No, it hadn't been over. Alex exhausted me for hours before finally leaving to shower. I clutched the bedsheets, curled up in the foetal position, my chest aching with each heaving breath.
Were all men like this when they'd gone so long without it?
"Hannah?" Holly called out from the doorway, making me pull the blanket to cover everywhere except my head. "Are you okay?"
"I'm tired," I muttered, my throat horse. There was no way Holly didn't know what had been going on in this room. She was sixteen, not six. Still, I felt too vulnerable and exposed under her innocent, deep blue eyes.
"What's wrong?" I groggily sat up, still holding the blanket up to my neck, conscious of the marks left behind.
"Leo says his dad is coming," she took a few shaky steps forward, stumbling to fall just as she reached the bed. All my own drama and insecurities disappeared as I let the blanket fall to hold her steady beside me.
