Hendrix
“Good morning," I called out, walking into the kitchen, and heading straight for the coffee machine. It was late, way past twelve when I woke up to an empty bed and cold sheets.
Silence greeted me.
Beau was there, sitting at the kitchen island eating some kind of noodle soup. Beside her bowl was a bottle of hot sauce and a cut lime, which I know I didn't buy.
Did not look appetizing at all.
“Are you going to ignore me?"
Nothing. Not a peep.
What I got instead was her rising and placing her half-eaten concoction in the sink. Her ass encased in a pair of skin-tight yoga pants was all I saw while she walked past me and out the door.
Won't deny that my eyes ate her up. That my mouth watered. But past all that, I was pissed at her for ignoring me.
Keeping me at bay.
I followed
