He was still standing beside the fountain, hands in pockets, grey staring me down.
I raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for his next words. He stalled, stood there looking delectable, but unable to say whatever he'd planned to say before.
Finally, and I'll admit disappointingly, he murmured, "Take care." Then turned and walked towards the casino.
For a second I was furious. He'd stolen my moment of being the one to walk away. That emotion, though, was quickly followed by relief. What had he wanted to say? Would it have made everything so much harder than it already was?
This was for the best. It was already way too difficult.
I spent the entire taxi ride home trying not to dwell on the ever increasing fucked-up-ness that is my life. Which was made more difficult because of the lack of suitable underwear in a public transport vehicle. I shifted on the plastic covered seats, chewed on my bottom lip - something I do not do normally - and then substituted that with a fingernail.
I was so messed up inside. Part of me reliving the glass floor sex-capades with Drew at over two hundred metres high and feeling decidedly turned on by them. Another part, the new part, reminding me of last night. The lost hours. The semi-stranger video-store-guy.
I walked into my quiet and deserted flat, switched on my bedroom light and stared at my unmade bed. I surround myself with people. I have a fantastic group of friends. Hell, I have five - no four - men in my stable of bed partners.
Then why do I feel so alone?
I crawled beneath the covers, having simply shed my blouse, bra and skirt, and cuddled my spare pillow. It took a long time to drift off to sleep, and when I did my cheeks were wet with tears.
The alarm woke me. Sent me bolt upright in bed, heart in throat, chest heaving. I'd been having a dream. An old familiar dream. One I hadn't had in over fifteen years. It left me breathless. It left me shaking. It left a hole inside my body that I knew would be damn near impossible to fill.
Why was this all coming back now?
Shaking my head I threw the covers back and headed into the shower. Today was meant to be a happy day, I needed steaming hot water, a steaming hot coffee, and no more thoughts of steamy hot sex. How hard could it be?
Im-fucking-possible. That's how hard.
I turned up at Gen and Dom's just after ten. Early for me on a Sunday. Dominic answered the door, dressed in casual trousers, a polo shirt and his signature suck-all-available-air-out-of-the-room look. Gen was one lucky lady. But then, Dominic was pretty fortunate, too.
"I hope you haven't got anything too rigorous planned, Kelly," he said, stepping aside and allowing me to pass. I shuffled in, my arms laden with containers and bags.
In the next instant he'd taken them all and was leading the way down the hall.
"Who me?" I quipped, searching for old Kelly. Red Kelly in amongst the increasing black.
"She's tired today. Didn't sleep well," Dom pointed out.
"Then you shouldn't keep her up all night, Dom."
He glanced at me over his shoulder as he entered the lounge, giving me that look. The one I seem to always get when Dominic indulges me.
"Relax, lawyer-man. I've got sedate down to an art form."
He made his cough-like laugh and placed all the bags and boxes on the dining table attached to the kitchen itself.
"Where is our girl?" I asked, moving to start unpacking items.
"Finishing up in the shower. She's only just woken up. I'm about to make breakfast, care for some?"
"Why the hell not." Then added, "Is it pancakes?" I loved pancakes.
"It can be if you tell me what you have planned for today."
"It's a surprise," I announced.
"I won't tell," he retorted.
We stared at each other, neither willing to back down. But Dom has that whole lawyer patience thing going on, he could stand there all day, arms crossed over chest, glaring until I cracked. I was too damn disillusioned for this right now.
"OK. Some games, all sitting down and harmless, humorous ones. Lots
I raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for his next words. He stalled, stood there looking delectable, but unable to say whatever he'd planned to say before.
Finally, and I'll admit disappointingly, he murmured, "Take care." Then turned and walked towards the casino.
For a second I was furious. He'd stolen my moment of being the one to walk away. That emotion, though, was quickly followed by relief. What had he wanted to say? Would it have made everything so much harder than it already was?
This was for the best. It was already way too difficult.
I spent the entire taxi ride home trying not to dwell on the ever increasing fucked-up-ness that is my life. Which was made more difficult because of the lack of suitable underwear in a public transport vehicle. I shifted on the plastic covered seats, chewed on my bottom lip - something I do not do normally - and then substituted that with a fingernail.
I was so messed up inside. Part of me reliving the glass floor sex-capades with Drew at over two hundred metres high and feeling decidedly turned on by them. Another part, the new part, reminding me of last night. The lost hours. The semi-stranger video-store-guy.
I walked into my quiet and deserted flat, switched on my bedroom light and stared at my unmade bed. I surround myself with people. I have a fantastic group of friends. Hell, I have five - no four - men in my stable of bed partners.
Then why do I feel so alone?
I crawled beneath the covers, having simply shed my blouse, bra and skirt, and cuddled my spare pillow. It took a long time to drift off to sleep, and when I did my cheeks were wet with tears.
The alarm woke me. Sent me bolt upright in bed, heart in throat, chest heaving. I'd been having a dream. An old familiar dream. One I hadn't had in over fifteen years. It left me breathless. It left me shaking. It left a hole inside my body that I knew would be damn near impossible to fill.
Why was this all coming back now?
Shaking my head I threw the covers back and headed into the shower. Today was meant to be a happy day, I needed steaming hot water, a steaming hot coffee, and no more thoughts of steamy hot sex. How hard could it be?
Im-fucking-possible. That's how hard.
I turned up at Gen and Dom's just after ten. Early for me on a Sunday. Dominic answered the door, dressed in casual trousers, a polo shirt and his signature suck-all-available-air-out-of-the-room look. Gen was one lucky lady. But then, Dominic was pretty fortunate, too.
"I hope you haven't got anything too rigorous planned, Kelly," he said, stepping aside and allowing me to pass. I shuffled in, my arms laden with containers and bags.
In the next instant he'd taken them all and was leading the way down the hall.
"Who me?" I quipped, searching for old Kelly. Red Kelly in amongst the increasing black.
"She's tired today. Didn't sleep well," Dom pointed out.
"Then you shouldn't keep her up all night, Dom."
He glanced at me over his shoulder as he entered the lounge, giving me that look. The one I seem to always get when Dominic indulges me.
"Relax, lawyer-man. I've got sedate down to an art form."
He made his cough-like laugh and placed all the bags and boxes on the dining table attached to the kitchen itself.
"Where is our girl?" I asked, moving to start unpacking items.
"Finishing up in the shower. She's only just woken up. I'm about to make breakfast, care for some?"
"Why the hell not." Then added, "Is it pancakes?" I loved pancakes.
"It can be if you tell me what you have planned for today."
"It's a surprise," I announced.
"I won't tell," he retorted.
We stared at each other, neither willing to back down. But Dom has that whole lawyer patience thing going on, he could stand there all day, arms crossed over chest, glaring until I cracked. I was too damn disillusioned for this right now.
"OK. Some games, all sitting down and harmless, humorous ones. Lots
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