And let’s scroll back a little more. I just had sex with Justin Attleborough. How did that happen? When I saw his truck next to my trailer, I knew trouble was awaiting my arrival, but I never knew which sort.
Man, was he possessive. I couldn’t even utter a word, it’s like the alpha air around us ordered me to shut up, and I listened like a good girl.
I wanted to tell him about my virginal state, but every time I tried, he was there to shut me up with his mouth. Literally. He kissed me differently this time. This time, he wanted to possess, and I didn’t mind one bit. Just remembering his lips on my body gives me shivers, and a silly smile spreads over my lips.
And then I expected him to leave, but he didn’t. Instead, he surprised the lights out of me and climbed into the bed. More than that, he tucked me under his arm and stayed the whole night. Sleeping. I still don't know how bad his insomnia is. I mean, it must be not good from what I saw that time, but I honestly don’t know his situation. From what I’ve googled, people can have insomnia to different degrees, and him crashing like that time in my kitchen might be pretty bad.
He didn't like the question about when his insomnia started, and I suspect that it has everything to do with what had happened with his sister. Fuck, the amount of guilt he's been carrying must be exhausting. It must be even heavier than mine. How does he live with that? How does he look at himself in the mirror every day? I don't blame him, and I don't think it was his fault. The asshole who assaulted Alicia is at fault. That motherfucker needs to pay, not Justin.
And certainly not me. The ugly truth is what happenedthatnight is horrible. What happened to Alicia is devastating and unfair, and I pray that one day she won’t be haunted by what happened. At the same time, to my utter disgust with myself, I know I shouldn't feel guilty. The anger I feel at being made to feel guilty all these years suffocates me. I thought I did something horrible—truly did it—and forgot about it. I've gone all this time thinking I'm such a horrible person that I didn't even think whatever I did was important enough to remember. But it clearly left an impact on Justin's life. I'd say it's gaslighting, but I was the one feeding myself the lies.
My phone rings, and I pick it up without checking the caller ID.
“Sup, Kay.” A deep voice rumbles through the speaker.
“Oh, hi, Archie.” The excitement in my voice dies down...
“Don’t sound so joyful.” His low laughter is very sexy, but it never causes any shivers, unlike someone else's.
“I was just distracted. What's up?" It's not like I expected Justin to call so fast—if ever—but hearing another voice still deflated my bubble a little bit.
“What’s up? We were supposed to meet for breakfast. Remember?”
“Oh shoot! I’m sorry, man. I forgot.” I groan and smack my forehead.
“O-o-okay.” He says suspiciously. “Is something going on?”
“No, why?” I answer too fast.
He laughs louder. “Because I had a visit this morning from a certain blond dude whose name shall not be named. Driving your car, by the way.” Then he hums and adds. “Or do we name him now, Kay-baby?”
“Oh, stop it!” I groan. “You’re bad.”
“And you probably, on the other hand, had yourself an excellent night last night. The dude has some settled look to him, like he finally got rid of his demons.” He laughs. “Happy for you. Told you, hate fucks are the best.” He chuckles.
I groan at his teasing and ask, “What did Justin want?”
“So he does have a name now.” He hums again. I can even imagine him smirking.
“Archie! For fucks sake!”
“What? It was coming. Was it a good coming?” His chuckle is low and seductive but, again, does nothing for me.
“Oh, fuck you, Archie!”
“I’d love to, but no, thank you. I like my pretty face the way it is. The dude was very intense and very clear, and I’m in no mood to get my nose rearranged.” I hear the shuffling of clothes.
“Pussy.”
"I'm pretty." He laughs again. And he isn't wrong; Archie is very handsome, almost too handsome. He is like a dirty, sexy pirate who can sweet-talk you into doing anything. "Do you want me to come and pick you up?"
I like Archie, I do, but I draw the line at sharing information about my home. I’m just weird like that.
“No, I’ll meet you later in town; Justin said he'll pick me up. Maybe lunch?"
“Sure. Who am I to compete withthe one?" He teases and hangs up. With him, it's like that: he doesn't get offended, nor does he offend. All he does is tease, even though I have a feeling he’s a very deep person. And very-verydark. The excitement every time he feels pain, his ever-sad eyes even when he’s laughing, the mastered ability to dodge every single personal question. Yeah, Archie’s got dark demons. I know he and Alex were the only ones who survived during some operation on their last tour, and neither of them came back the same. Besides that, they were both dishonorably discharged, and I can’t imagine that wouldn’t leave a mark on a soldier who loyally served for years. But that’s pretty much it, I don’t know anything else about him, but from what I see, I can tell he is good people.
Marina gave me the day off, saying I would probably be hungover after the party. If she only knew. Or maybe she did, that witch. She always knows more than anyone does. I wanted to go to town in the morning, but it's not morning anymore, and my car's taken, so I decide to clean.
