all of my clothes are on the floor and I am pulling at Evan’s pants, urging him to go further. Within a few short moments, we are twisting and turning beneath my cotton sheets. Evan pulls a condom from his wallet and hands it to me with a playful grin.
“I’m terrible with these things. Will you help me?” He looks so innocent in this moment, so sweet. Could he be the one? Could he be my soul mate?
I rip the foil package open and carefully roll the condom onto Evan. He groans and pushes me forward onto the bed with a sudden urgency. He enters me and I slowly become lost in his embrace, lost in the beautiful rhythm that our bodies are creating. His movements are fluid, sexy, tantalizing. My skin tingles with every touch of his hands, every twist of his hips and every kiss he plants on my lips.
The next morning, my room is spinning. I wish I could say that I have no memory of what happened last night, but that would be a blatant lie. I know he’s still here; I can hear him breathing softly just a few inches away. Tears begin to pour from my eyes. What have I done? Somehow, in my drunken state, I thought that Evan was the dark haired man that Kim had predicted. But, deep within my soul, I know this isn’t right. Staring at him as he sleeps, I know I feel nothing for Evan, absolutely no spark, no emotion, nothing . It was simply a mixture of alcohol, desire and very bad decisions that led me to having this man in my bed.
Mayson promised to call today and I’ll have to decide whether or not to share what I’ve done. But, how can I possibly do that? How can I hurt him more than I already have? I will, most certainly, lose him if he knows about my drunken fling with Evan. The thought of that makes my stomach flip uncontrollably and I feel as if I’m about to vomit.
Running to the bathroom, I grasp the toilet seat, pushing it away from myself as I heave uncontrollably. Regret spills from my eyes with my tears. Sobbing into the toilet I can think of nothing but Mayson. Eventually I’m able to catch my breath.
After brushing my teeth, I sit back down on the bathroom floor, not wanting to go back to my room. I’m sure Evan is awake by now and I’m mortified; I don’t want to confront my drunken mistake. Pressing the back of my head against the wall, I look up at the ceiling, wishing for a way out of all of this. How had I allowed things to become such an inconceivable mess?
A soft knock on the door startles me. “Daphne, are you okay? Can I get you anything?” he asks on the other side of the door. I reach up to open the door slightly and Evan peeks in. He’s dressed in his clothes from last night and the tone of his voice tells me he’s worried.
“Hey,” he says softly. His face looks just as handsome as it did last night. If only that was enough.
“I’m so sorry,” I reply, tears forming in my eyes.
Evan steps in and sits down next to me, putting his head against the wall. He turns towards me and gently pushes the bangs from my eyes. I feel genuine warmth coming from his deep brown irises.
“You have nothing to be sorry for, Daphne. If anything, I should be the one who’s apologizing. You were drunk last night, clearly,” he says gesturing towards the toilet.
I can’t help but giggle at his ability to find humor in this situation. He continues as he pats my knee lightly with his hand, “I feel like maybe I messed up my chances with you and that really sucks. You’re such a great girl and I’ve liked you for a while.”
“It’s not you, Evan. I’m just really confused right now.”
“I hear you,” he says gently. His eyes skim over my body from head to toe, as he continues, “Aside from all of the emotional stuff, how are you feeling physically? I always drink a can of coke for a hangover because it settles the stomach. Toast helps, too. Can I make you some toast?”
Evan is attempting to take
“I’m terrible with these things. Will you help me?” He looks so innocent in this moment, so sweet. Could he be the one? Could he be my soul mate?
I rip the foil package open and carefully roll the condom onto Evan. He groans and pushes me forward onto the bed with a sudden urgency. He enters me and I slowly become lost in his embrace, lost in the beautiful rhythm that our bodies are creating. His movements are fluid, sexy, tantalizing. My skin tingles with every touch of his hands, every twist of his hips and every kiss he plants on my lips.
The next morning, my room is spinning. I wish I could say that I have no memory of what happened last night, but that would be a blatant lie. I know he’s still here; I can hear him breathing softly just a few inches away. Tears begin to pour from my eyes. What have I done? Somehow, in my drunken state, I thought that Evan was the dark haired man that Kim had predicted. But, deep within my soul, I know this isn’t right. Staring at him as he sleeps, I know I feel nothing for Evan, absolutely no spark, no emotion, nothing . It was simply a mixture of alcohol, desire and very bad decisions that led me to having this man in my bed.
Mayson promised to call today and I’ll have to decide whether or not to share what I’ve done. But, how can I possibly do that? How can I hurt him more than I already have? I will, most certainly, lose him if he knows about my drunken fling with Evan. The thought of that makes my stomach flip uncontrollably and I feel as if I’m about to vomit.
Running to the bathroom, I grasp the toilet seat, pushing it away from myself as I heave uncontrollably. Regret spills from my eyes with my tears. Sobbing into the toilet I can think of nothing but Mayson. Eventually I’m able to catch my breath.
After brushing my teeth, I sit back down on the bathroom floor, not wanting to go back to my room. I’m sure Evan is awake by now and I’m mortified; I don’t want to confront my drunken mistake. Pressing the back of my head against the wall, I look up at the ceiling, wishing for a way out of all of this. How had I allowed things to become such an inconceivable mess?
A soft knock on the door startles me. “Daphne, are you okay? Can I get you anything?” he asks on the other side of the door. I reach up to open the door slightly and Evan peeks in. He’s dressed in his clothes from last night and the tone of his voice tells me he’s worried.
“Hey,” he says softly. His face looks just as handsome as it did last night. If only that was enough.
“I’m so sorry,” I reply, tears forming in my eyes.
Evan steps in and sits down next to me, putting his head against the wall. He turns towards me and gently pushes the bangs from my eyes. I feel genuine warmth coming from his deep brown irises.
“You have nothing to be sorry for, Daphne. If anything, I should be the one who’s apologizing. You were drunk last night, clearly,” he says gesturing towards the toilet.
I can’t help but giggle at his ability to find humor in this situation. He continues as he pats my knee lightly with his hand, “I feel like maybe I messed up my chances with you and that really sucks. You’re such a great girl and I’ve liked you for a while.”
“It’s not you, Evan. I’m just really confused right now.”
“I hear you,” he says gently. His eyes skim over my body from head to toe, as he continues, “Aside from all of the emotional stuff, how are you feeling physically? I always drink a can of coke for a hangover because it settles the stomach. Toast helps, too. Can I make you some toast?”
Evan is attempting to take