I wipe myself clean with the last of the Kleenex and stuff that mess at the bottom of the small garbage can at the side of my bed. I zip up and try to slow my breathing down. I promise myself not to do it again for another two days. Maybe not two days, but at least until tonight. I need a glass of water. I need Alistair’s body, mouth, skin. I need to stop jerking off three times a day.
My mother knocks on my door. “Ryde? Can I come in? Are you decent?”
I am, but my thoughts never are. “Yeah, come in.” I make sure I’ve left no evidence of my little self-serve marathon.
She enters but stays in the doorway. “Your dad is taking a nap with the girls, but if they’re better, we were thinking of going out to dinner. You know, just him and me. Do you mind babysitting?”
“No, I don’t mind.” Maybe
