That damn hoodie… (Selina & Donovan part 5)

I hope you enjoy reading this update as much as I enjoyed writing it (for all the heartbreak and tears it contains…)

There is more sad stuff on the way but it will be all worth it in the end.


That’s how the girls find me, on the floor in my room, hugging myself, tears streaming down my face.

“What happened now?” Lacey asks as they sit on either side of me on the carpet and I rest my head on London’s shoulder.

“I’m filling a box with all of Donovan’s stuff because I can’t stand any of it anymore and the drawer smells like him.” My tears are finally stopping. I have cried so much this week, it’s starting to take its toll on me.

“He has stuff in your drawers? What kind of stuff are we talking here, Miss We’re-Just-Friends-And-It-Doesn’t-Mean-Anything?” London asks, and I try to remember.

“Umm… I don’t know… like, aftershave… a t-shirt or two… stuff.”

Lacey walks up to the drawer and starts pulling out things.

“I’m gonna take a wild guess here and say these aren’t yours,” she says holding up a pair of Donovan’s boxer briefs, and I shake my head. She throws them in the box on the floor.

“Jesus, how many pairs of those does he need to keep at your house?” she asks, holding up about half a dozen more.

I shrug. I never really cared how many there were, they got put through the wash then in the drawer for the next time he spent the night. In the box they go, followed by about four t-shirts, a pair of jeans and some trackpants.

“What about the hoodie?” London asks softly, as it not to startle me, and I look up at her. “Isn’t it his too?”

Shit. She’s right. But it’s my favourite item of clothing ever, has been since I stole it from Donovan about a month after we met. Ok, ‘stole’ might be a bit strong. He let me borrow it because I was cold one night at the beach and I never gave it back. It became a long running joke.

“But it’s my hoodie…”

“Sweetie, if you’re having a purge off all things Donovan, the hoodie has to go,” Lacey says and I know she’s right, but I’m not quite ready to let go.

“How about we just leave this for now and go eat, cos I don’t know about you but I need a drink and you promised lasagna,” London suggests and Lacey and I agree. We relocate to the kitchen and I put the lasagna in the by now really hot oven.

The girls help themselves to a drink and that’s when I remember mine is on the chest of drawers in my room.

“I’ll get it for you,” Lacey says and I smile at her gratefully. I know it’s silly, it’s my bedroom but I know that if I go back near those drawers tonight I’ll start crying again.

Over dinner I learn more about that tall British photographer London is now working with and I joke that maybe London should send a letter to Lacey’s advice column, earning myself a glare.

“Why not?” I press on, trying to make her see my point. “You could leave the magazine open on that page and he accidentally finds it and reads it, nek minnit he’s asking you on a date cos he knows you fancy him.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Neither do you! What do you think, Lace?”

“Could work. Or you could just ask him out. I have heard him mention he’s single. You could offer to show him around after the next shoot.”

“Can we talk about something else? Like what we’re doing tomorrow night? Or Lacey’s date on Monday?” London pleads with us. “Or what Lacey brought for pudding?”

Lacey laughs as she gets the chocolate cheesecake from the bench and I get some plates.

“I slaved for hours to make this,” Lacey says as she places the store-bought cheesecake on the table with a flourish.

Later, after we’ve watched a movie and the girls have gone home, I turn the dishwasher on and go to bed. I spend some time looking through the photos on my phone, trying to decide if I should delete them or not but in the end, it’s too much too soon and I keep them where they are. I fall asleep still wearing that hoodie.

I roll over onto my side and feel a warm body behind me, and I know it’s Donovan by the way my body reacts to his proximity. He moves closer, his front to my back and I can feel his hardening cock against my crack.

I whimper and press against him; his hand moves to my hip then down between my legs. His fingers brush over my clit and I buck my hips, my back arching against him, his cock digging into me more.

He starts rubbing my clit in circles and my hips move back and forth, my pussy clenching, aching for his hard length.

I am panting, my clit is pulsating under his knowing fingers and I reach behind me, my arm going over his, my hand closing around his cock. I give him a squeeze and he groans in my ear, his fingers pressing harder on my clit.

“Turn around,” he whispers in my ear as his hand leaves the apex of my thighs so I can roll over in his arms. I let go of his cock and do as he asks.

I am facing him now and look into his eyes, getting lost in the emotion I see in them. I lean forward and we kiss; it’s slow at first, reaffirming that connection between us, a gentle exploring of each other’s mouth after over a month apart.

My hips start moving again as our tongues move against each other and I whimper loudly. I feel his fingers digging into my hip, his cock digging into my belly and I can’t wait to feel him inside me again.

“I need you,” I say against his mouth and he nods. I move my leg over his hip then I feel his hand between us and his cock is moving up and down my slit a few times so he’s coated in my juices.

I feel his top inch stretching me and he stops for a few agonising seconds then withdraws. I’m close to tears with frustration and need when he slams inside me and I nearly cum from feeling his hard cock deep in my cunt again.

I’m hanging onto him tightly, arms and legs wrapped around him as he starts thrusting, the friction on my clit adding to the pleasure every time he is fully inside me, hitting my A-spot.

I’m getting close, so close…

Suddenly he’s gone and I’m all alone in my bed, panting, desperate to orgasm. But Donovan was never really there, it was just my brain playing tricks on me.

The tears come and I welcome them, curling in the fetal position until I eventually go back to sleep.

I wake up late the next morning, grateful to only have two appointments, both after lunch, and glad I decided to have an appointments-only day. Too bad if the manager doesn’t like it, she’s not there to complain. I’m exhausted and I need a break.

Eggs and bacon on toast with about three cups of tea make me feel awake enough to face clients. I realise I’m still wearing Donovan’s hoodie so I take it off, fold it then carefully place it on top of the other stuff in the box.

I decided to drop it at his house after my appointments this afternoon, he should be home then. I don’t really want to see him but I do at the same time. It’s going to suck no matter what I do.

Work goes quickly and soon enough I’m on my way to Donovan’s house. There’s a car I don’t recognise in his driveway so I park on the street. The box is heavier than I remember it being this morning.

I knock on the front door and wait, cringing when I hear a shrill “I’ll get it!” and realise I’m going to have to face the stick insect. I should have known she’d be there.

She opens the door and gives me a look that makes me want to punch her.

“What do you want?” she says. Nice manners…

“Hello to you too. I need to see Donovan, actually. I have something for him,” I tell her even though it’s none of her business.

She glares at me. “He’s busy.”

“Tough,” I tell her then I call out, “Donovan!” and instantly hear footsteps approaching.

I wonder how he is going to react, after all I kind of threw him out less than a week ago. I put the box down by my feet on the top step because it feels like my arms are about to fall off.

I’m not sure how you’re supposed to greet a man you’ve known for 10 years and had a sexual relation with after you’ve yelled at him to leave your house because he got a girlfriend and you didn’t realise until it was too late you were in love with him.

“I brought your stuff back.”

He gives me a confused look and I point at the box. He looks down at it, then at me, then at the box again before picking up the hoodie. He is looking part confused, part hurt.

“You can’t give me back something that hasn’t been mine for like ten years,” he says and I feel the tears threatening.

Not again…

“It’s always been yours, I’m just giving it back. I’m sorry it took so long.”

“But you love this hoodie. You wear it all the time. It’s yours and I—”

“Oh my God, Donovan, is that your underwear in this box of junk?” the stick insect suddenly screeches, loud enough to alert all the neighbours.

I did not come all this way to make a scene so I look up at Donovan. “I’m just gonna go now.”

“What? No, wait, we need to talk about this!”

I shake my head no and catch a murderous glare from the stick insect before she gets her claws onto the man I love so I turn around and walk away, only turning around to look back at Donovan when I reach the relative safety of my car.

His eyes lock with mine; he’s still holding that damn hoodie while that vile woman is no doubt spouting horrible things about me.

I make it to the school three streets away before it becomes too hard to see through my tears. The pain of losing this man who’s been in my life for so long washes through me and I must look quite a sight, sitting in my car on the side of the road, bawling.

After a while the sobs finally stop and I take a few deep breaths. I get my phone out of my bag, ignoring the missed call from Donovan and the abusive texts from the stick insect, and ring Lacey.

“Hey, it’s me,” I say when she picks up and I know she’ll probably be able to tell I’ve been crying.

“Hi. You ok?”

I shrug even though she can’t see me.

“I just dropped off the box. She was there and started a scene so I left.”

“Good girl.”

“The look on his face when he saw the hoodie, Lace. It nearly broke my already broken heart. I’m so tired of crying, it’s exhausting.”

“You didn’t let that bitch see you cry , did you?” Lacey asks and that makes me laugh.

“Nah, I made it to the school down the road before it became too dangerous to drive.”

“Aww sweetie. Come over, we can hang out before London gets here later.”

“Ok. See you soon.”

I hang up and get on my way.

Later we’re all ready to go out, starting with dinner at The Rolling Maul. I’m a bit weary going in, don’t want another showdown, but as we make our way to the bar area, we see Chris giving us the thumbs up.

“Coast is clear, ladies,” Chris tells us before taking our drinks orders. “No stick insect here tonight.”

I giggle and look over at Lacey who’s trying her best to look innocent.

“I may have disclosed a few tidbits of information,” Lacey says, blushing.

“They were here last night though, had a huge fight,” Chris adds and as much as I want to pretend I’m not interested, I’m dying to know more.

“How interesting,” London says, giving me a look. “You don’t happen to know who, I mean, what they were fighting about, do you, Chris?” she adds and I elbow her a little.

“Funny you should ask that,” Chris says, getting started on our drinks orders. “I didn’t really hear what he was saying but she was shrieking loud enough to wake the dead. Don’t know what he sees in her, really… Anyway, he must have been checking his phone a bit too much, hoping to have heard from someone, because the stick insect was yelling at him that she wouldn’t be calling him because she threw him out of her house the other night and that meant the “slut” — her words — didn’t want anything to do with him and it was about time.”

“Ugh,” is all I have to say to that.

“What is that bitch’s problem, seriously?” Lacey ponders, and don’t we all.

“They’re probably having another fight right now,” London says. “You did say you dropped off that box of his stuff earlier and there is no way she’ll have been impressed with what was in it!”

That makes me laugh.

“She wasn’t. She saw the clothes in the box and started screaming. That’s when I left.”

“Aww honey.”

I shrug and thank Chris who just set my drink in front of me.

“So, what’s the plan tonight then, ladies?” Lacey’s hopefully soon-to-be boyfriend asks as he puts down the girls’ drinks in front of them.

“Food then I plan on getting very drunk,” I reply with a smile.

“Great plan,” London says. “We can get a taxi home later.”

“I finish at 2am, if you want a ride home then,” Chris offers, looking at Lacey and only vaguely blushing. Clearly those two have been communicating a lot this week…

“Was that offer just for Lacey or all of us?” I ask.

“We did leave our cars at her place,” London adds.

“I don’t plan on being able to drive home later,” I tell her, meaning it. “I want to get really drunk and go home and forget about my life for a bit.”

“No worries,” Chris says. “I can get all of you home safely.”

We smile gratefully at him then me and London look at Lacey.

“Don’t fuck this up, he’s a good one this one.”

Lacey blushes and glances at Chris. The way these two are looking at each other…

“Excuse me,” I say and get my phone out of my bag. I ignore the usual missed calls from Donovan and the skank, ever so glad I put my phone on silent, and text London.

Wanna bet he takes her home and spends the night?”

DUH!”

We share a look and a smirk.

“Oi! What are you two plotting now?” Lacey demands to know but we shrug, acting innocent.

“Plotting? There’s no plotting.”

“I’m hungry. We should order.”

I can tell Lace doesn’t believe us but oh well.

We order our food and move to a table not too far from the bar so Lacey can keep perving. It’s nice to hang out again after the last few weeks of missing out because of being too exhausted.

Chris joins us when he’s on his break and we plot our next move. We decide to go dancing and say goodbye to Chris, promising to text him later so he can pick us up.

The club is loud and it feels good to let loose, following the beat of the music.

We all make sure to alternate alcohol and water so we don’t have the hangover from hell tomorrow but I’m not as careful as I should be and right now I don’t care.

*Part 6, Being bad never felt so good, is right here*

*ICYMI, Part 4, Thank god for friends, is there*

 

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7 thoughts on “That damn hoodie… (Selina & Donovan part 5)

  1. Pingback: Being bad never felt so good (Selina & Donovan part 6) | DragonflyLady's Writey Ramblings

  2. Pingback: Thank god for friends! (Selina & Donovan part 4) | DragonflyLady's Writey Ramblings

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