Unexpected Mate

The Morning After

Alex lay in her bed that night, cursing herself as the biggest i***t to ever live.

She could have brought that pretty All-American boy back here and had him f**k her brains out until she forgot all about…the man whose name she was going to stop saying, even in her head.

She could have pushed through, had s*x with him, and doubtless put an end to this crazy obsession.

“He’s just a dream,” Alex said aloud to her dark room, disgusted.

Her dark room had no response, and Alex seethed quietly for several minutes before asking, “Am I supposed to be celibate or something?”

Still no answer.

Alex didn’t think she could become a nun. She didn’t really believe in any of that stuff, and she didn’t think nuns were supposed to be having hot, sweaty dream s*x, either. She was pretty sure their celibacy wasn’t just a technicality.

Who else was celibate? Were spinsters still a thing?

Spinster Robinson. She could learn to bake and hand out cookies and pies to the neighborhood. Maybe learn to play piano and then teach the neighborhood children.

Except she didn’t know any of her neighbors, hated baking, and despite three years of band in middle school, couldn’t read sheet music to save her life.

She wasn’t set out to be a spinster, either.

“I’m having s*x next time,” Alex announced. And then, because she felt ridiculous talking to the darkness around her, she stubbornly closed her eyes and willed herself to sleep.

“So…” Staci asked. “How was last night?”

“What?” Alex asked blearily.

“Well, the guy was already gone when I got home, but you’ve definitely got that s*x haze,” Staci said. “Must have been pretty good.

Alex wasn’t a prude. It wouldn’t be the first time she and Staci had shared details about their partners over the breakfast table. Lunch table, in this case, Alex realized as she looked at the clock.

But… “I don’t really want to talk about it,” Alex said.

Staci’s face immediately shifted to concern. “He didn’t…hurt you?” she asked hesitantly.

Alex shook her head vehemently. “No. Nothing like that. Jason is really nice.”

Maybe, she amended to herself. She didn’t actually know. Couldn’t admit to Staci that she’d left Jason at the bar. And that the “s*x haze” Staci sensed was from the ridiculously hot dreams that had trapped her from the moment she’d fallen asleep last night. Alex felt thoroughly used, like the dreams were real, like everything she’d felt last night was more than just a dream, but she’d woken up alone in her bed, and despite that haze even she had seen on her face that morning, the scratches she thought she should have on her back, and the stubble burn she should surely have between her legs, weren’t there.

She was unmarked, at least where anyone could see.

Staci still looked concerned, but didn’t ask any more questions. “Want lunch, or did you drink too much?”

“Lunch would be great,” Alex said with forced enthusiasm. She’d never even finished that first Long Island. “How was French Fry Dave?”

“He found a pizza place that was still open at 3am,” Staci said, clearly pleased. “I’d say we had a good night.”