I’ll go help him while you get this,” she gestures at my tent, “situation under control.”
“How am I supposed to get upstairs to the bathroom without running into anyone else?” Damn my giant horse dick. Unless I use the throw pillow under my head as a cover, anyone who sees me is bound to notice my “situation.”
“Papou is always the first one up in the morning. I’m sure you won’t run into anyone else for at least another hour.” She pats my leg a little too close to where my dick is straining against my sweatpants, a wicked smile spreading across her lips. “Up and at ‘em, Superjock. The clock’s ticking.”
Completely disregarding my level of alarm, Evie climbs off me without a care in the world, ambling into the kitchen with a cheery, “Kali mera, Papou.”
Good morning, my ass. This has disaster written all over it.
I have two options. I can sneak out as previously planned—and disappoint my girlfriend—or I can do what Evie suggested and pretend nothing happened.
No, wait. I’ve got it. I’ll run a combo play.
I’ll sneak out, wait out Papou and YiaYia’s anger, then come back under the guise that I needed to get Evie’s gift from my house.
Everyone wins, and I stay alive.
It’s perfect.
Until it isn’t.
The Lady is in the garage here, true. But I have no idea where Evie put the keys. My boots are in the back mud room, which is only accessible through the kitchen. Where Papou and Evie are supposedly cooking.
Maybe I can make a dash for the bathroom and just stay in there until everyone forgets I’m here.
That won’t work either. There’s only one bathroom in this old house, and people will notice if it’s occupied for a couple of hours.
Shit, shit, shit. I’m running out of time, and all my options suck.
Why is this more stressful than being in the pocket in my first bowl game appearance?
Okay, deep breath. Time to regain control of the situation. First up, mindset. A solid mental outlook is key.
I am a twenty-year-old man in a committed relationship with my girlfriend for over two years. Her family loves me. They treat me like I’m one of their own. It’s not like I’m some punk-ass kid off the street, only looking to deflower their oldest daughter.
Nothing happened they can be angry about.
Well, almost nothing, thanks to a poorly placed kitchen sink.
So, we fell asleep together on the couch watching movies? Who cares? Everyone knew I drove all night to get here. It’s not like they can fault me for my exhaustion. I didn’t know Evie would fall asleep on top of me. I certainly didn’t plan it that way.
If they wanted her to move, they could have woken her up and made her go to her own bed, right?
Right.
Okay, next up. The morning wood situation. I’m kind of surprised all my panic hasn’t deflated the damn thing, but after last night’s near miss, my balls are in some serious pain. The thought of having to make it an entire week before I can get some release reignites my rapid heartbeat, so I do what I probably shouldn’t.
I imagine a half-naked, bloody Evie. That always does the trick.
Hey, if I’m gonna be saddled with that burden, might as well make it work for me.
And it does. Somewhat.
Enough that I suck it up, peel myself off the couch, and practically crawl up the stairs. Fuck, I’m sore this morning. Each agonizing step reduces my boner a little more. By the time I reach the bathroom, all I can think about is a hot shower, a couple Advil, and more sleep.
