I'm dancing and laughing with Sammy, and I'm slightly tipsy. The type of tipsy where you would make bad decisions like Phoebe would say. The latter is working the room as if she's already an employee at The Phoenix, being her charming self. Maybe Sammy and I should have done this a long time ago. The mix of alcohol, music, and bodies gyrating to the beat is oddly stress-relieving. Those nights we were so holed up in our tiny apartment should have been spent club-hopping and dancing our worries away. Or it's just a great remedy for running away. I feel him before I see him, that electrifying shiver that runs up my spine when he looks at me is present. I don't bother looking where he is because I know he will find me. He finds me even if I don't want to be found. I'm pissed off at him, too. Not even a fucking text message to make sure I'm okay. After he just spoke some bullshit about us getting married. I know nothing about relationships, but I know that is not how you would treat

I don't know how long Alessandro and I lay like that afterward, with him still inside me, still pulsating and me still quivering. I've probably torn some of his hair from his scalp. I cry out when he eventually withdraws from me, but he hushes me and kisses me slow, soft butterfly kisses down my neck and collarbone, over my shoulder to my upper arm. "I'm sorry it had to hurt." He whispers in my ear. "Yeah, I don't think I'm gonna do that again." It was both brilliant and petrifying. He lifts his head to look down at me with a playful smirk. "Oh, we're definitely doing that again." He kisses me on the nose. "And again." Then a soft kiss on my lips. "And again." An endearing kiss on my forehead. "And again." He pushes himself up on his arms and then pulls me up too, a meek protest leaving me. "I made you all dirty, now I have to clean you up." I am dirty indeed, my thighs are completely wet, so I let him carry me into the bathroom and straight into the shower, dozens of

I look like a certified fucking cheerleader. There's a ribbon in my hair, I'm pretty sure I didn't even wear a ribbon when I was a toddler. "This is so exciting!" Phoebe is practically jumping with energy as we're standing in line at the ticket box. "I haven't been to a game since high school." That makes me feel slightly better for wearing the stupid outfit I'm sporting. This was the goal, to make Phoebe feel better, although her life seems pretty great nowadays. We get our tickets and Phoebe makes us stand in the concession line to get snacks. Now I know why I don't like fucking sports, the stadiums are always crowded, I wonder if these people go to their classes with the same vigor. "Oh my god, sissy! We've got the best seats in the house!" Phoebe beams when we make our way to our seats. "Did you give this guy a blowjob when you tutored him?" I hope nobody heard that. I have to say the atmosphere is electric in the stadium, our side is covered in red and white, and people are

Alessandro Moretti has a lot of surprises up his sleeve. I've heard a lot of stories about men succumbing to weaknesses and how sex makes them lose focus. But not Alessandro Moretti. He must have the will of steel, because he's been torturing me in bed every single night without giving me what I want, satisfying me by making me come, but denying me the ultimate pleasure of himself. All so I can move in with him. He withholds to receive the ultimate prize. It's fucking brilliant because I'm ten seconds from throwing my meager belongings in a bag and begging him to move in with him. "Your sister hasn't texted me back." I almost offer Kevin my coffee just to cheer him up. Almost, but I don't, because I'm extremely sexually frustrated and in need of all the help I can get. "You texted her?" I ask dumbly. I know he texted her because she came running out of her bedroom screaming like a banshee, letting the whole house know. "Yeah, like Saturday morning already." He looks dumbfound

Sammy is in love. I should be over the moon for her, but I've got a gloomy feeling in my gut that doesn't want to go away. It's all Alessandro's fault. I was okay before I met him. Dead inside, but okay. I didn't care about sex and the male body or spending time with someone. I had Phoebe, and I had Sammy, and that was more than enough for me. But he just had to barrel his way into my life, make me want him, make me trust him. Now, all I'm getting is scraps of his time and attention. He just wants everything, but what is he giving in return? He can take all of this material stuff. What use is it if the person doesn't come with it? "And he's so funny!" Sammy gushes on. "I've never met someone like him!" I smile and nod at her, so I don't look like a jealous asshole, even though I am. Evan is a busy guy. He owns the biggest social media networks in the world, but he's making time to wine and dine Sammy and spend real time with her. Not dinners, all for show. I see Kevin waiting f