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“No, I’m fine.” I crank up some music and that helps. “I’ll text you when I get home so you know I’m not dead.”

“Good girl.”

I take off and manage to make it all the way home, and to the couch, where I fall face first into the cushions.

•••

You ever fall asleep so hard that when you wake up you don’t know what time it is, or what year it is, or what planet you’re on? That’s me now. I blink and can barely make out the blurry numbers on the clock by my TV. Grasping for my cell, I end up finding it on the floor and see I have several missed calls from Leah.

Shit. I’m in trouble.

Voice message one: Hey, where are you? You said you’d call when you got home, and you haven’t.

Voice message two: Damnit, Mak. Call me back or answer my texts. Fuck it. I’m coming over.

Voice message three: You dumb bitch, you had me worried sick. Glad you’re home. Yes, I did a drive by. And I could literally hear you snoring through the door to your apartment. You sound like a warthog, did you know that? Love you, babe.

The back of my head hits the sofa cushion, and I rub my eyes, sighing. I feel so much better having slept, but this is going to wreck my already precarious sleep schedule.

Mak: Sorry. I legit crashed the instant I stepped inside my house.

Leah: Tell your boss I said she’s a dick for making you work yourself into that level of fatigue.

Mak: Will do. Love you.

Leah: Love you too.

Settling back on my couch, I can’t tell if I want to attempt going back to sleep or if I should just get up and be productive at… what time is it?

Crap, it’s two in the morning. I can’t vacuum or blast loud music while I scrub my tub at this hour because it might wake the neighbors. Have I mentioned how much I hate this apartment? The walls are paper thin, and no one is friendly. I can’t wait to move out in a month.

Oh! That’s what I can do. Go back on my endless search for places to rent before I’m out of time and get stuck renewing my lease here.

Grabbing a blanket off the back of my couch, I get comfortable and scroll through my options. Frustration slams into me within five minutes. There’s nothing I like. It makes me feel trapped and I hate it.

I wish I had a house like Carson’s. Not as big, but something that’s away from everyone else. I’ll never be able to afford that on my own. Not in this area, at least. And I don’t want to move too far away from my work because that would just make more problems that I don’t have the energy to tackle.

I really need to reevaluate my life. I love my job, but it’s killing me and I’m starting to resent it. For over a year, retaining staff has been a growing issue, and since I’m the single one with no life, I always get asked to take on someone else’s shift—whether they’re sick, it’s a holiday, or they want to spend extra time with their family.

At first, I said yes, without hesitation. I get it. Lots of my colleagues are married with little kids and who would want to work on Christmas morning when you have toddlers? I didn’t mind. In fact, I offered first.

Then people started taking advantage of my kindness, and it hasn’t stopped.

It’s a pattern for me that I realized too late. It took coming to a breaking point with He-who-was-a-waste-of-time for me to see that my compassion and generosity are easily used against me. Breaking up with him was the best thing I’d ever done for myself.

Joining K!nkLink, so far, is turning out to be the second best thing I’ve ever done for myself.

Maybe finding a new employer will be the third best thing.

Or I need to be patient because new hires are coming and then work life won’t be so crazy.

Abandoning my search for a new apartment, I login into the kink app. Not sure why, other than I kind of just want to stare at Carson’s profile pic.

Damn, he’s hot.

My hand slips down my stomach and between my thighs. Shimmying out of my scrubs, I play with my pussy, slowly running the pad of my finger in circles on my clit while I stare at his mouth. His perfect, full, soft, kissable lips are curved into a devious smile.

I’ve felt what that mouth of his can do to my cunt. My mind hooks on to the memory of his fat tongue and how fast he can flick it, how deep he can penetrate it into my pussy. I start fingering myself, wishing with all my might that I could make him magically crawl out of this picture and fuck me like he did in his backyard.