~Joan~
The ideas I thought I had coming suddenly stopped. It was like my mind had hit a wall. And that was one of the many reasons I was sulking around the house in a foul mood.
Rhoda had asked me countless times if there was a problem. I’d told her I was okay —well, partially.
I stared at my laptop screen like it was the root of all my problems. Turns out it was true: Aaron was my muse.
I hated that. I really did.
Because he was a cheat, and I’d been stupid enough to get involved with him. I hated men who cheated. After what my last boyfriend had done, I’d promised myself I’d never get romantically involved with another man. Until Aaron.
We weren’t an item. We’d just slept together once. And, sure, he brought me to an o****m a few days ago, but now I felt filthy.
The thought of bei
