He knows I used it.
He knows I used it!
Then it hits me. The review! Praying I didn’t post it, I scramble to my laptop and see not only is it published, but there are seventeen comments. The last one made by an unmistakable culprit.
Pleasure-Ranger12
Did it ever occur to any of you that it’s not the womanizer’s fault he’s got such a bad rep? That the title was slapped on him because of his performance alone and not the totality of his makeup? What if the womanizer has the best of intentions for his future model and thinks the less risky model is a douche who can’t give the woman what she needs? Contrary to popular belief, not all models are made the same. Take a chance, goodconsumer90.
Covering my mouth with my hand, I read the comment over and over. Troy not only knows I masturbated, but that I then debated with trolls on the internet about my attraction to him.
I want to slice open my mattress and crawl inside.
It’s worse than being picture of the week in the People of Walmart.
Standing in a scalding shower, I bury my face in my hands as R&B drifts through the house, and I hear the rustling of pans.
How can I face him?
And why is Dante here? The woman in me is mortified, but the mother in me overrules as I quickly towel off to see why Dante came home early.
Avoiding Troy’s eyes, I pour some juice for Dante while Troy whisks some eggs.
“Okay, what happened?”
“They were mean to me, so Troy came and picked me up.”
I pull him to stand in front of me, kneeling down, my heart breaking.
“They were mean to you, baby?”
“Yeah, but I don’t care because I’m going to find some friends who get me. I have to find my tribe.”
I look over to Troy, who smiles down at Dante.
“That’s…good advice.”
“Troy wants to take me someplace special and spend the night. Is that okay?”
I look over to Troy and see he’s watching me carefully as he cracks another egg.
“Yes. I guess that would be fine. But after breakfast. How about pancakes?”
“Troy’s making French toast.”
“But your favorite is pancakes.”
“Nothing wrong with French toast,” Troy taunts. “Some people would say it’s a better breakfast model.”
“Pancakes are just as delicious,” I argue.
“I disagree.” He bites his lips as he flips a piece of toast in the pan.
“Are you really going to do this?” I ask him, standing, as Dante takes his seat.
Troy turns to me, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why don’t we let Dante decide?”
“Don’t bring him into this, you weirdo.”