The Reality of You
“The side of my face was stuck—drool turned glue—and my mouth had dried to nasty, scrape-able fuzz. Confused as to why I was on a couch and feeling dejected from the awful dream, I wrenched the side of my face from the leather and sat back, dragging the blanket over my legs and trying to recall how I’d gotten here.
The dark fireplace brought back last evening’s memories. Dinner, wine, and Reese kissing me. His phone buzzing. Then me lost in my imagination.
The bright light from the next room clu...ed me in on the time.
Morning.
Shit!
My hand smacked my forehead. Seven months of watching him and I fell asleep on the first night we were alone. Between the wine, the excitement, and getting up over an hour early yesterday to beat Kara out of the apartment, I’d been whipped, but sleep instead of Reese?
I was such a loser.
I could have stayed home and played Friday night games online. I wanted to punch myself in the forehead instead of a smack.
Hard.
“Good morning, sunshine,”
Reese said, leaning in the doorway between this room and the kitchen.MoreLess
The dark fireplace brought back last evening’s memories. Dinner, wine, and Reese kissing me. His phone buzzing. Then me lost in my imagination.
The bright light from the next room clu...ed me in on the time.
Morning.
Shit!
My hand smacked my forehead. Seven months of watching him and I fell asleep on the first night we were alone. Between the wine, the excitement, and getting up over an hour early yesterday to beat Kara out of the apartment, I’d been whipped, but sleep instead of Reese?
I was such a loser.
I could have stayed home and played Friday night games online. I wanted to punch myself in the forehead instead of a smack.
Hard.
“Good morning, sunshine,”
Reese said, leaning in the doorway between this room and the kitchen.MoreLess
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