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Flynn
We rideback home in silence. Neither of us needs to talk to know that we both feel like shit. That did not go how I thought it would and I doubt how Roman thought it would either.
“We can go back tomorrow. Apologize and explain ourselves better.” I say.
“Fuck, Flynn. I feel like shit. We hurt her.” Roman says.
“I know. That’s why we have to go back. If we can just get her to hear us out. Explain how much she means to us and that it’s not just one night we want her for. That we were just trying to ease her into the idea of being with both of us. She’ll understand then.” I reason.
I don’t know who I’m trying to convince, Roman or myself. We both know that our Kitten can be stubborn.
“Maybe we should just help her.” Roman says.
“Well, obviously we’re going to help her.”
“No, I mean let’s just give her the money. She doesn’t need to be with us. We can’t make her love us.”
“I love her.” I say as I stare out the window.
“I know. I do too, but we hurt her today and that’s not how you show people that you love them.”
“You’re right. Maybe when she learns that we paid for the surgery, she’ll forgive us and give us another chance.” I say hopefully.
Roman doesn’t answer me and I know that he’s thinking that we blew it today. I hope like hell that he’s wrong.
The car pulls up outside our home and we both get out, thanking Jack as we go. We head inside and Roman walks upstairs to his room. He comes down a couple of minutes later, wearing gym clothes. He’s been working out more than ever since we met Aspen. I don’t blame him. I’ve been running more in the last month than ever before too. Have to burn off all the excess sexual energy somehow.
Roman passes me and walks to the back of the house where the home gym is.
“I’m going to go for a run.” I call to his back and he gives me a chin tip before closing the door behind him. A second later, loud rock music starts blaring.
I throw the coffee cups in the trash before I head up to my room to change. I slip on some running shorts and a t-shirt before I slip on my running shoes, lacing them up tight. I grab my phone and headphones and stretch before heading back downstairs and out the door.
I run my usual four miles before I head back home, walking the last two blocks. I was hoping that my run would help clear my thoughts and get Aspen out of my head for a little bit but it hasn’t worked.
I walk in the front door to see Roman in the kitchen, chugging a protein shake. He hands me the glass that he made for me and I take it gratefully.
“Did it help?” He asks.
“Not even a little bit.” I say as I take the stairs two at a time to go jerk off and shower.
