As I rode down, the biggest question I pondered was how long, exactly, had I wanted him?Patrick didn’t call me, and he didn’t answer my two pitiful calls, either. Yet again, it appeared he ditched me.I went about my business, desperate to drive out the memories of his tongue, the exact shape and texture of his cock, the feeling of him making love to me and the horrendous guilt which continued to simmer in my stomach. Nothing I tried worked and I became dreadfully distracted and irritable. I was haunted day and night, but especially at night.Chloe and I only talked on the phone once. It was a short chat. She complained about work, asked me how I was doing, and then had to go. She was testing out another date.“Are you okay?” she asked me before hanging up. “You sound off.”“I’m fine,” I said, not sounding it at all, even to my own ears.What else could I say? I sound off because I fucked your ex-husband, the man you’re still in love with?“Are you sure?” Chloe sounded skeptical. “You have. My coaches were simply aghast that I could throw a football with such great accuracy and distances to boggle their little one tracked minds.Hell I didn't even know I could do it until one of the coaches pitched me the ball and said, "now hold it this way and try to throw it to that guy in the green jersey down there."The guy in the green jersey I threw it too, was some hundred or so yards farther away than the guy he meant and didn't know to expect it whereupon, the fool thing decked him. I looked at the coach and asked, "How come he didn't catch it?" He stared at me and said, "I meant the guy over there!" And pointed at a cherubic young man just thirty yards or so away.They moved another guy paying attention into the former target's place and I threw a dozen or so passes and discovered the coaches had fallen in love with me. Then they had receivers running up and down the field and asked me to predict where they would be and have a ball waiting for them there. It was so easy to do I.
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