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things done before bed. It was already late as it was.

“Some people go to a bar on their day off,” I muttered to myself. “I stay home and clean. I am a boring, boring human being.”

The thoughts of Hannah were too strong, and the realization that shutting myself off from the world to focus on cleaning supplies on my day off was rather sad, I pulled out my phone. It was streaming a podcast that I was only halfway listening to, and I paused it to pull open the contacts. I knew it could continue to stream while I typed out a text to Hannah, but I wanted her to have my full attention, even if it was just words on a screen.

It was the second time I had texted her that day, and neither got a response. I went back to cleaning and had finished putting the room back together when I glanced at the clock. It was nearly ten, and Hannah never responded. I tried not to let it get to me, but I was bummed. I guessed I thought even in friendship, with one mishap, she would have texted back.

Moving into the kitchen to grab a beer, I heard a knock on my door. Immediately my senses piqued, and my eyes darted to the stand next to the door. It had my keys in a bowl on top, but inside it had a hammer. It wasn’t my most sophisticated weapon, but experience I’d rather not dwell on told me that it was extremely useful in a pinch.

I walked to the door and very gently opened the drawer. The wooden handle of the hammer stuck out, and I put one hand on it while I peered through the window. When I saw who it was, I shoved the drawer shut and yanked at the lock. Hannah was on my porch, and she was crying.

I swung the door open, and she fell into my arms, sobbing. I pulled her inside, shutting the door and locking it behind her, guiding her to the couch where I sat her down.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re okay. Let me get you some tissues. And water. Do you want water?” I asked. She nodded, and I ran back to the kitchen. When I came back, her tears had slowed, and she blew her nose into the tissues and took a long gulp of the water. “What’s going on?” I asked.

“Ethan,” she said, and my heart twisted. I knew that name. What could he have done?

“What about Ethan? Did he find you?”

She nodded her head, and a fresh round of sobs came out, though this time they were more controlled. She was shaking, though, and I put the situation together quickly. Something more than Ethan arriving had happened. A sudden overwhelming sense of protection coursed through me.

“He showed up on my doorstep. I told him he had to leave, but he wouldn’t go. He tried to block my path, but I pushed past him. Thank God I locked the door,” she said. It all came out almost in one dump of words.

I reached forward and pulled her into me, and she sunk into my chest as we sat back into the couch. I held her, and she clasped my shirt, balling it up in one hand as her tears dried on the fabric. Slowly, her breathing began to return to something resembling normalcy, and she curled her legs up onto the couch, turning her head so she was looking up at me. One teardrop still hung in the corner of her eye, and I used my thumb to wipe it away.

Time froze. For a moment there were infinite possibilities, and I had no idea what I should do next. Leaning into my instincts and the fact that I would never be able to live with myself if I didn’t try, I leaned my face down closer to hers. She didn’t move away, didn’t flinch. Instead, her eyes closed and her lips rose, and I met them with my own.

The kiss was tender and sweet, much like our first. But this time there was a hunger behind it that hadn’t been there before. From her. A desire, a need for more. Slowly, she sat up, our lips never parting more than for a second so we could take in a breath. The kiss turned into a passionate embrace, and suddenly our hands were everywhere, ripping at clothes. My shirt was pulled over my head in a hurry and tossed away. Normally it would bother me to have clothes lying around, but for once, I found myself not caring at all.

Her shirt was next, and as it was torn off her body, I broke our embrace for just a moment to marvel at her exquisite body. Heaving, perfect breasts were held aloft by her pink bra, and I reached for the clip in the center of her chest. Our eyes locked as I opened it and it fell away. Her round, heavy breasts tumbled out, and I felt my stomach tighten and my cock harden even more than it already was. The bra slipped off her shoulders, and she held it out to fall off the edge of the couch.

“Where is your bedroom?” she asked.

Silently, I held out my hand, and she took it, and giddily we jumped off the couch, heading down the hall. She went inside before me, and I shut the door behind us. The lights were off except for the bathroom night-light, and it cast the entire room in a dark blue glow that took a moment to adjust to. When my eyes finally did adjust, I could see the outline of Hannah’s body sitting on my bed. The skin of her shoulder glowed white from the light behind it, and the outline of her breast was barely visible.

I had only worn running pants to clean in, so there wasn’t a lot of wasted motion to remove them as I walked toward her.

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