21 Bronson

reread the same line on the email for the fifth consecutive time in a row, then place the phone down, irritated with the fact that I cannot for the life of me, concentrate.

Nicole.

The only thing that has been on my mind all day, has been Nicole. I woke, immediately feeling relief that she had indeed taken my opportunity in the wee hours of this morning. Only to have that feeling vanish when I went and checked on her, opening the door and peering down, watching as she slept.

Her blonde hair was fanned over the pillow in an angelic way, her eyes fluttered as if she were fighting her safety even in her deepest slumber, and her thigh, somehow escaping the comforter of the bed at some point, was smooth and creamy. I had to step back, slamming the door with a loud thrust, grateful when she didn’t stir moments later.