Page 18 of Sour Notes

At least, it was hot as fuck… until he made it weird by asking me on a date while I was literally bouncing on his cock. I still don’t understand what the hell that was about.

My guy has never dated.

Ne-ver.

I’ve run into way more of his one-night stands over the years than I’ve had hot dinners.

It’s not his nature to be monogamous and that’s fine, I’ve never judged him for it.

I know messing with our status quo and agreeing to a date with him would’ve been the worst idea, but refusing made things hella awkward. It’s left our friendship strained as shit.

I’ve spent most of my time staying with the girls or locked away in my bedroom to avoid awkward conversations I really can’t bear to have when he’s home.

Now this?

Who fucks someone pretending to be a stranger?

Who willingly fucks a stranger?

Apparently, this girl.

And I’ve fallen on his dick not once but twice now.

Good job, Mia.

One wild night between strangers, my ass. Wild for me—something else entirely for him.

Now I just feel cheap, violated even.

Glancing at the time on my phone, I jump up from the bed. He’ll be home any minute.

God, I hope he gets called into work tomorrow. I really don’t have the bandwidth to see him, knowing I had his cock inside me less than twenty-four hours ago.

Running toward the kitchen, I jerk open the junk drawer, grabbing our stack of Post-its and a pen to leave this fucker a note.

Don’t you dare knock.

I don’t want to see you.

I don’t want your bullshit explanation.

Leave me the fuck alone.

I slap the square on my bedroom door—the neon yellow looking a lot brighter than my mood—before slamming and locking it.

A chime wakes me from the worst night’s sleep ever. If it’s a message from Swayze, I’m gonna throw my phone at our shared bedroom wall so he hears it.

Ok, maybe that’s a bit much. I’ll throw something I don’t need instead. Like that empty perfume bottle I haven’t thrown out yet.

That’ll do.

He’ll know to stay well away since I woke up and chose violence today.

Mom

Don’t forget the date with Silvia’s son tonight. Don’t wear yoga pants.

Oh God.