Accidental forever (hs au)

3.

Who the hell was I? No idea, but I liked her.

I was finally doing all the things I was once too unsure to, and there was no better feeling than removing myself from the burden of my own judgement. This Eve was a better version of the old one, and I was enjoying her so far.

"Holy shit," Paula hysterically replied once I told her all about my Friday night and Saturday dawn, "You said you were finally gonna let yourself loose and you truly did," she laughed, "I'm proud of you!"

I shook my head, playing the matter down, a smile on my lips. My first and only relationship lasted for five years, but even though my friends always warned me about it, I didn't realise it was so toxic until I was finally out of it. Now, four months later, I was single and ready to enjoy myself. Sleeping around with the guy from the club was just the first step.

"Wait. Don't get your hopes up, though, because I'm not seeing him again," I clarified, before my friend could suggest something different. The kettle on my countertop went off, meaning the hot water was ready, which I poured on both mine and Paula's cup. October chilly Sunday's were the start of indefinite weekends full of indoor plans with friends and family, sheltering from the cold. I was so ready for hot chocolate and movie marathons season.

"But he gave you his number!," she stated, "He definitely wants to see you again."

"Oh, no. No way. I'm not gonna call him. Isn't that how a one night stand works? You sleep with someone you won't ever see again." I handed her her cup of tea, then headed out of the kitchen and into the living room where we would be more comfortable discussing my emerging sex life.

"Ah, c'mon, Evie!", she replied, following me behind, "From what you've told me, he seems fun," she then rose her eyebrows a few times, a smirk on her face.

"Remind me to never tell you anything ever again, please," I rolled my eyes, throwing myself on the sofa. I then took a sip from the cup between my hands, without realising it was too hot to drink. I might had or had not been too absent reminiscing about the night with him, trying to keep count of how many times he made me cum, to even prevent myself from getting my mouth burnt.

Seven? Eight maybe? The fact that they were too many for me to remember makes me blush even now. Four times on his bed, one on the floor, another on the sink of his bathroom, against his bedroom wall; oh, and two in the shower, under the running water... Nine. If my calculations were correct, those were nine times we had sex... And he made me cum every single one. As unbelievable as that sounded, I had hickeys that could be used as evidence, which, by the way, I was trying my best to hide from my best friend. I didn't need another hysterical reaction.

"What's his name?," she asked. I couldn't give her a proper answer because I, in fact, didn't remember. It was not that I had so much to drink or was too cool to keep it. I was simply bad at names. "Is it Harry?"

Harry! Yes, that was the name that couldn't come to my mind the day before!

"Um-hmm," I nodded, "Why?" By the time I realised, she was already texting him.

Round two?, was what the message said.

Oh, Lord. I was ready to kill Paula.