“Dude, what happened to you last night?” he asked without taking his eyes away from his game.
“I got drunk and passed out at the park.”
I opened the fridge and downed some tomato juice. Dad swore by it for a hangover. Turns out he was right. I stocked up the minute I knew I’d be doing some heavy drinking. I crashed onto the couch next to Tiny.
“Why do you play this shit, man? It hurts my brain just watching.”
“You don’t know nuttin’ about some Skyrim,” he said as he fought some crazy-looking giant on the screen.
“Yeah, you have fun with that. I’m going over to my old man’s house to get my shit. I’ll be back.”
I got off the couch and started toward the door.
“Yeah, see you later.”
Not once did he take his eyes off the screen.
A few minutes later, I pulled into my dad’s empty yard. I’d never been so happy to see his truck gone. The shitty front porch buckled as I ran up the steps to the front door. The door popped open with little effort and the smell of beer was stronger than ever when I walked in.
I didn’t waste any time. I went straight to my old bedroom and started packing my shit into black trash bags I’d grabbed in the kitchen. I was almost done when I heard the door open. I froze. The thought of my dad coming home sucked. It was the last thing I wanted to deal with right now. I’m sure he was sour as shit about getting his ass kicked.
I peeked down the hallway, expecting to see his large frame approaching. Instead, Stephanie, the redhead, stood there. She smiled seductively as she slowly walked down the hallway toward my room.
“What are you doing here?” I asked as I turned away and started packing. “How did you know where I was?”
“I didn’t. I was across the street, hanging out with my girl, when I saw you pull up. I thought I’d come over and see if there was anything I could help you with. Finn told me you were moving in with Tiny. I figured you were packing.”
She ran a painted fingernail across the top of my old, broken dresser.
“Finn has a big fucking mouth,” I said dryly.
“So do I.” She grinned over at me.
I didn’t miss her meaning. She made it even more obvious when she looked down at the crotch of my pants. I felt my cock get hard under her gaze. It’s not like I could help it. It had been weeks since I had a woman and being teased by Patience every time I got around her didn’t help. Maybe if I got it out of my system I wouldn’t be so caught up on Patience. Maybe all I needed was a good, hard, meaningless fuck.
“Pretty much, you came over here to get laid?” I asked bluntly as I sat down on my old bed.
She laughed. “Well, we can talk, too. I have a lot on my chest that you could maybe help soothe.” She smirked.
Fuck it. I was done over thinking shit. It was time old Zeke came back and squashed all this emotional bullshit.
“I think you should come sit right here and tell me all about it.” I patted the crotch of my jeans.
She moved like a cat across my room, unbuttoning her top on the way to my bed. When she reached the side of my bed, she was in only her sexy little skirt and a lacey black bra that left nothing to the imagination. It was fucking hot and I should’ve been all about dipping my cock in that red-hot piece, but my thoughts kept going back to Patience.
She seemed to think I was so much better than this. Well, she was wrong. I wasn’t better than this. This was who I was; this was who I’d always be.
Stephanie climbed onto my lap. I worked my hands up her thighs and under her skirt. I was met with stringy panties and a soft, wet spot.
“Take this off,” I demanded as I tugged roughly on her skirt.
Her eyes lit up. Women loved that shit. They loved a man who took charge during sex and so, in turn, women loved me. She stood above me, her crotch lingering in front of my face, and peeled her matching black throngs down her legs. Unashamed of her body, she stood above me and let me take her in with my eyes. It was a huge turn-on, but still, all I could think about was how cute Patience was when she was trying to make sure her body was covered. She was so bashful about her beautiful body. Modesty was something I wasn’t used to. Honestly, I kind of liked it and strangely, it was more of a turn-on.
Why did I have to keep thinking about her? Why couldn’t I just forget about her, deem her a nice girl, and move the fuck on? It was annoying beyond belief and I was already sick of the way she made me feel. Emotions weren’t a good thing for a guy like me. Actually, they were fucking dangerous as all get out and I couldn’t allow them in my life. If I had to have sex with every girl that passed by, then so be it. I had to get Patience out of my system. I needed her off my skin and the only way to do that was to move on.