“I hate to tell you this, but this is gonna be the last time we hook up.” I slipped my shoes off beside her bed.
“Oh is that so, snowflake?” She adjusted her red cap, clearly surprised.
“Yea actually I’m serious,” I said without my usual sarcasm. “I met someone and I want to see where it goes, so we can’t be doing this anymore.”
It seemed weird to be scratching this depth with her. On any other day I’d make some joke about filling her up so much, she’ll need to drain her swamp twice. But it just didn’t feel right in this moment.
“Nah, I get it. We knew what this was.” She almost looked sad, but quickly masked it with a rise in her voice. “How’d y’all meet?”
“I ordered her on Wayfair, actually. She was listed as the Chelsea Bookshelf. Really good price too,” I said dryly.
“Fuck off!” She frisbee’d her hat at me, catching me just above the eye.
We hadn’t seen each other in a week. Maybe that was it, but something felt different.