The moment she stumbled through the front door, flushed and sweaty, I knew she had been up to no good.
“How was brunch with Melissa?” I kept my tone light, despite the butterflies in my stomach.
“Hm? Oh, fine,” she replied distractedly as she flipped through the mail on the dining table.
“It’s just that you said you would only be a couple of hours, and it’s nearly six,” I said, wincing inwardly at how peevish I sounded.
She stuck her lower lip out in a mock-sympathetic pout. “Aww, poor baby, did you miss me?”
She walked toward me with an exaggerated swaying of her hips. Even after eight years together, the sight of her white, shapely legs emerging from an abbreviated pair of shorts still made my heart race. The outline of her nipples beneath the loose shirt showed that she wasn’t wearing a bra, which was unusual for her. She took my hand, her eyes cast downward in fake contrition.
“Well, if you must know: after brunch, I walked Melissa home and hung out with her roommate Nathan for a bit. Melissa had to go to work, so I ended up staying and talking with him on the couch.” Read more »