I frantically put myself back together again and race downstairs. We work together to get everything put away and engage in small talk, she asks what ...ook me so long to come downstairs. To which I reply “I just had to finish typing an e-mail”. She begins that ask what we should have for supper, I start to snicker for two reasons; one - she has no idea that I am about to go to a hotel near the airport to fuck the brains out of my beauty. Two - she obviously has forgotten that I play hockey every. “Though I do need some clean clothes.”She started walking slowly around the living room, looking at the dorm-room style mess I had going on here and there. It didn’t seem to bother her much; more like she was used to hanging around places like mine. “You’re not? You kinda smell like a few too many vodka cranberries, though.” I countered. I’m not sure what answer back I was hoping for at this point.“Yeah, so I had one or two. Can’t a girl have fun?” Cheeky. I rushed to my room and started. More

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