“I know but it’s so loud at your place with all the guys and I have a ton of papers to do and it’ll be a lot easier for me to do them at my place,” I protested, I really did not want to go to his place. He sighed, frustrated with me, and I felt even smaller under his gaze.
“I’m going to be honest with you Lee, I really don’t want to go to your place,” he stated simply. “I feel like we’re always going to your place and you won’t come to mine and give the guys a chance. It’s not fair,” he told me, making me feel guilty.
It was true that we often went back home to my apartment but I felt that we just as often went to his place. The guys were nice, never serious and always looking to have fun and party but nice all the same. The only problem was that when they were around Chris, Chris just wanted to party with them and I either got no work done or ended up alone in Chris’s room while he partied with his friends downstairs or at a bar. There was no point in going over if I actually wanted to get any work done.
“Chris, I really have a lot of work to get done,” I started, trying to get my strength up. “I’m sorry but I really need to go home to get it done, you don’t have to stay over if you don’t want but I have to stay home,” I told him, holding strong. He rolled his eyes at me, one of my biggest pet peeves.
“Fine, I’ll stay at your place tonight,” he groaned. “But next week we’re staying at mine.” I couldn’t guarantee that I’d be able to stay at his place, it all depended on my workload.
“Fine,” I agreed, just to appease him for the moment. He drove us the short distance to my apartment and got out; rushing up the steps to my apartment before I even made it out of his car. Waiting impatiently, he tapped his foot for me to unlock the front door. I unlocked it and followed him up the flight of steps to my door.
“What do you want for dinner?” I asked, opening up the mini fridge to see the scarce amount of contents it held. “Does pasta sound okay?” I called to him from the kitchen as he lay on my bed watching something on TV.
“Nah, I want pizza,” he shouted out. I didn’t want to order takeout; I’d already spent too much money last night. Especially with having had to take an unplanned cab home. I didn’t want to splurge on pizza when I could easily make us a nice pasta with everything I already had here.
“I’m trying to save money Chris, is there anything I can make us instead?” I asked walking into the bedroom where he was sprawled out watching a football game.
“Babe, I really want pizza,” he stated firmly. “We’re already staying at your place when I don’t want to, the least you could do is get me some pizza,” he said making me feel guilty and like I owed it to him.
“Fine,” I sighed, giving in and made the call to the pizza restaurant for delivery, ordering one pepperoni pizza, Chris’s favorite. I’d always loved Hawaiian but Chris thought the idea of pineapple on pizza was disgusting. So we never got it and always got the same pepperoni pizza. I worked on my paper until the buzzer rang that the delivery man was here with our pizza.
“Can you get it?” I asked Chris, who still lay in the same position watching the game. I hated to stop in the middle of a train of thought and risk losing it completely.
“Babe, they’re in the final quarter,” he whined.
Ugh, I wanted to groan at him, instead I got up and buzzed the delivery man up and went to the door to pay him. I brought the pizza in and only then did Chris get up to grab a slice and eat in my bed without a plate or napkin. It was a habit of his that I hated. I often woke up the next morning with crumbs in my bed. To my disgust, on more than one occasion, I had woken up with broken chips stuck on my face. I didn’t bother saying anything, I had told him enough over the year how much it bothered me and he had yet to change his ways and I knew he probably never would.
I finished one of my papers and decided to take a break for the night. I got up, stretched, and then went to join Chris on the bed, ready to relax and enjoy the rest of the night with him. I looked at my nightstand to check the time and spotted the folded up napkin with Axel’s phone number written on it. I was thankful it was turned upside down and Chris hadn’t noticed it. I guiltily snuck it into the drawer of my nightstand.
I cuddled up next to Chris, trying to forget about Axel. I kissed Chris’ neck just to distract myself. I was super horny. It had been over a week since we’d last had sex and seeing Axel had rekindled memories that left me thirsting and aching to be touched. I nuzzled my face into his neck, only for him to push me away.
“Babe, please, I’m exhausted,” he told me, the same thing I’d heard so many times before. I knew then that I wouldn’t be getting any sex at all this week. It was tough. Often, I felt lucky if I got sex more than twice a month, if I got it at all. I found it strange that Chris never wanted to have sex with me and was always too exhausted. It made me wonder if I wasn’t any good and it
