Warning! This chapter pushes my trying-to-be E rating.
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"I met some of the neighbors yesterday," Brielle tells me happily as I sit down to some of her fantastic pancakes.
We don't see each other much in the evenings since she's already at the restaurant by the time I get home from work.
Even though I don't like our clashing work schedules, I love that Brielle lives with me. I've done my best to continue to give her the space she needs. The worst is when I hear her as she comes home in the middle of the night. I used to wait up for her, but she would always be cranky and ready to go to sleep. Staying up to wait for her would make me exhausted as well. Frequently, I hear her come in, and it's all I can do not to leap out of bed and run to her. A couple of times, I've waited a few minutes and gotten up to stand quietly outside her door, wishing to be on its other side.
"Oh yeah?" I ask.
"Mhm. They're a couple of nice ladies with a son. Their house is huge, even bigger than it looks from the outside. I got a tour, and then we just stood around and danced to their son's stereo."
The Maker is glad that the next expansion pack, which wasn't out yet (this was the end of July), has better dancing.
"That's great," I tell her conversationally. We haven't been very social, preferring to spend our free time with each other or working on accomplishing our career goals. Brielle has officially entered the bartender career path.
Life continues, and we settle into a routine of sorts.
Every morning these past weeks, I go for a jog before Brielle gets up. With her late hours, she likes to sleep in. I need to go on my jogs. They help with the strain of living with a gorgeous woman while remaining in the more simple stage of a physical relationship.
Like most mornings, I run with my iPod playing in my ears. The noise helps drown out my thoughts. I run hard today, and by the time I make it back home, I'm in serious need of a shower. Since the bathroom door is directly in front of the front door, I haven't removed my earbuds yet when I enter the bathroom.
Movement catches my eye, and I see Brielle turn back around in the shower, having just put some shampoo into her hand. She lifts her hand to the top of her head to start washing her hair, and I stand here rigidly as my eyes slowly travel downward.
I somehow manage to keep breathing while I soak in the perfectly-formed body of my girlfriend. I don't move a muscle, not wanting her to know I'm here and hoping that she won't see me if I don't make any sudden movements. My heart pumps wildly in my chest, and keeping my breathing quiet becomes more difficult as my increased heart rate sends blood shooting to aching parts of my anatomy.
Oh dear maker. She uses some of the suds of the shampoo to wash her chest, her hands sliding easily over the wet skin. Turning around, she now faces me with her eyes closed, and she arches her back, pushing her face up to allow the water to rinse her hair. My eyes drink in the fantastic sight of the water running down her body. My hands burn to do the same, and I unthinkingly take a step towards her.
Immediately, her eyes open wide, seeing me. "Graham!" she cries out in surprise and makes a feeble attempt to cover herself. When I look more closely at her expression, I see it's one of terror.
"Sorry!" I blurt out and flee from the bathroom before I can't control myself. Panting and not knowing what else to do, I quickly make my way to my little bedroom, close the door behind me, and lean against it.
I hear a growling noise come out of me as I spin around and grab the doorknob. I turn it and pull the door partly open before my other hand shoots out and slams it closed. Panting again, I press myself against the hard door, and I bring my hands up to grab the top of the doorframe, my forehead resting on the wood.
She was right there, and she's gorgeous. Oh, I knew she was before today, the sight of her in her swimsuit burned into my memory. However, that sight got trumped this morning. My hands tighten their grip of the doorframe.
I hear the soft padding of little feet as they rush into her bedroom, and the sound of a door closing and locking echoes in my heavily-aroused brain. It fully registers with me that she locked her door, and I remember the terror in her eyes, making me wince.
I let go of the door and lean my back against the wall separating our rooms. Slowly, my breathing returns to normal as I force myself to only think of the look in her beautiful eyes.
S---. I'm going to go insane if I'm not already.
The shower's empty now, I think and dart out of my room to find relief the hot water of the shower can bring.
At work today, Courtney is a bigger b*tch than normal. Both of us aggravated that I'm getting nothing worthwhile accomplished, she sends me home. That's fine with me. Brielle has the evening off today.
When I get home, I have a seat on the sofa. I can hear her rummaging around in her bedroom, so I wait. Finally, she exits the room, sees me sitting on the sofa, and starts in surprise.
I jump off the couch and move to stand in front of her. "Hey," I say as casually as I can manage. "My boss sent me home early today." I still haven't told her that Courtney is my boss. That's a conversation for another day. I haven't found the right time.
"Hey, Graham... Um... I hope it's nothing bad. I was just...going..."
She's wearing a sweater dress, exactly like that red one that had driven me nearly over the edge while she was still sixteen. She's definitely not sixteen anymore, and she's only gotten hotter.
"I'll go with you," I tell her happily even though she still hasn't told me where she's going.
Her fingers move up to play with her mouth as she mumbles, "No, it's... Um..." Then she mumbles more quietly this time, and I can't understand her. She turns to leave.
No, I think quite clearly. "Wait," I tell her and reach out to grab her wrist as she turns. I will not let this make things weird.
"Graham, I..." She weakly tries to free her wrist.
"I got the rest of the day off, and you don't have to go to work tonight. And...We need to talk." Her eyes look at me in alarm. "Please, Brielle. Don't run away."
She jerks her wrist from my grasp. "Why do you call it that?" she snaps defensively.
"Because that's exactly what it is."
"It's not like I won't come back."
"I would really prefer we talk about this now."
"About what?" she asks with a worried expression.
"Sit on the couch with me, please," I request.
A small pout shows up, and she replies, "All right."
I scowl. Oh. Great, I think with mild sarcasm. She thinks this is a breakup talk.
"Explain the pout, first," I request. She turns her head to look down at her lap. Right now, I dare not follow her eyes. When she sits down, that dress rides up her thighs in a delightful way. Since she hasn't responded, I continue, "This is not the 'we need to talk' conversation you might be thinking, Brielle." Her eyes pop up to me, and I'm sure to have a passively-smiling expression on my face.
Bracing herself visibly, she asks, "Then what is it?"
"I had no idea you were in the bathroom this morning before I walked in there."
"I'm sorry! I should've locked the door," she tells me quickly, telling me without saying that she's fretted over this all day.
To stop the fretting, I ask, "Why?"
My tactic works. "Why should I have locked the door?"
"Yeah."
"So that you wouldn't accidentally come in and see me in the shower."
A small smile plays about my lips as I tell her, "I have absolutely no problem with seeing you in the shower."
"Yes, you do because you wanted to do more than just see me in the shower," she says and blushes.
"I would be lying if I said I didn't. What I'm saying is I don't have a problem with it." Bonehead! She's a rape victim, remember?! SHE has a problem with it. I need to help.
She stays quiet, biting her lip. I can tell she really has something she wants to say but is nervous to try.
"Please talk to me, Brielle. I love you. You're breathtaking. I didn't stumble in on you on purpose, but please don't blame me for standing there and admiring you."
"Graham, I'm just so scared!"
"Of me?" I question. I really don't think it's me, but asking that will get the conversation going in the right direction.
She curls up. "I knew you'd say that."
"Have I ever done anything to you that you didn't like?" I ask to get her thinking. Before we moved to Eden, we'd made out frequently, and I brought her up and over the edge while both of us still remained fully clothed. I'd thought I'd at least proven to her that it's not supposed to be like it was with that jerk. Ever since we moved here, she's gotten distant.
Going along with my thought, I ask, "Has living with me proven to be too much? Would it help you if you got your own apartment?" No! my heart screams in agony. I'll hate it if she moves out, but if it helps her, I'll endure it.
"Graham, I'm not scared of you exactly," she says, still looking at her lap.
"Then tell me what I can do to help," I tell her, my entire being filling with so much love that I imagine it glowing out the tips of my fingers. She doesn't want to move out. Please let me be right about that. She would've immediately agreed to it if she did.
"When I was in the shower and you saw me, you had this look in your eyes, and I worried I wouldn't be able to stop you."
I know what look she means. I'd fully intended, without thinking it through, to walk into the shower completely clothed so that I could run my hands over her wet body. "I'm sorry that scared you. And as for not being able to stop me, Brielle, I thought you knew you could stop me any time."
Neither of us say a word for a minute or so. I resist the urge to reach out and pull her face back up to me. I want so badly to kiss her right now, as a way to tell her it's okay, but I don't, letting her think.
She slowly lifts her head, and a small smile flits across her lips. In a quiet voice, she asks, "You think I'm breathtaking?"
I feel one of my eyebrows raise as I say, "You're kidding, right?" I smile to let her know I'm teasing. "Yes. I'd been standing there a full minute before you saw me, and I could barely breathe as I watched you."
"What would you have done if I'd not stopped you?" she questions shyly.
I mentally whimper. She wants me to tell her. Oh, maker, this is going to be difficult. How much does she want to know? "You really want to know?"
She looks down again, unsure of herself. "I hate that that happened to me! It's messed me up." She takes a deep breath and stares at the wall in front of her. "Tell me everything, Graham. Don't leave anything out."
"No. Not if it makes you uncomfortable." Absolutely not. I will not have you being afraid of me.
"You're not the bad guy! Tell me what the good guy would do."
I'm not the bad guy. No, I sure as hell am not. But I'm still a guy. "Brielle..." I let saying her name in question convey my discomfort with going forward and telling her what I'd do if she had never had that awful thing happen to her.
"Graham, if it's too much, I promise I'll tell you to stop." Her amazing blue eyes reach mine, begging for something to just be normal in her life for once, and my hardened resolve melts. So many times, I've wanted to tell her what she does to me, but I've held back. Maybe that did more harm than good, gave justification to her uneasiness.
Counting on her holding to her promise, I lean over and say quietly into her ear, "If you didn't stop me, I would've gotten into the shower, not caring I was still fully clothed, and run my hands all over your gorgeous body, the water making it even better. Of course I'd have to kiss you, probably putting both our faces under the spray of the shower head." I pause and gauge her reaction. Her breathing has gotten fast and shallow, but she hasn't asked me to stop.
Telling her what I'd like to do proves difficult, but I like it more than I thought I would. Usually, I'd just do instead of thinking about it, but now that I picture myself in that situation, I can tell her exactly what I'd do.
I watch her breathing, and I want to kiss her just under her ear. "And then I'd kiss your neck." I blissfully kiss her where I want to, slowly and deliberately. She shudders, but I don't think it's in fear. I start kissing her further down her neck, and my hand reaches up to hold her cheek. "Then your perfect chest." I resist the urge to go to second base, not wanting to push her. After all, she only asked me to tell her, not do it. I'm probably pushing it by kissing her like this, but she's not stopping me.
I know what I'd do after that, but I don't think she can handle hearing it. So, I kiss her precious lips.
She breathes in quickly through her nose, but she doesn't pull away. Instead, she carefully kisses me back. She must know how turned on I am and doesn't want to push me further.
Surprisingly, she pulls back and asks, "Then what would you do?"
I'm about to spontaneously combust! She asked. I start nudging her to lie down on the couch. Before she rests her head on the arm of the sofa, however, I stop her and kiss her neck and the bit of skin left exposed by the dress. Just TELLING her might make me lose it! I catch my breath as much as I'm able and say, "I'd gently press your back against the wall of the shower and kiss you down your stomach until I'm on my knees in front of you." Her hands make tight fists in my hair. I groan and go to second base. She blessedly sighs, and my blood starts burning in my veins. My voice sounds like a small growl when I continue, "Then I'd hold your hips steady and kiss you...there." I don't get too descriptive at this point because it would be more than I could take.
She lies beneath me now, her dress pushed up from her legs being on either side of me, and I instinctively start moving against her. She makes a little whimpering noise that's so f--king hot that I have an extremely difficult time staying in control and not ripping her clothes off.
Through my fogged brain, I remind myself that this might not be okay with her. "Too much?" I ask simply. She moans and wraps her legs around my hips, letting that be her answer. S---, I think and dive into her mouth. Oh, I have missed this so much! We haven't made out like this since coming here.
My hand travels up her thigh and under her dress, and I go exploring, completely lost in the moment. She makes a noise like she likes what I'm doing, so I push it further.
She's a virgin! I realize with absolute shock. I gasp and think, What? But...
She grabs the back of my neck and pulls herself up to kiss me again. I barely respond as my hand comes out from under her dress, and my eyes open. I thought...
Her eyes open to see my expression. I'm sure my confusion shows on my face.
"What is it?" she asks.
"You-" were raped. "I thought-" you weren't a virgin. Another picture, different from what I'd always sickeningly imagined, forms in my mind, making me want to rip Fred's head from his shoulders. I wince from the pain of what happened to her, and I hold her to me tightly. "Oh, Brielle! Oh, baby, I had no idea that's what happened."
Her hands tightly fist themselves in my shirt. "How did you know?" she asks in a small voice.
"I figured it out," I tell her simply. I want to protect her from the world as I hold her in my arms. My lips gently kiss her forehead, and my hand comes up to stroke her face and hair. I discover tears, and I assume my shirt is wet from them too.
I take a deep breath and tell her quietly, "No one will ever hurt you again."
Click here to go to Chapter 32
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We don't see each other much in the evenings since she's already at the restaurant by the time I get home from work.
Even though I don't like our clashing work schedules, I love that Brielle lives with me. I've done my best to continue to give her the space she needs. The worst is when I hear her as she comes home in the middle of the night. I used to wait up for her, but she would always be cranky and ready to go to sleep. Staying up to wait for her would make me exhausted as well. Frequently, I hear her come in, and it's all I can do not to leap out of bed and run to her. A couple of times, I've waited a few minutes and gotten up to stand quietly outside her door, wishing to be on its other side.
"Oh yeah?" I ask.
The Maker is glad that the next expansion pack, which wasn't out yet (this was the end of July), has better dancing.
Life continues, and we settle into a routine of sorts.
Every morning these past weeks, I go for a jog before Brielle gets up. With her late hours, she likes to sleep in. I need to go on my jogs. They help with the strain of living with a gorgeous woman while remaining in the more simple stage of a physical relationship.
Like most mornings, I run with my iPod playing in my ears. The noise helps drown out my thoughts. I run hard today, and by the time I make it back home, I'm in serious need of a shower. Since the bathroom door is directly in front of the front door, I haven't removed my earbuds yet when I enter the bathroom.
I somehow manage to keep breathing while I soak in the perfectly-formed body of my girlfriend. I don't move a muscle, not wanting her to know I'm here and hoping that she won't see me if I don't make any sudden movements. My heart pumps wildly in my chest, and keeping my breathing quiet becomes more difficult as my increased heart rate sends blood shooting to aching parts of my anatomy.
Oh dear maker. She uses some of the suds of the shampoo to wash her chest, her hands sliding easily over the wet skin. Turning around, she now faces me with her eyes closed, and she arches her back, pushing her face up to allow the water to rinse her hair. My eyes drink in the fantastic sight of the water running down her body. My hands burn to do the same, and I unthinkingly take a step towards her.
Immediately, her eyes open wide, seeing me. "Graham!" she cries out in surprise and makes a feeble attempt to cover herself. When I look more closely at her expression, I see it's one of terror.
"Sorry!" I blurt out and flee from the bathroom before I can't control myself. Panting and not knowing what else to do, I quickly make my way to my little bedroom, close the door behind me, and lean against it.
I hear a growling noise come out of me as I spin around and grab the doorknob. I turn it and pull the door partly open before my other hand shoots out and slams it closed. Panting again, I press myself against the hard door, and I bring my hands up to grab the top of the doorframe, my forehead resting on the wood.
She was right there, and she's gorgeous. Oh, I knew she was before today, the sight of her in her swimsuit burned into my memory. However, that sight got trumped this morning. My hands tighten their grip of the doorframe.
I hear the soft padding of little feet as they rush into her bedroom, and the sound of a door closing and locking echoes in my heavily-aroused brain. It fully registers with me that she locked her door, and I remember the terror in her eyes, making me wince.
I let go of the door and lean my back against the wall separating our rooms. Slowly, my breathing returns to normal as I force myself to only think of the look in her beautiful eyes.
S---. I'm going to go insane if I'm not already.
The shower's empty now, I think and dart out of my room to find relief the hot water of the shower can bring.
At work today, Courtney is a bigger b*tch than normal. Both of us aggravated that I'm getting nothing worthwhile accomplished, she sends me home. That's fine with me. Brielle has the evening off today.
When I get home, I have a seat on the sofa. I can hear her rummaging around in her bedroom, so I wait. Finally, she exits the room, sees me sitting on the sofa, and starts in surprise.
"Hey, Graham... Um... I hope it's nothing bad. I was just...going..."
She's wearing a sweater dress, exactly like that red one that had driven me nearly over the edge while she was still sixteen. She's definitely not sixteen anymore, and she's only gotten hotter.
"I'll go with you," I tell her happily even though she still hasn't told me where she's going.
Her fingers move up to play with her mouth as she mumbles, "No, it's... Um..." Then she mumbles more quietly this time, and I can't understand her. She turns to leave.
No, I think quite clearly. "Wait," I tell her and reach out to grab her wrist as she turns. I will not let this make things weird.
"Graham, I..." She weakly tries to free her wrist.
"I got the rest of the day off, and you don't have to go to work tonight. And...We need to talk." Her eyes look at me in alarm. "Please, Brielle. Don't run away."
"Because that's exactly what it is."
"It's not like I won't come back."
"I would really prefer we talk about this now."
"About what?" she asks with a worried expression.
"Sit on the couch with me, please," I request.
A small pout shows up, and she replies, "All right."
I scowl. Oh. Great, I think with mild sarcasm. She thinks this is a breakup talk.
Bracing herself visibly, she asks, "Then what is it?"
"I had no idea you were in the bathroom this morning before I walked in there."
"I'm sorry! I should've locked the door," she tells me quickly, telling me without saying that she's fretted over this all day.
To stop the fretting, I ask, "Why?"
My tactic works. "Why should I have locked the door?"
"Yeah."
"So that you wouldn't accidentally come in and see me in the shower."
A small smile plays about my lips as I tell her, "I have absolutely no problem with seeing you in the shower."
"Yes, you do because you wanted to do more than just see me in the shower," she says and blushes.
"I would be lying if I said I didn't. What I'm saying is I don't have a problem with it." Bonehead! She's a rape victim, remember?! SHE has a problem with it. I need to help.
She stays quiet, biting her lip. I can tell she really has something she wants to say but is nervous to try.
"Please talk to me, Brielle. I love you. You're breathtaking. I didn't stumble in on you on purpose, but please don't blame me for standing there and admiring you."
"Graham, I'm just so scared!"
"Of me?" I question. I really don't think it's me, but asking that will get the conversation going in the right direction.
"Have I ever done anything to you that you didn't like?" I ask to get her thinking. Before we moved to Eden, we'd made out frequently, and I brought her up and over the edge while both of us still remained fully clothed. I'd thought I'd at least proven to her that it's not supposed to be like it was with that jerk. Ever since we moved here, she's gotten distant.
Going along with my thought, I ask, "Has living with me proven to be too much? Would it help you if you got your own apartment?" No! my heart screams in agony. I'll hate it if she moves out, but if it helps her, I'll endure it.
"Graham, I'm not scared of you exactly," she says, still looking at her lap.
"Then tell me what I can do to help," I tell her, my entire being filling with so much love that I imagine it glowing out the tips of my fingers. She doesn't want to move out. Please let me be right about that. She would've immediately agreed to it if she did.
"When I was in the shower and you saw me, you had this look in your eyes, and I worried I wouldn't be able to stop you."
I know what look she means. I'd fully intended, without thinking it through, to walk into the shower completely clothed so that I could run my hands over her wet body. "I'm sorry that scared you. And as for not being able to stop me, Brielle, I thought you knew you could stop me any time."
Neither of us say a word for a minute or so. I resist the urge to reach out and pull her face back up to me. I want so badly to kiss her right now, as a way to tell her it's okay, but I don't, letting her think.
I feel one of my eyebrows raise as I say, "You're kidding, right?" I smile to let her know I'm teasing. "Yes. I'd been standing there a full minute before you saw me, and I could barely breathe as I watched you."
"What would you have done if I'd not stopped you?" she questions shyly.
I mentally whimper. She wants me to tell her. Oh, maker, this is going to be difficult. How much does she want to know? "You really want to know?"
She looks down again, unsure of herself. "I hate that that happened to me! It's messed me up." She takes a deep breath and stares at the wall in front of her. "Tell me everything, Graham. Don't leave anything out."
"No. Not if it makes you uncomfortable." Absolutely not. I will not have you being afraid of me.
"You're not the bad guy! Tell me what the good guy would do."
I'm not the bad guy. No, I sure as hell am not. But I'm still a guy. "Brielle..." I let saying her name in question convey my discomfort with going forward and telling her what I'd do if she had never had that awful thing happen to her.
"Graham, if it's too much, I promise I'll tell you to stop." Her amazing blue eyes reach mine, begging for something to just be normal in her life for once, and my hardened resolve melts. So many times, I've wanted to tell her what she does to me, but I've held back. Maybe that did more harm than good, gave justification to her uneasiness.
Counting on her holding to her promise, I lean over and say quietly into her ear, "If you didn't stop me, I would've gotten into the shower, not caring I was still fully clothed, and run my hands all over your gorgeous body, the water making it even better. Of course I'd have to kiss you, probably putting both our faces under the spray of the shower head." I pause and gauge her reaction. Her breathing has gotten fast and shallow, but she hasn't asked me to stop.
Telling her what I'd like to do proves difficult, but I like it more than I thought I would. Usually, I'd just do instead of thinking about it, but now that I picture myself in that situation, I can tell her exactly what I'd do.
I watch her breathing, and I want to kiss her just under her ear. "And then I'd kiss your neck." I blissfully kiss her where I want to, slowly and deliberately. She shudders, but I don't think it's in fear. I start kissing her further down her neck, and my hand reaches up to hold her cheek. "Then your perfect chest." I resist the urge to go to second base, not wanting to push her. After all, she only asked me to tell her, not do it. I'm probably pushing it by kissing her like this, but she's not stopping me.
I know what I'd do after that, but I don't think she can handle hearing it. So, I kiss her precious lips.
Surprisingly, she pulls back and asks, "Then what would you do?"
I'm about to spontaneously combust! She asked. I start nudging her to lie down on the couch. Before she rests her head on the arm of the sofa, however, I stop her and kiss her neck and the bit of skin left exposed by the dress. Just TELLING her might make me lose it! I catch my breath as much as I'm able and say, "I'd gently press your back against the wall of the shower and kiss you down your stomach until I'm on my knees in front of you." Her hands make tight fists in my hair. I groan and go to second base. She blessedly sighs, and my blood starts burning in my veins. My voice sounds like a small growl when I continue, "Then I'd hold your hips steady and kiss you...there." I don't get too descriptive at this point because it would be more than I could take.
She lies beneath me now, her dress pushed up from her legs being on either side of me, and I instinctively start moving against her. She makes a little whimpering noise that's so f--king hot that I have an extremely difficult time staying in control and not ripping her clothes off.
Through my fogged brain, I remind myself that this might not be okay with her. "Too much?" I ask simply. She moans and wraps her legs around my hips, letting that be her answer. S---, I think and dive into her mouth. Oh, I have missed this so much! We haven't made out like this since coming here.
My hand travels up her thigh and under her dress, and I go exploring, completely lost in the moment. She makes a noise like she likes what I'm doing, so I push it further.
She's a virgin! I realize with absolute shock. I gasp and think, What? But...
She grabs the back of my neck and pulls herself up to kiss me again. I barely respond as my hand comes out from under her dress, and my eyes open. I thought...
Her eyes open to see my expression. I'm sure my confusion shows on my face.
"What is it?" she asks.
"You-" were raped. "I thought-" you weren't a virgin. Another picture, different from what I'd always sickeningly imagined, forms in my mind, making me want to rip Fred's head from his shoulders. I wince from the pain of what happened to her, and I hold her to me tightly. "Oh, Brielle! Oh, baby, I had no idea that's what happened."
Her hands tightly fist themselves in my shirt. "How did you know?" she asks in a small voice.
"I figured it out," I tell her simply. I want to protect her from the world as I hold her in my arms. My lips gently kiss her forehead, and my hand comes up to stroke her face and hair. I discover tears, and I assume my shirt is wet from them too.
I take a deep breath and tell her quietly, "No one will ever hurt you again."
Click here to go to Chapter 32
So...um okay. He's NOT told her about Courtney and it's been weeks??? This is making him look like he's hiding something and that's not a good thing.
ReplyDeleteIt was bound to happen, him seeing her naked. They've had alternating schedules for a while so he had every reason to believe she was still asleep. I'm glad he made her talk about it instead of letting her run off. She needs to stop running away and she knows that's what she does, her getting pissy about it proved it.
Okay...so um normally I'm pretty good at reading between the lines, but I'm mildly confused. Are you suggesting that Fred did rape her, but it was through the 'backdoor'? Because, yeah that's where my head went when Graham made his discovery.
No, no he hasn't. I know. It does make it look like he's hiding something, and the longer he waits, the worse it will look. He's very, very nervous about doing it, mostly due to her apparently-very-large jealous streak.
DeleteYes, it was! He did think she was still asleep. Glad you're glad he made her talk about it. If he'd let it go and said nothing, he'd only look like her fears were justified.
LOL. Yes, running away is just what she does, and he called her on it.
Yeeeaaahhh....Uh, sorry for the confusion. I didn't want to come out and SAY it, but yes, that's how it happened. I'd tried to hint at it before when she'd started living with the Goths and how Fred had pushed her face down into the mattress. I realize that was easy to miss and even easier to catch what that exactly meant. Since I TRY to keep a clean rating, I wasn't sure how to say it.