I wake up with a start and for a moment I’m not sure where I am. It’s dark and too warm and a dream of Bradley sleeping beside me lingers like a ghost, his hands phantoms on my hips and waist. Then I remember Jeffrey, I remember the smug smile on Bradley’s face as he looked up and saw me watching them, I remember dark, bony hands encircling Bradley’s hard d**k and the way his eyes slipped closed in pleasure and I bury my head in the pillow as if to snuff out the images. I don’t need this, none of it.
The doorbell rings—that must be what woke me up, someone downstairs, what time is it? Pulling the blankets down just enough to peek out at the clock, I notice it’s not yet ten PM. I slept that long? Great, now I won’t be able to get back to sleep and I’ll paint into the night, I’ll have a cle
