#Chapter149
PHOENIX
I was used to having a hangover for months since my disastrous relationship with Samantha, but I groan as I feel my stiff body for being curled up long. I sit up straight on the couch and begin rubbing the back of my aching neck.
I look around the small living room of her apartment, nothing to see other than the boring cream-colored wall, a flat tv screen, a set of couches, and a black glass coffee table.
The memories of last night are ambiguous to me, except that I remember pissing off the security guard, and how Samantha helped my drunkass up into her apartment.
She was still so magnificent even in her beige baggy sweater and baby blue pajama bottoms.
I wonder how it feels to touch underneath those baggy clothes she wears.
I missed those feelings.
I missed her skin against my hands, and I missed those lips I kissed days ago.
Jesus, I’m instantly a boner. It’s been a while, buddy.
