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“Challenge accepted,” I whisper a second before my lips land on hers.
SEVEN
Mira
When I first open myeyes, I’m so confused. This isn’t my apartment, and why am I so warm? Then I feel Townes’ arms tighten around me and last night comes rushing back to me.
He had made love to me twice before we finally left bed and went downstairs to eat. It was midnight by the time the spaghetti was ready, and we had laughed and talked while we ate, then headed right back up to bed to make love again.
I must have passed out after that. It’s bright outside, and I wonder what time it is as I try to wiggle my way out from beneath Townes’ arms.
“Where are you going?” He mumbles sleepily, and I look over my shoulder to see his eyes still closed.
“To the bathroom,” I whisper, and he grumbles but lets me go.
I scoot off the bed and head into the bathroom. It feels so strange to walk around naked like this. My body is sore, and I notice a few bruises and red marks from his hands and mouth on my hips and breasts.
I go to the bathroom and study my reflection as I wash my hands. I guess I thought that I would feel different after I had lost my virginity, but I still feel like me. I run my fingers through my brown hair, trying to untangle some of the knots.
I head back to the bedroom where Townes is sitting in bed. He smiles when he sees me and crooks a finger at me, silently telling me to come back to bed.
“I need to get home,” I tell him as I head back towards him.
“It’s still early,” he argues.
“It’s almost nine,” I say with a laugh.
He glares at the alarm clock on his bedside table, and I wrap my arms around his neck.
“I really do need to go. I have a long to-do list today.”
“Alright. Will I see you tonight? I can make us dinner again.”
“Maybe. Let me see how today goes.”
He looks like he wants to argue with me, to demand an answer right here and now, but he bites his tongue and leans forward and kisses me instead.
I pull back before he can deepen it, and he growls, trying to pull me back towards him.
“The faster I leave and get everything done, the faster I can come back,” I remind him, and he sighs but lets me go.
“Fine. Go do what you have to. Or better yet, you could let me come and help,” he offers.
“Don’t you have work?”
“Probably,” he admits, and I laugh.
“Go do that. I’ll see you later.”
I grab the dress from last night that we never managed to wash off his dresser, but he stops me.
“You can borrow something from me.”
“It’s fine. I’m just going home, and then I’ll change there.”
“Here,” he says like I didn’t say anything. “You can wear this.”
He passes me a shirt and sweatpants, and part of me wants to argue with him, but what does it matter in the end?
