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jenny
?. . .?
Something happenedbetween the hottest shower of my life and now. Eaton is off, and I don’t know why. I have my suspicions because I’ve seen this before. Daniel said he was fine with my unique sexual cravings, but when he realized it wasn’t something he could just give me on my birthday and holidays, it became an issue.
God, I’m so stupid. How many times have I ignored that voice telling me this isn’t real? And how many times do I have to learn the same damn lesson? If I were in a horror movie, I’d be the dumb ass running up the stairs instead of out the front door.
After I got a double facial, Eaton used a scoop of the combined cum and his fingers to bring me to another mind-blowing orgasm. Then he reverently cleaned me up, even going so far as to wash my hair and body. It was such a sweet gesture that made me feel cherished.
It wasn’t until after he dried me off and handed me one of his T-shirts to wear to bed that I realized he hadn’t said a word to me since he spooged on my face. We’ve known each other long enough for me to realize that the man likes to talk, even if it’s only about his feelings for me.
Stepping out of the bathroom after brushing my teeth with my Sonicare that was placed on the vanity next to Eaton’s, I decide to do the grown-up thing and talk to him. I find him already in bed, lying on his back. The covers are drawn up to his hips, his furry chest is on display, and his gaze is fixed on the ceiling.
I climb in and flip off the lamp. He pulls me to him and wraps a possessive arm around me. Maybe I was overreacting and he’s just tired. It has been a very eventful few days.
“Sleepy?” I ask, threading my fingers through the rug on his chest.
“Not really.”
Well, okay then. “Are you going back to work tomorrow?”
“Yeah.”
“Cool. I have work to do too, but for once, I’m excited because I don’t have to wait until late at night when the kitchen has open spots,” I say, hoping to get some engagement because he was so excited to show me what he’d done for me, but his only response is a noncommittal hum. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No. Why?”
“Did you not like what we did in the shower? Did I offend you somehow?” I ask, and this time, I don’t even get a hum; I get silence. “Eaton?”
“What?”
“I asked you a question.”
He releases me to roll over. . . away from me. “I guess I am tired. Good night.”
“Oh, okay. Yeah, me too.” I turn to face the opposite way, drawing the blankets up and over my shoulders.
His switch in attitude was so abrupt, and my feelings are definitely hurt. I wasn’t the one who asked to be here; I was perfectly fine just dating the man. He’s the one who steamrolled into my life and basically forced me to move in, and I would’ve fought harder had I known this was how he’d behave.
I lie awake, my annoyance growing, until his breathing evens out and I’m certain he’s asleep. This isn’t what he promised me when he talked me into staying, and I made a vow to myself that after Daniel and I split, I wouldn’t stay in a relationship where I was the only enthusiastic partner. I don’t know what happened, but if he’s not willing to even talk to me about it, then that doesn’t bode well for our future.
Well, I’m not waiting around for some long, drawn-out break-up to occur. No, I’m getting out now. Climbing out of the biggest and most comfortable bed I’ve ever been in, I head straight for the closet, shutting the door before flipping on the light so as to not wake Eaton. I find my luggage and open the first one up, pulling clothes off the hangers and tossing them in—there’s no time for organization. After the hanging clothes, I move to the drawers of the dresser, pulling my underwear and bras out by the fistful and tossing them in the suitcase.
I stuff my two suitcases and decide I’ll either come back for the rest or have Eaton ship it to me. This had to have been the shortest time in the history of forever that a couple have moved in together. I wonder if there’s a Guinness World Record for that? If I at least got an award of some sort, it might make all this hurt less.
Rolling the luggage out of the room, I take them down the stairs, one at a time, trying my hardest to be silent as a mouse. Except I’m not exactly graceful, so the suitcase hits the railing more than once. Each time it does I freeze, listening for any sound, but hear nothing. Once both suitcases are downstairs, I open the front door and step outside. It’s only when a breeze catches and air hits places it doesn’t normally that I look down and realize I’m still in Eaton’s shirt and that’s it. I don’t even have shoes on.
“Too late now,” I mutter, stepping off the porch. The tender soles of my feet hit gravel, and I wince as I try and roll my crappy suitcases across the rock while also trying not to cry from the pain.
I’ll give myself credit, once I set my mind to something, I commit and get it done no matter what I have to put myself through. When I reach my car, I realize something else—I don’t have keys. Using my most colorful language, I hobble back to the house and sneak inside to find my purse.
It’s right where I left it in the kitchen. As I dig through to find my car key, my eyes catch on my phone, and I remember Eaton taking a call for me. We got so caught up in shower sex that I forgot to ask who it was. Clicking into my call log, I see it was Daniel who called. Did Daniel say something to Eaton that made him change his mind about me?
Not caring about the time, I click on Daniel’s number. It rings four times before he answers.
“Do you have any idea how late it is, Jenny?”
“What did you say to him?”
