Love and Pixie Dust- A Bay Yanlış Reimagining.

When Bigfoot Got the News

Ezgi

I'm not running away. Who said I was running away?" I said with a laugh and made a dismissive noise.

"Your lost shoe tells the tale, Cinderella," he said drily.

"I'm not feeling well. The flu, I think. I'm highly contagious."

He made a skeptical noise which should not have sounded sexy but it did. Curse him!

"There's someone that would really like to see you again," he said and his low, deep voice was making me throb in places that had no business throbbing.

"Omigod! Are you seriously referring to your penis? Listen here buster! I'm not looking to pick up where we left off. So if you think I'm going to sleep with you again..."

"I meant your fish," he interrupted my tirade calmly. "Remember Goldie? But it's really nice to know you're thinking about my penis," he said and I could literally hear the wicked smile in his voice. "I'm curious as to why you wouldn't want to pick up where we left off though. I'm still partially deaf in one ear from your lusty screams." His sexy teasing voice drizzled over me like thick honey. I shook off his sexual sorcery.

"You conceited, cocky, arrogant, perverted, knuckle-dragging..." I spluttered in outrage.

He made an appreciative noise. "I missed the dirty talk, baby," he cooed in my ear.

I made an enraged animal noise and he laughed uproariously.

"So, is tomorrow good for you?" He interjected abruptly.

I narrowed my eyes at his audacity. He was a manipulative evil man and to my everlasting shame, I wanted to say yes. I wanted to go back to that hotel room and have my way with him over and over again and forget this awful reality. But I couldn't afford to fall into his dastardly dimples again. I needed time. Time to compose my confession. Time to get used to the idea that once I confessed, I'd probably never see him again. My palms started to sweat and I took the coward's way out

"Maybe. I'll let you know. I have to go now. Bye."

I hung up the phone and stared at it willing it to ring again and hating myself for it.

********

I tossed and turned restlessly, unable to fall asleep. I kept stressing out about my upcoming job interview tomorrow and about how time was running out and I'd have to tell my mother soon before things became more evident. I tried really hard not to think about how I'd raise a baby by myself. I tried not to think of the baby period and then I felt terrible for my ambivalence. I tried not to think of labor and the horrid birth video I'd watched. But overthinking was my curse. I buried a frustrated scream into my pillow.

It didn't help my insomnia when the asshole neighbor came home during the wee hours and began to bang on the drums like he was possessed with the spirit of Tommy Lee. I got up and looked around for my robe. I intended to march over there and give that inconsiderate ass a piece of my mind. But by the time I found the robe, the commotion had stopped.

I got back in bed and had finally settled in when my phone vibrated on the nightstand. I gawked in disbelief at the incoming message from Mr. Wrong.

What are you wearing?

My mouth hung open at the sheer audacity of him. I will not answer, I thought. It would just encourage him.

I looked down at my ratty t-shirt and shorts combo and my thumbs flew across the keys before I could think better of it.

I'm wearing a thick flannel long-sleeved gown that buttons up to the neck with hundreds of teeny tiny pearl buttons. I paired it with a chastity belt and a lace cap.