one sin.

47) Beware Angry GFs

I spend the night at Layne's, scared to leave her alone again. I leave early enough to get back into my own house and get ready for school. Not that it matters if I go or not.

I'm distracted and fidgety all morning, my ugly caffeine consumption habits rearing its ugly.

When I roll up to Layne's apartment, she doesn't look much better. She's quiet as she climbs into my truck offering me a dry, "Hey."

"Hey," I kiss her lightly on the cheek and pull away from the curb. I eye her observantly, noticing how lazily put together she is. A loose fitting t-shirt (read: my t-shirt), and baggy sweats (also mine). I can tell she didn't even bother with wearing a bra.

"Stop looking at me like that," she catches me staring, "I'm fine."

I laugh dryly, "By who's standards?"

"Excuse me?" She's caught off guard by my response.

"You called me crying at work. That's not okay. I know you hurt yourself--"

"Used to---" she refutes.

"Can you look me in the eye and tell me that?" I press.

She looks away, "You aren't being fair right now."

"I'm trying to look out for my girlfriend, who I love by the way," I sigh, trying to calm down, "I'm going out of town Friday, I just want to be sure you'll be okay. I don't like that every time I leave you I think it'll be the last time I see you."

She ignores everything else I've said. "Right, your competition," she spits, "Isn't Wren going?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" I deflect. When Graves was picking who to take, she'd picked the best speakers and most personable in the class. It wasn't my fault me and Wren were included in that. And it also wasn't my fault that she was a homophobic piece of shit. "You could've gone too, had you let me done the talking."

"You? You weren't going to do anything but make it worse," she scoffs, "I dropped out for you. I was just trying to make sure you still went."

What?  I try to make sense of what she's saying, "So you wanted me to go but you're mad that I'm going?"

"It's not about the trip!" she flips, "I feel like you're pushing me away and I don't like it."

Was she really trying to turn this on me?

"How am I pushing you away?" I'm beyond frustrated, "I spend every free moment I have with you?"

"You even don't touch me anymore!" she screams.  

I raise an eyebrow, "Because all you seem to want me for is sex! You don't talk to me anymore!" I slam my hand on my steering wheel, "Why are you insisting about making this about me?"

She goes quiet for the rest of the ride, her back turned to me. I tentatively reach for her, stroking her thigh lightly. She covers my wandering hand with her own and I smirk, "You said I don't touch you enough, right?"

She shoots me a confused look, but moves her hand and I slide it carefully into her sweats, gently feeling her. She gasps, grabbing my arm again, only this time I don't stop. She stops resisting and relaxes, soft moans falling from her lips.

"KJ!" She seizes and then relaxes her breathing labored, "Oh my God."

I causally reach into the glove compartment, fetching a napkin, and wiping off my hand.

"Are you happy now?" We pull into the parking lot.

"Shut up" she grumbles, realizing that any complaint about me is now made void. She asked and I answered. I ask and--