Page 13 of Sour Notes

Walking up behind her, all I had was a half-baked dumbass idea to get her to acknowledge me. Pure instinct had me caging her to that railing, hoping in the cover of darkness I’d have more luck getting her to talk to me about what happened in that restroom all those months ago.

Hell, we haven’t properly spoken since then about anything.

And god do I miss her.

The gaping hole she’s left in my life is a living, breathing thing inside me at this point, but I sure as shit didn’t plan on pounding her hole tonight.

I never dreamed she’d want a total stranger to fuck her out in the open where anyone could see. There was no way in hell I could’ve seen that coming.

I’m sorry, I’m spiraling here.

The headache that’s been flirting with me all day moved right in, hammering at my temples thanks to the emotional rollercoaster I’ve been strapped into.

I’ve gone from riding the highest high, having her in my arms once more to feeling like the worst scumbag ever to walk the earth.

My stomach clenches so tight I can barely breathe and a cold bead of sweat trickles down my neck.

How could I have fucked everything up so spectacularly?

Flexing my hands to release some of the tension tightening my shoulders, I scan the room again in case I somehow missed her walking back inside.

I need to talk to her.

Why the fuck did I walk away in the first place?

Because you were too chickenshit to risk her seeing your face.

God, I’m not sure I could survive it if she looked at me in disappointment, or worse… horror.

That would decimate what’s left of my heart. The one that only beats for her.

Tough shit, my guy. You gotta pay the piper.

I’m gonna have to man up and tell her it was me.

Beg her forgiveness.

On my knees if I have to.

I hate her not knowing. I’ve essentially lied to her.

But fuck, the way her body melted against me. Like she trusted me without even seeing my face.

For a minute, I let myself believe that maybe her body remembered how good we are together. That some small part of her knew it was me.

It wrecked me.

But that’s just a selfish fucking fantasy.

She thought I was a stranger, and I let her.

I crossed a line tonight. A big one.

It doesn’t matter that she was the one who pulled my hand down to her bare pussy.

It doesn’t matter that she was the one who asked me to fuck her. I could have been anyone, but would she have done it knowing it was me?

Doubtful.