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I’m sure Dario’s clean, and out of everything I have to worry about, an STD isn’t at the top of my list. To ease some of my stress, I pull my phone out and send him a message.
Eden: Are you clean, or should I get checked out?
Not even a minute later, my phone vibrates.
Dario: I’m clean. Are you on birth control?
Eden: Yes.
Dario: I’ll make sure to carry condoms for the next time.
A chuckle escapes me.
Eden: You assume there will be a next time.
Dario: You blew my mind. There will definitely be a second…third…fourth…fifth…etc.
Eden: It all depends on how the date goes.
Dario: Then I’ll just have to impress you.
After messaging Dario, I feel a little better, and while I do my work, I keep replaying the night over and over in my mind.
The sex was hot and emotional, which is something I haven’t experienced before. I’m used to quick fucks with men who don’t care whether I orgasm.
Jesus, Dario didn’t even have to try. Just having him inside me was enough to make me come.
I can still feel his hands roaming my body. I can still taste him. I can still smell his scent on me.
And now I’m getting hot and bothered again.
With a smile playing around my mouth, I keep thinking about Dario until I’m done with my work. After putting away the cleaning cart and equipment, I go to the locker room, where I take off the apron and cap.
I check my locker for my bag only to remember it was stolen.
Shit.
My apartment’s keys were in the bag.
I slam the locker shut, and as I walk to the exit, I realize I don’t have money for the subway.
Feeling miserable, I stop by Quincy’s desk and say, “I hate asking, but can I borrow ten dollars? I’ll pay you back tonight.”
“Sure.” He digs the bill out of his wallet, and I take it with a grateful smile.
“Be careful on your way home.” He says the same thing every morning because the streets aren’t the safest at two am.
“I will,” I reply, shooting him a smile. “Thanks for the money.” I walk to the side door and wait for Quincy to buzz me out.
A blast of chilly air slaps me right in the face, and I huddle into my coat as I walk in the direction of the subway.
Now that I’ve left work, the bubble I was caught in pops, and I realize how stupid I was to have sex with Dario. I’m not so sure going on a date with him will be a good idea.
What if he wants more, and things get serious between us? What if he finds out I’m nothing but a poor girl from the wrong side of the city?
I seriously doubt he’s going to want to keep seeing me. Things like that only happen in the movies.
But maybe…?
