Of Being Yours[another way 2] Read Online Free PDF

endearment, but screaming, the instant rush of relief not bringing a warm, snuggly feeling but a weakness in my knees. Will caught me, chuckling, and tossed me onto the bed where Jeff was already sprawled out, recovering.
    We fell asleep, a pile of three bodies and twined limbs in a bed that was perfect for two but clearly too small for three. I woke up after a much too short amount of time asleep with just Will sleeping next to me. Jeff had gone at some point in the night, leaving only glittery sheets as evidence that he’d been there at all.
    I rose and stretched, feeling rather pleased with myself even with the slight uncertainty about the conversation that was surely imminent between Will and myself. Letting him sleep, I headed downstairs to make coffee for us both. The sun was streaming through the kitchen window, making me wince; I took a few painkillers with a pint of water to ward off a hangover that I seemed to have nearly fucked out of my system anyway.
    As the coffee was brewing, I wandered through the house, barefoot and wearing just a pair of boxers, and found myself in the hall, where a sheet of paper had Jeff’s name and number scrawled on it. I turned it over in my hands, half expecting a note or some other message, a whiny, desperate “call me” or something, but nothing. He was cute and clearly up for a repeat if we ever wanted it, but I couldn’t imagine it would happen again. I put the paper back on the table and went back to the kitchen to pour the coffee.
    With two mugs in one hand and a plate of toast in the other, I headed back to bed and left Will’s mug on his nightstand to let the smell of breakfast wake him up. It didn’t take long.
    “Mmm?” he hummed and rolled over in bed, leaned in to me and kissed the first bit of skin he found, which happened to be my belly.
    “Morning,” I said softly.
    He propped himself up in bed and reached for his coffee, taking a few restorative sips before leaning in for a kiss.
    “How are you?” I asked tentatively.
    “Fine,” he said. “Since when are we talking to each other like one of us is a cancer patient?”
    “Because I don’t know how you’re feeling about last night,” I said, feeling decidedly touchy.
    “I’m fine,” he said. “Great. It was awesome. Very hot. Do you want to do it again?”
    “Not particularly,” I admitted.
    “Good. Me either. Let’s check it off our bucket list and move on.”
    I laughed genuinely now. “Okay. Thanks. I love you.”
    “I love you too, you idiot.”
    Despite his blasé dismissal of our activities the night before, Will was decidedly sulky for the rest of the morning, something I attributed to a hangover. Although I’d had a fair amount to drink myself, I wasn’t suffering like he was, and I decided it was better to let him wallow in his own misery rather than join him in it.
    For lunch I made a pile of sandwiches and took them out on the deck with a pitcher of iced tea. I was happy to sit back and enjoy the rare sun for a half hour before finishing off the chores that needed to be done. Apparently Will still wasn’t up to conversation.
    I started to stack up the dishes again when he caught my wrist.
    “Were you going to tell me about this?” Will asked, setting the note with Jeff’s phone number on the table between us.
    I shrugged. “I didn’t think it was a big deal. I’m not going to call him.”
    “Oh.” His tone was forced—casual—making me painfully aware that the nonissue was now definitely an issue.
    “Will, if I wanted to hide it from you, do you think I would have just left it out for you to find? I found it, read it, and couldn’t be bothered to do anything with it, so I left it on the table.”
    “If you want to do it again, it’s something we need to talk about now,” he said. “Not after you go and do it behind my back.”
    “What the fuck?” I demanded. “I’ve never given you reason to think I’d cheat. Why are you bringing it up now?”
    “You cheated