Page 25 of Pretend I’m Yours
I was still keyed up from the time I spent with them, and I wasn’t ready for bed. So, I watched a movie in my room until the sun was starting to rise. The hangover didn’t hit me until mid-afternoon. And when it did, it hit hard.
The only times I’d seen Hannah was when I was heading out to the kitchen to see if there was anything I’d be able to stomach. She was kind enough to offer to grab me something from the store, but I turned her down. I was already taking over enough of her life, I didn’t need her to do that for me, too.
Hell, I was veteran; the one who was supposed to be taking care of her and protecting her through all this. Not the one who was supposed to move in and partying myself away for a few months while she worked her ass off.
Of course, she didn’t entirely listen to me, and when I made one of my many trips out into the kitchen, I found Gatorade and Saltines on the counter for me. Though I was filled with immense thankfulness and relief, there was also another feeling that rushed through me.
And it was one that scared the shit out of me.
It was the same feeling that had overtaken me when she and I were in the midst of having sex. When she walked over to me, offering to get me pizza, I had a feeling there was something else on her mind. The way she had leapt off the couch when I walked into the room, the way she’d let her t-shirt fall over her shorts.
Hell, even the way she’d turned to me, letting her hand brush against my leg ever so lightly as she did so – it all made me believe she was as full of lust for me as I was for her.
Then, tearing her clothes off, I knew I had to have her. Everything about her body was perfect. She was tight, smooth, and her pussy was like candy. Who was I kidding? Her body was a drug I could easily become addicted to.
But there was so much more than that. As I pushed myself inside her, I thought it was nothing but lust we were both feeling. But as we had sex, I realized there was more than lust, at least for me. I was starting to feel things for her that I’d not felt since Anna Marie.
There was even a part of me that could almost say I felt more for her than I had for Anna Marie.
With Hannah, I didn’t feel like I was living a life of service. I felt like she was just as willing – if not more willing – to do something for me than to expect me to do something for her, and that made me feel on top of the world.
I’d spent so much of my life trying to make a woman happy. And, in the end, it had come back to destroy me. It had made me vow that I was never going to give my heart to another woman again. I wanted to live life just for me and that was it.
I hadn’t thought I was going to meet Hannah. And knowing her for just the few weeks that I had was enough to make me think there was something more to her than what met the eye. She clearly wasn’t out to be served by the world. She wanted to serve.
And I found that more appealing than anything Anna Marie had wanted to do.
By Sunday, I felt human enough to leave my bedroom, but I still chose to stay shut in as much as possible. Once again, Hannah had spent the day breezing in and out, doing whatever it was she did to keep herself busy on the weekends. I’d only seen her once, and she’d just asked me how I was feeling. I felt like there was an elephant in the room since neither of us were bringing up the fact that we’d had sex. But she was acting normal.
As though nothing had ever happened.
I was in only my sweatpants and a tank top that I’d brought home with me from the military. I looked nothing like the rich man I was pretending to be, but she was still treating me like I was just like her. As though I also had millions or even billions in the bank.
Hannah truly didn’t seem to care that we were so different in what I considered to be fundamental ways. And that was only making my situation worse. To remedy the thoughts that kept running through my mind, I did the one thing that I knew how to do to ease the pain.
I took one of the bottles of whiskey, a shot glass, and hid in my room all day. She had made it clear I was free to help myself to anything that was in the apartment, and she didn’t say a word about the missing bottle despite the fact the empty space seemed blatant to me every time I stepped out of my room.
