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What Really Happened: Part III
An R.L. Mathewson Chronicle
Darrin’s Side of the Story…
The night that it all began all those years ago…
“I’m hungry,” Darrin grumbled as he tossed the remote on the couch cushion next to him so that he could rub his hands down his face with the hopes that the small movement would somehow give him the energy to stay awake.
“Me, too,” Marybeth said next to him as she laid down on her side and laid her legs across his, using him to get more comfortable as she released a small yawn and curled up, “I’ll take Chinese food. Thanks.”
“Why are you telling me?” he asked absently as he sat back and placed his hand on her knee, using any excuse to touch her, which in his book made him fucking pathetic, but what else was he supposed to do when the woman that he loved only saw him as the pain in the ass brother that she never really wanted.
It made him feel really fucking special, he thought dryly as he gave in to the need to gently caress her knee with his thumb.
God, he was fucking pathetic.
“Because you’re going to order the food and go pick it up. Thanks,” she said around another yawn as she reached down and picked up the pillow that she’d used last night when she’d crashed on his couch and made herself more comfortable.
“Yeah, I’m really not,” he said, deciding to use their exhaustion as an excuse to hold her.
He laid down on his side behind her, loving the fact that she shifted forward to make room for him, and curled his body around hers, promising his needy cock a cold shower if it misbehaved and gave him away.
“You really are,” she said she placed her arm over his rested over her side and began absently tracing shapes on his arm.
“I’m really not.”
“Would you like to place a bet on this?” she asked with a sleepy little sigh as she settled back against him, putting his ability to control his cock to the test.
“Loser buys dinner?”
“Sure,” he said as he struggled to stay awake.
When she didn’t answer, he stopped fighting and let his eyes close as he told himself that this was enough. He wished he could believe that, but he didn’t. It would never be enough until she was his, but every day, about a thousand times a day, he told himself this lie, hoping that it would help him get through one more day.
But in the back of his mind, he knew that it would never be enough.
He wasn’t sure that he could keep bullshitting himself for much longer. God, he loved her, he thought as he tried to ignore the ache in chest and gave in to the need to press a kiss against the back of her neck. When she settled back against him so that there was no space between them, he nearly groaned.
“Goodnight,” he whispered, closing his eyes as he promised himself that one day things would change.
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