Forbidden Cravings -
Chapter 123: Don’t Be Late Ezra!
Chapter 123: Don’t Be Late Ezra!
The door to my apartment gave a soft *clack* as I pushed it open. I flicked on the light switch, and the warm glow of the overhead bulb spilled across the living room, illuminating the hall.
I sighh and kicked off my black boots, leaving them by the door, and let out a long breath. "Feels like I’ve been gone forever," I muttered, running a hand through my damp hair. "Even though it’s only been one damn night."
The faint smell of Elizabeth’s perfume—and maybe a hint of the brothel’s scent—still clung to my clothes. I walked toward the kitchen, my socks scuffing against the hardwood floor. Out of habit, I pulled open the fridge door, half-hoping for a miracle.
No such luck. A half-empty carton of milk, a lonely ketchup bottle, and a sad-looking stick of butter stared back at me. "Phew," I whistled, shutting the door with a shake of my head. "Gotta do something about that."
Sara’s wedding wasn’t until seven, so I had the whole afternoon to kill. No way was I sitting around starving. I flopped onto the couch, grabbed my phone, and opened a food delivery app. Scrolling through the options, I settled on a chicken burrito, a couple of tacos, and a coconut water to wash it all down. "That’ll do," I said to myself, tapping through the payment screen. Done.
The app confirmed the order, and I tossed my phone onto the bed in the next room, knowing the delivery guy would just leave the food at the door like always.
The smell of Elizabeth’s perfume hit me again, stronger now that I was still. "Man, I need a shower," I groaned, pushing myself up. The faint musk of the brothel, mixed with her vanilla scent, was practically into my skin.
I pulled off my t-shirt, unbuckled my belt, and stepped out of my jeans, tossing everything into the laundry basket in the corner. Underwear, and I walked to the bathroom.
The bathroom—spacious, with a wide mirror and a glass shower door that made it feel fancier than it was. I twisted the knob, and hot water hissed out, steaming up the glass almost instantly.
"Ahh... this is what I needed." The water dropped on my shoulders, washing away the grime and the memories of the night before. I closed my eyes, letting the heat soak into my muscles, the steady rhythm of the water drowning out the world for a few minutes.
When I was done, I wrapped a towel around my waist and wandered back to the living room. I pulled on a white t-shirt and a track pants.
I grabbed the bag of food, the warm smell of spiced chicken and fresh tortillas hitting me as I carried it to the couch. Plopping down, I propped a pillow over my lap, unwrapped a burrito, and started flipping through TV channels. News, reruns, some cheesy reality show—nothing caught my interest.
"Everything feels so damn boring without Aeri," I muttered, taking a bite of the burrito. The flavors were good, but it didn’t hit the same without her here, cracking jokes or stealing bites off my plate.
I sighed, switching off the TV with a lazy flick of the remote. It landed on the couch cushion with a soft thud. I wiped my hands on a tissue, crumpled it up, and tossed it onto the coffee table. The burrito was only half-eaten, but I didn’t care. I stretched out on the couch, staring up at the ceiling, the weight of the day settling over me like a heavy blanket.
It was two in the afternoon, and I was laid on the couch. I grabbed my phone, the screen lighting up with the wallpaper—me and Aeri, her arm slung around my shoulders, both of us smiling together.
I stared at the photo, my thumb brushing over the screen. Aeri. The college girl who’d taken me in when I was just a scrawny, orphaned kid with nowhere to go. She’d been barely out of her teens herself, but she’d stepped up, giving me a home, a family. I’d called her Mom for years, my stepmother in name, but she was so much more than that. She was the woman I loved most in the world, the one who’d seen me at my worst and still stuck around. My heart gave a little twist, and before I could think about it, I leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the screen, right over her smiling face.
My eyes felt heavy, and I let them close, the phone still clutched in my hand as I dozed off, sinking into the couch’s worn cushions.
*Beep. Beep. Beep.*
The sharp buzz of my phone jolted me awake. I blinked, groggy, and glanced at the screen. Aeri’s name flashed, and my stomach dropped. I swiped to answer, fumbling the phone to my ear. "H-hello?"
"Ezra, where are you?" Her voice was sharp, like she was already halfway to annoyed. "Please tell me you’ve left the house already."
I shot a glance at the clock on the wall. Six o’clock.
"Oh, shit," I muttered, my eyes widening as the realization hit me. I’d slept through the whole damn afternoon.
"What was that?" Aeri’s tone turned dangerously suspicious. "Don’t you dare tell me you’re still sleeping."
"No, no, no!" I said, scrambling off the couch and nearly tripping over the pillow in my lap. "I’m out, I swear. I’ve already left. I’ll be there soon, don’t worry." My voice was rushed as I bolted toward my bedroom, already mentally sorting through what I needed to wear.
"Okay, good," she said. "You better not be late, Ezra...Sara will have my head if you show up looking like you just rolled out of bed."
"Yeah, yeah, I got it," I said, pulling open my closet door. "I’m on my way. Promise...Gotta go, bye." I hung up before she could grill me further, tossing the phone onto the bed as I started digging through my clothes.
I stood in front of my open closet, staring at the mess of clothes hanging haphazardly on the rack.
"Oh, fuck this shit," I muttered, shoving aside a couple of wrinkled t-shirts to get a better look. Time was ticking, and I needed to pull something together for Sara’s wedding before Aeri’s knife-emoji threats turned into reality.
I pulled out a grey button-up shirt, the kind that looked sharp without screaming "I’m trying too hard." Paired it with black jeans—simple, clean, reliable.
I pulled off my white t-shirt and track pants I’d been wearing, tossing them onto the bed in a crumpled heap.
As I buttoned up the grey shirt, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My hair was still a little wild, and I looked like I hadn’t slept properly in days.
"Gotta fix that," I said under my breath, grabbing a bottle of hair serum from the dresser. I gave myself a quick spritz, the sharp, woody scent filling the air. Then I squeezed a dab of serum into my palm, rubbing it through my hair to give it that slick, wet look. I ran my fingers through it a couple of times, taming the strands into something halfway presentable.
"Phew," I exhaled, stepping back to check the results in the mirror. "Decent enough." I strapped on my black watch, the one Aeri had picked out for me last year.
My eyes drifted to the corner of the room, where a sleek black shoebox sat on the floor—Sara’s gift. She’d given it to me a few days ago, practically threatening me to buy something with a grin and a command: "Wear these to my wedding, Ezra. No excuses." I sighed, crouching down to pull the box open.
Inside were a pair of crisp white dress shoes, polished to a shine. "Stupid woman," I muttered, shaking my head as I lifted them out. They were simple and good enough, perfect for my style and I had to admit they looked good.
I slipped them on, tightening the laces until they felt snug, and stood up, testing the fit. They weren’t half bad.
I turned to the full-length mirror by the door, giving myself a once-over. The grey shirt hugged my shoulders just right, the black jeans were sharp, and the white shoes added a pop that screamed Sara’s taste.
"Not bad, Ezra," I said, smirking at my reflection. "You clean up okay."
As I grabbed my phone and keys, a familiar weight settled in my chest. Sara. The memories of her—her laugh, her teasing, the way she’d used me for her own pleasure on bed—came rushing back. Late nights, tangled sheets, her moans and whispering of my name like it was a game.
It had been a mess, a thrill I couldn’t quite pull myself away from, but now she was getting married.
"Hope this means I’m free from your nonsense," I muttered, locking the door behind me as I stepped into the hallway. The click of the lock felt final, like I was closing the door on more than just my apartment.
I headed out of the house, the white shoes clicking against the steps. The cool evening air hit me as I stepped outside, and I shoved my hands into my pockets, thinking about the night ahead.
Sara’s wedding was supposed to be a celebration, but all I could think about was Aeri waiting for me, her smile and that I will get to be with her now.
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