Page 76 of Trailer Trash

A tear rolls down her smooth cheek and I barely hear her say: “I knew this part would hurt the most.”

I can’t breathe. I open the fucking door and practically run to the car.

I don’t look back. I can’t.

The entire drive to downtown is awkward, like I’m uncomfortable in my own skin.

I don’t want her. Nope. I don’t want her anymore. This obsession is dead.

Who was the guy that she went to lunch with? She never mentioned a lunch buddy. He probably doesn’t even know about cars. Not that I do. She needs a new car, anyway, not just a transmission. She looked so cute standing there all stupid and anxious.

She’s obviously attached to me. Fucking her again will make it worse.

I want to fuck her again.

I didn’t want to leave.

That’s why I chose her place, though. So I could leave — not her.

I need to see Asher.

When I get to my car still sitting in a now mostly empty parking lot, everything looks different in the daylight. The restaurant is abandoned. The club across the street appears smaller and quiet. No lines or lights. No thumping bass carrying into the streets. The floors inside are probably sticky with dried foam waiting to be mopped up. I can still feel the wet puffs raining down and hitting my neck as I kissed Harlow. Her soft, curvy body pressed to mine. And that ass — the same one I got to watch bounce as I fucked her from behind…

She could quit her day job and just film that for the world.

But last night, it was only me who got to see her naked. The way she shook and came undone under my tongue. The way she felt squeezing my cock. Her little whimpers. Her cries.

It’s not a big deal. I’ve fucked other women. She isn’t special. Just her ass.

Forget Harlow.

I drop into the driver’s seat, slam the car door shut, then text.

Me: I slept with that girl finally

Asher: good job, man. Her snatch good?

Me: hell yeah

I delete the last text. Retype.

Me: it was alright.

Send.

Asher: U liar

I laugh. He knows me so well.

Me: It was too good.

Asher: Keep her.

Me: She won’t stay.

Me: U didn’t.

Asher types. I watch the chat bubble. It starts and stops several times.