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This was a bad idea, a terrible idea even, he was a terrible idea. I couldn’t get the thought out of my mind, the feeling.
I awoke that night, sticky with sweat and head foggy with lust. Judgement skewed and thighs shaking. It felt so real, the dream. Ironic what would inevitably bring me back to him is a dream. But I couldn't stop thinking about it, even as I unblocked his number, and stared for an agonising amount of time at the bright green call button, the dream seemed to be imprinted on my eyelids, flashing through my mind in blushes of pink.
Our bodies were tangled together, sweat and saliva combining in a sweet syrup. His hands were everywhere, calloused fingers teasing over my body, searching for the small whines that would escape from my own desperate lips.
His mouth attached at my neck, biting his way to red and purple splotches of his claim. Tongue tracing over collar bones and teeth scraping over marks. Moans filtered through the air, sin and sex clogging the atmosphere in its scent. Dirty words whispered from too hot mouths that dripped in lust and lewd passion. It was bad, it was wrong, it was perfect.
My finger presses the call button before I can stop myself.
As the first ring tone catches my ears, I recoil. Butterflies that filtered through my stomach turn to moths in an instant, killing the dumb sensation filtering through me. I shake my head, trying to clear my consciences of stupid ideas.
I hang up, before he can answer.
A sigh of relief escapes my lips. Stupid that was fucking stupid, why the fuck did I try to call him over a dumb dream that probably meant nothing but my own horniness. He doesn't deserve me, I chant to myself, not after what he did.
Not after he betrayed me so deliberately. He’s a liar, a manipulator… a cheater. He’s no good, no good for me.
It doesn't stop me from missing those moments even though it should, It doesn’t stop me from crying over the dishonesty and mental fucking I endure every few nights. He doesn’t deserve the satisfaction of my pain or longing that goes unbeknownst to him.
I’m startled out of my thoughts by my phone's ringtone playing.
Picking it up, I quickly gaze at the Caller ID and see it’s a contactless number. It looks strangely familiar, butterflies have appeared again as I anxiously accept the call.
“Hello?” I question into the speaker. My breathing picks up as I wait for a response.
“Why did you call me at 2am?” he speaks, voice rough from exhaustion.
My breath catches when I hear his voice, all common sense leaving my mind as I grasp for words to say, to explain.
How am I supposed to explain why I called him at 2am after months and months of blocked numbers and heartbreak. How do I explain I dreamed of his big hands taking care of me in the lewdest ways imaginable. How do I explain the torment, the pain, the feeling of unwantedness after what he did. How do I tell him I just couldn't help myself, that I just needed him so badly.
How do i-
“Hello? Are you there?” his voice speaks again, annoyance clear but a hint of worry travelling through his voice.
“H-hi Clay,” I choke out hurriedly, not wanting to keep him waiting for my reply any longer.
He doesn't reply in a silent way of telling me to continue, but I can’t seem to find the words to do that.
“I wasn’t gon- you weren’t meant to call me back”, I supply weakly. It was mostly the truth but his scoff shows that he knows there’s more to it.
“I mean I could leave if you’d like,” he responds. Anger shoots through me, at the soft tone he’s using.
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” I quip back in red.
He makes a sound in disbelief, “Oh c’mon, I know you didn’t just call me randomly in the middle of the night after months of no contact, just to take digs at me.”
I roll my eyes silently at his cocky attitude, “I mean you’d definitely deserve it.”
“Yeah, okay,” he scoffs, “Why’d you actually call me?”
I stop for a moment weighing the options of what I could say.
“I was thinking about you,” is what comes out, I can practically hear the eye roll from the other side of the call, I start to back track, “Not in like a ‘I missed you way’, thatd be stupid, It was just because…” I trail off there not knowing how to explain.
“It was just because what?” he replies not missing a beat.
“I had-”, but I stop myself, “It’s probably a bad idea if I tell you.”
“Probably”, he agrees, “Doesn't mean I don't want to know.”
I don’t know how I could tell him, not like this at least. My brain supplies me with all the reasons why telling him is a bad idea. I curse my horny lonely brain.
I miss him.
I don't need him, the rational part of my brain reminds me, he left me, he doesn't want me, I’m over it.
Nobody wants me, the weaker side contradicts, blue ropes tugging me under. I’m pathetic, I need him, he’s the only one, he loved me once right… right?
I called him because I was horny, I remind myself. I was lonely and needy and was reminded how good his tongue felt lapping over my cu-
My face flushes as I realise my distraction, a small pulse forming between my legs; I shut the feeling down quickly.
I shouldnt have fucking called him. Yellow fog begins to settle in my veins as frustration takes over. I have to leave, or I’m definitely going to end up telling him.
“I can’t do this”, I reply, pulling the phone away from my ear, ready to hang up the call.
“Wait!” I hear an exasperated shout from the speaker. So I pull the phone back up to my ear with a sigh.
“What?” I question weakly, all the fight seeped out of me from the mental battle I’m enduring.
“I’m coming over to pick you up, be ready in 15.”
The tone tells me it’s not an option. I stutter over my words as I try to grasp for an excuse, “It's 2:30 in the fucking morning,” I counter.
“Don’t care,” he responds, hanging up before I can get another word in.
I pull the phone away from my face in disbelief, dropping it unceremoniously onto the bed sheets next to me. I groan in frustration, at myself for being so stupid, at Clay for being so fucking stubborn.
Sitting up, I slowly pull myself out of bed, feet thumping underneath me as I slump over to the lightswitch. My head throbs as the blinding lights blink alive in my room. I rub my eyes, fuzziness taking over my vision, disorientating me for a split second.
I glance in the mirror once my eyes have finally focussed and adjusted to the light. My appearance is startling, bags have formed under my eyes from the lack of sleep, and stress I've been maintaining for what feels like forever.
Deciding I don’t care too much, since Clay’s definitely seen me look worse. From all the screaming matches and breakdowns that occurred throughout our relationship, or those nights he would reduce me down to nothing and make me beg for his co-.
I need to snap out of it.
Shaking away the thoughts I just tidy my hair up, and throw on my biggest hoodie and pajama pants I could find. If I’m going to be talking to my ex I can at least be comfortable physically.
I wait in anxious anticipation for what feels like years but in reality can’t be more than a minute. My phone vibrates from the clutches of my hand.
Clay: I’m outside.
My heart rate picks up when the realisation that I’ll be seeing him again dawns on me. Hurriedly I grab the closest shoes I can find and my keys, making my way unceremoniously out of the front door.
His car is there. On my street. Infront of my house. I can see his silhouette through his car windows, face illuminated by his phone screen. He hasn’t noticed me yet.
I take a deep breath and begin to shuffle down the front steps towards him. Socked feet step on the cold concrete, walking on my toes with my shoes in hand.
I must look completely mad to anyone who would see me. Barefoot at what's nearly 3am, making my way towards a car my street has not seen in months. I can feel the judgement seep off the grass, its dewy scent overbearing at best.
As I get closer to the car, Clay looks up. I avoid his eyes lest he sees the sin through them. I watch his gaze follow my frame, a quick up and down glance. It's quick. But I notice. I seem to notice things I shouldn’t, things that will keep me up at night overthinking.
I really need to get out of my own head.
Awkwardly I make my way to the passenger's side. Before I tug open the door, I glance around me, as if someone is there silently judging me. I can’t help but feel ashamed as I climb into the car, sitting in a seat I swore I never wanted to lay my eyes on again. I intake a breath before looking over at him.
Same dirty blonde hair, messy with sleep and restlessness, his eyes are the same shade of sage green albeit they seem to sparkle under the moonlight. Same smile, same freckles, same face, same jawline.
He’s still the same as when I last saw him.
He’s watching me, amusement and playfulness dancing in his eyes, “Hi”.
“Hey,” I responded, uncertain on how to start this conversation.
He laughs lightly, before starting the car and pulling out onto the street in front of us.
“Where are are we going”
“Why did you call”
We spoke at the same time as the car pulls onto the nearly empty highway. I don’t answer his question, instead just give him a pointed look.
“Okay but you're telling me eventually,” he huffs out, I stay silent and wait for him to continue, he glances over at me and just smiles, “We aren't going anywhere I’m just driving, I know it used to help clear your thoughts.”
I frown, as I’m reminded of a simpler time, when he used to take care of me no matter what. I turn away from him, crossing my legs tilting towards my door.
He notices instantly and his brow furrows, “I-” but he stops.
“Why’d you want to go for a drive?” I question.
He seems to think for a moment as if he’s unsure of how to answer, “Maybe I was thinking about you too.”
I turn back towards him, lips parted in disbelief because surely he doesn't mean it, “I don’t believe that,” I shoot back. He doesn't reply but I wasn't expecting him to.
I had been so distracted by the surrealness of being in the car with him, I only just noticed how we slowed down.
We had pulled into a parking lot, even through the shadows of the night you could tell there was no one else there. The only sign of life was our breathing filtering through the air.
“Is this the part where you murder me?” I tease lightly.
He wheezes loudly at that, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
His laugh fills me like helium, and I can't help but join in and laugh with him. I missed things like this. It’s not even funny but Clay seems to think so as he’s choking on air and sputtering, tears prick his eyes and it takes a few moments for him to calm down.
“That really tickled you didn't it?” I can't help but taunt, still laughing lightly as I watch him settle.
“I forgot about how funny your sense of humour is,” he says after his giggles have finally dissipated.
I smile slightly, he really is the same as I remember, I wonder if he’s still the same in bed… I mentally slap myself, I cannot be having these thoughts right now. I need to distract myself. I'm sure he’s beginning to notice I'm not fully there, “Why did you bring me out here?”
I look over at him when he doesn't respond right away.
“I come here to think”, he lets out, “It’s peaceful.”
Allowing myself to understand his point of view, I look out into the parking lot that's being swallowed by darkness, it’s pretty in a kind of fucked up way, “Yeah, I guess it is.”
“Why’d you call me?” He speaks quickly as if he didn’t mean to let that question slip again, “Sorry you don’t have to tell me,” he tilts his head downward, avoiding my eyes.
“It’s okay, I just- I was- I had a dream about you,” I stutter out in a whispered mumble.
“I couldn’t hear you, say that a bit louder bub,” he’s teasing. It’s getting to me. And he knows it.
I don’t dare look at him, I can practically see his smirk from here. I can feel the red blush creep up my neck, it burns.
“I had a dream about you,” I repeat slowly, timidly. After a note of silence, I turn to face him.
“What was it about?” His smug smile is wide in a taunt. Sparkles dance dangerously through his eyes, and somehow I can tell he already knows.
“Well…” I stop, how can I explain to his face the reason I was worked up enough to call him? It’s silent in the car, I wait for him to demand answers but Clay doesn’t push, he just waits. “We were like together,” it’s vague at best.
“Like together?” He points between us, “or together?”
“The second one,” I answer shamefully. The cocky smirk that appears on his features turns into laughter.
“So you’re saying-” he starts before cutting off into a wheeze, “-you fucken called me,” his snickering doesn’t stop, “be-because you were horny,” he’s basically thrashing around now. His lungs sound like they are about to burst. All I can do is sit there and let the shame flood through me.
“It wasn’t like that,” I try to defend even though I know it definitely was. I stare down into my hands in humiliation. I only look back up when I can hear his breath calm down to a somewhat normal state, but have to look away again when I catch his eyes.
“No no no, baby, it’s cute,” he tries to reassure.
I can’t help but shudder at the name. And I can’t tell whether it makes me giddy or sick to my stomach.
“Don’t call me that.”
“What ‘baby’ or ‘cute’ I remember when-”
But I cut him off, “Everything you think you know about me has been tainted by your actions.”
He pauses for a moment before his mouth tilts into a sly grin, “Everything?” He asks like it's a challenge.
He puts his hand on my jaw tilting my face to meet his, I stare into his eyes, the same eyes that told me without a single hint of emotion that I wasn’t good enough. The same eyes that would look at me with love. The same eyes that would roll into the back of his head as he fucked into me.
“Yes.” I say, attempting to sound confident. But we can both hear the waver in my voice.
His eyes trail down to my lips before looking back up at me, “I think… we should test that theory?”
It's said as a statement but I know it's really a question for permission. Permission that I don't know if I have it in me to give. Does he deserve it? I hesitate at that thought, he doesnt deserve shit, but I do. I deserve to do something for myself for once, and if thats having sex with my ex so fucking be it.
His smirk turns to a genuine smile as he notices my mind wandering away from me. All my anger from before dissipates as I drown in his gaze. His eyes have softened, no longer taunting or teasing only admiration can be seen swimming through his darkened eyes.
I steal myself some confidence before finally replying as a whisper through my lips, “Yeah, maybe we should.”
Are faces lean in close over the centre console, foreheads pressing against one another. My eyes slip shut as I feel our heavy breathing mix together in the humidity of the parked car.
“Are you sure?” He asks, in soft sincerity.
I nod, blue spinning through my lust ridden brain.
That's all he needs before our lips clash together. It's messy and it’s dangerous, and I melt in it. In the familiarity. In the desperation. I whine in frustration when I can’t get closer, trying to pull him towards. He pulls away and gives me a gentle smirk before leaning back in his car seat.
I am just about to start complaining when he motions downward and pats his lap. I follow his hand with my gaze before looking up at him, a mischievous glint in my eyes. I know he’s noticed it too from his complexion turning into confident curiosity. A big dopey grin appearing on his face.
“Well what are you waiting for?” He questions, again patting his lap.
I just smirk and as gracefully as possible climb over the console knees straddling his thighs before slowly settling down and gently hovering over his lap, teasing him slightly. He huffs in dissatisfaction gripping my waist hard enough to bruise and pulling me forcefully down onto his lap. I gasp at the motion that shoots straight between my legs. I try to clench my thighs but am blocked by his body.
He notices feigning sympathy before he wraps one hand around my neck loosely. I know he can feel as my breath stutters. I watch as he moves his face right below my ear. My breathing temporarily stops as I wait for his action.
“Tell me what happened in this naughty dream of yours.”
I flush red in shame, not answering his question out of embarrassment. He’s not happy with my lack of response, hand tightening slightly, not enough to hurt but enough to make my pussy flutter.
“Answer me.” he demands firmly. A shock floods through my body at the tone. I inhale a deep breath and look down at my lap, eye contact being too humiliating to accomplish.
“You were touching me,” I start, listening to his hum of encouragement to continue, thumb brushing up and down my neck.
“Where was I touching you sweetheart?” He prompts.
“Everywhere,” I whisper.
He chuckles slightly at that before moving his hand down from my neck and placing them on my thighs, “Like here?” he questions.
“Yes,” I whisper again, voice small and desperate.
His hands move again but this time up to my face, finger tracing lightly over my lips, “Here?”
I nod this time not trusting my voice to not waiver.
“How about here?” his hands have travelled down my back and firmly squeeze the curve of my ass.
I stifle a moan before answering again, “Yes.”
His hands move once more, slowly feeling every curve and dip of my body. Worshipping it, cherishing it, claiming it. His fingers brushed over my chest in a teasing motion, my nipples perked up at the touch, before his hands slowly made their way down my body feeling the dip of my waist before resting at the top of my waist band.
Slowly he moved one hand under my pants fingers sitting lightly over my clothed cunt, too light to get any pleasure and just enough pressure to get me squirming, clenching on nothing. His hand stopped.
“And what about here?” he whispered right next to my ear, breath fanning the back of my neck causing shivers to ripple down my spine.
I finally break letting a moan spill from my lips, “Yes,” I wail, “Please Clay, no more teasing,” I beg, a grey fog clouds my mind as desperation takes over.
“Anything for you sweetheart,” he mumbles before applying pressure over my clothed clit and attaching his mouth to my neck.
I cry out at finally getting the stimulation I need. His fingers do slow rhythmic circles on my clit, I buck into his hand in tandem simultaneously grinding down on his cock. He groans at that, the vibration rumbling through my neck where he is suckling sweet dark marks of possession into the junction between my neck and collarbone.
I throw my head back in pleasure, slowly riding the pressure of his fingers. My hands tighten into Clay's hair, roughly tugging his mouth from my neck. He whines at the pain from the tug before my mouth catches his own moaning into it. He removes his hand from my pants, placing it once again around my neck. His tongue swipes over my bottom lip pulling a gasp from me, allowing him in.
Our lips mashed together passion burning through every groan that sounded. Tongues dancing together in hunger and lust. My hips never faltered in their back and forth motion, keeping a steady pace pulling moans from my own mouth as I feel him begin to harden under me. I smirk against his lips at the reaction I am getting from him.
My hands thread through his hair as his mouth attacks my own, I pull it slightly swallowing a moan that spills from his lips. His hands wander my body gripping my ass and pulling me flush against him. I gently bite his lower lip and pull, breaking our heated mouths from one another.
He looks at me with a feigned pout clear on his swollen lips. I just look down on him with a smirk, continuing to rock back and forth. I arch my back from the friction, and hear him stifle a moan from below me. I am teasing him and he knows it. And I know this won't last for long, but bliss is shooting through my veins and heat is burning through his stare, the car is starting to fog with our violet breaths of sin.
My pace picks up, I can feel the tightness begin to heat in the pit of my stomach. I tune out the world, closing my eyes. The only thing in my focus is the pleasure building, boiling. Large hands grab my hips and it stops, rolling away like it was never there. I whine, a dull pulse between my thighs taunting my frustration. I open my eyes, blush forming on my face from the embarrassment of getting carried away. Clay just looks amused but his eyes are lidded and his smirk is faltering.
“Are you done sweetheart?”
I look away from his eyes at that, trying to control my rapidly beating heart. He chuckles when I don't respond.
“God you really are desperate, aren't you?”
I look back at him, shame vanishing as I try to regain my pride, “Seems like you were enjoying it,” I retaliate, moving slightly to feel his cock twitch under me. He groans before his hands tighten harder around my hips and I give a small gasp.
“You were moaning so pretty grinding on my dick baby,” he starts waiting for my reaction before continuing, “Imagine how much I’ll have you screaming when I’m actually inside you?”
My cunt flutters at his words squeezing around nothing but he doesn’t stop his taunting there, “Do you want that sweetheart? Do you want to ride my cock?”
I nod shamelessly. He tutts in disappointment, “I need words baby.”
“Yes,” My voice is small, desperation seeping into every inflection, “Please.”
In a matter of seconds large hands are lifting from my waist grabbing the hem of my hoodie and pulling it off my body, I curse myself for not wearing anything underneath as the cool air brushes past my chest. His hands stop once he notices my naked breasts, ogling unabashedly, I smile at that, he’s always been a simple man.
I snap him out of his trance by pulling his top off of him. Our clothes get thrown in the backseat in a hurry, the longing for pleasure built to its peak. I lean into him lifting slightly from his lap as his hands grasp for my pants pulling them and my panties down together. My chest is in his face as I balance to allow him to remove his own bottoms. His hot breath fans between my cleavage, at the sensation I can feel a wetness dripping from between my thighs.
Clay settles me back down on his lap, we are flushed skin to skin now. There’s no hiding my arousal as it seeps onto his thighs. I look down at his cock standing proudly against his stomach, I eye it with hunger.
He notices my stare, “Big as you remember?” He questions cockily.
“I've seen better,” I tease, knowing his ego wont let me get away with it.
“Oh yeah? We’ll see about that,” he chuckles darkly.
My stomach erupts in butterflies at his tone and my thighs clench around his. I watch him lean to the side of me, opening up the glove box and pulling out a foil wrapper. He shifts his body back in front of me holding the packet up so I can see, I just stare at him with a pointedly quizzical look spread across my features.
“Condom?” he asks, just about ready to tear it open, but I stop him.
“Birth Control”, Is all I say giving him a knowing smirk before lifting myself up.
He grabs his own cock lining it up to my entrance, I try to lower myself and he stops me, his tip just catching my slit, “Are you sure?” he assesses.
I smile at him kindly, blush filtering over the tips of my ears, “Yes.”
Lowering myself slowly we both let out guttural groans at the feeling of finally being connected once more. He fills me up slowly. Both of us watching intently as his cock disappears inside of me. Once I've bottomed out, I sit there for a moment gazing into his eyes, eyes that I never thought I would see in this situation again. Hooded and swimming in lust and sin.
He wraps his hands around my waist slowly massaging small circles into my hips. I slip my hands through his hair tugging him towards me so our foreheads press against one another. Our bodys are connected together from everypoint.
I lift slowly, our heads still pressed together and eyes glazed over. I push myself back down and watch as Clay’s eyes roll into the back of his head. A steady pace is set as I slam myself down on his cock. Our heavy breathing is filling the air, sex clinging to our skin. My head is thrown back in pleasure as a stream of moans leave my throat each being punched out of me. I whimper a moan when I find the angle that grazes my g-spot, arousal crashing through my body in waves.
“Look at you bouncing on my cock,” Clay begins before cutting himself off with a groan, “Fuck your tight, practically made for this dick arent you baby?”
All I can do is nod my head, my mind is fucked out, from a feeling I never thought I would feel again. Each bounce sends shivers up my spine, and a throbbing in my clit. My tits are bouncing in rhythm, I watch as Clay notices before he moans low in his throat at the sight. My thighs are aching from exertion but the mind numbing feeling of pleasure is keeping me from stopping.
I slam down harder, pulling harsh gasps and moans from my own mouth and groans from his. His hands are grabbing tightly to my ass gripping aggressively fingertips burning into my skin. I’m so far gone in my world of pleasure all I can do is scream when I feel his fingers begin dancing on my clit. The dual stimulation feeling like sin dripping through my bloodstream.
Heat pools in my stomach muscles going tight, I'm close and I know he is too, from the ragged breathing and staggering moans. I all but cry when my thighs burn me to exhaustion stopping the climb.
The windows are completely fogged up, condensation dripping in a lewd metaphor. I try to catch my breath rocking back and forth slightly to keep the feeling there. Sexual frustration claws through me and I know Clay is feeling the same.
“Aw can’t do it anymore?” he taunts, “Do you need me to fuck you properly?”
A whine gets pulled from my lips, “Please Clay, I need it,” I beg.
He responds by brutally thrusting up into me, knocking a breath out of me, my hands hits the side window, moisture seeping into my fingertips. Each thrust is deliberate and intense, reaching so far inside me I can see stars. The familiar feeling begins to swirl in my stomach again, growing as each thrust hits me in all of the right places. I clench tightly around him pulling a harsh moan from his throat.
“Fuck sweetheart, don’t do that”
My mind is a haze of lust but not enough so to not want to tease him, I squeeze again moaning as his cock fills me up. His hand shoots down to my clit again circling, knowing the overwhelming stimulation will muddle my brain. It is too hot in the car and our breathing is only adding to that, sweat begins to appear on his forehead. The car smells like sex, and it only fuels our desire more.
My toes curl, and my limbs shake as I feel the heat beginning to wash through me in a crescendo, “Close,” is all I can moan out as my vision begins to blur.
“Me to baby, hold on”
Someone how his movements pick up, fucking me faster. His thrusts become erratic and I can tell he’s there. Light passes through my vision, my brain is in pure bliss, everything goes tight, heat ready to burst. “Please,” I sob, tears pricking my eyes, pleasure engulfing me.
“Now”
And that’s all I need to let go, screaming in ecstasy as I fall over the edge of release. Clay falls too, a guttural groan passing his lips, eyes rolling into the back of his head. My thighs are shaking and I close my eyes, heart beating quickly in my chest.
Once I’m recovered I grab his head, hands weaving through sweaty disarrayed hair and pulling him into a bruising kiss, emotion spilling through untold words. We pull our lips apart, and I watch as his face splits into the biggest grin. I giggle watching as he peppers kisses anywhere he can lay his mouth on. Temporarily I forget that he is still inside of me, letting myself enjoy his presence for longer. He pulls back from the attack to look at my face, fondness in his eyes.
“Hi,” he giggles, giggles.
I scoff slightly at his antics, “Hi,” responding just as softly, “I should probably..” I gesture down at our bodies still connected.
As carefully as possible I pull off of him, wrinkling my nose as cum drips out of me and down my thighs. “Do you have any tissues?”
“Why”, he asks incredulously, “My cum looks hot running down your legs.” The audacity this man has.
Giggling I slap his shoulder lightly in warning, getting off his lap and sitting in the passenger seat before rifling through his glove box, finding a packet of tissues. I grab one, cleaning myself off quickly before doing the same for Clay.
The atmosphere is content as we scrabble around the car putting our clothes back on. I have to beg Clay to turn the car on so we can open the windows and get rid of the overwhelming stench of sex suffocating the car. He argues it's hot, I argue it’s gross. It reminds me of old times, and I curse myself for reminiscing, not wanting to ruin the friendliness we have going on.
I check the dash time, 3:47am. Fuck. I look over at Clay, “We should probably go, it's really late,” I say trying to keep my voice neutral so as to not arouse suspicion.
He looks over at me and I swear I see disappointment flash behind his eyes before he smiles lightly, “Yeah, lets go.”
The carpark is still deserted as we pull out of it. Heading back down the highway we came, winding down the road. The car is silent as he drives us back to my house. I watch in silence as we enter my street and his car pulls up out the front of the house. I don’t look at him as I make to get out, but his hand stops me before I fully open the door.
“Call me again sometime?” he asks, a twinge of hopefulness lifts his voice. I smirk at him, opening the door and making my way out of the car.
I look behind me before responding, “We’ll see.”
I shut his car door gently and walk up to my house without looking back. I open the door slowly and only then do I let myself take a deep breath. I’m safely in my house, when I look out the window to see if he’s still there.
I watch the dark deserted street in disappointment, his car is gone.