Chapter 10

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I sat next to Harry on the bed as I grabbed my own clothes and began to put them on.

"Let's see," I said as I pulled my arms through the sleeves of my shirt. "Where should I begin?"

Harry just stared at me, knowing I wasn't expecting an answer, so I continued.

"When I turned twenty-one, something in me changed. I had been a straight A student. I hadn't had too many boyfriends, or even dates. I was still a virgin. I was going to school and living on campus, but never went to parties or anything. Then I met Justine. She was a year older than I was, and sat next to me in a Creative Writing class I was taking. She seemed so cool and together. The kind of person I wished I was."

Again, Harry just looked at me, saying nothing.

"Anyway, we started hanging out, sometimes just the two of us, sometimes with a friend or two of hers. We'd go to bars, clubs. Mikado's was one of our regulars. I drank a lot. It made me feel uninhibited. Justine would always find some guy to hook up with. I would flirt, but the thought of going home with some stranger didn't appeal to me, no matter how drunk I was. Until one night this bartender at a club started flirting with me. Actually, he was flirting with both of us, but I really enjoyed the attention. His name was Mark. He was incredibly good looking, like you."

I smirked to hopefully ease the tension. Harry gave a half smirk back.

"As the night grew on, he was really coming on to me, and I pretty much spent the rest of my time at the bar with him while Justine was dancing. Finally he asked me to go home with him but I told him no. The next weekend we went back, and I was really excited that he remembered me. Again, he was flirting with me, giving me free drinks and drinking himself, which I know you're not supposed to do. By the end of the night, we were both wasted and this time when he asked me to leave with him I said yes."

I heard Harry clear his throat and felt him adjust himself on the bed, but I sat still, looking at my hands.

"The next day I had a massive hangover and felt like shit. I didn't expect Mark to ever call, but he did. We started going out, but always to bars and clubs. When he was working I'd show up and take my seat at the end of the bar and drink with him until closing. We'd barely been dating for three weeks I think, when he told me he loved me. We had just gotten home from the club and were having sex on a drunken high."

"Hmm," Harry murmured as he nodded. I could tell he knew where this was going.

"It was the most amazing feeling. Not the sex," I added as I eyed Harry, "but hearing someone tell you they love you in the height of passion."

I paused as I swallowed and took a deep breath. "After a while I noticed that was the only time he would say it. Never in public. Not while I was sitting at the bar, or even the next morning. It was only when we were having sex, and always when he was drunk. I finally confronted him about it when he was sober."

"What did you say?" Harry asked.

"Well, I started just by telling him I loved him. I think it caught him off guard. So I asked him why he never said it unless we we'd been drinking and fucking. He told me he was getting his rocks off and it just felt good to say it."

"Bloody hell."

"He said...he said he loved my pussy, but not really me."

"Fucking wanker," Harry voiced, shaking his head. Then he took my hand and squeezed it. "Tisa, you have to know that's not what I mean. I love —"

I quieted him by placing my finger on his lips. "Shhh," I said. "There's more."

Harry sighed and looked at me intently as I continued.

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