Timing

Ben

On Sunday morning, I woke up with a hangover again. It was so much the same as the last time Mila and I had gone out drinking together, but this time, I was filled with regret. There was no uncertainty about what she felt for me now. I was the one who had stopped it from going further between us. But I was sure that if I hadn’t, we would have slept together. Or come a lot closer to it.

Mila had kissed me back with the same kind of passion as she had the last time, and she had known what she was doing. We’d both had time to think about the first time we’d kissed, and neither of us had been as wasted as we had before.

I did regret walking out on her, though. I would have loved to spend the night, to explore her body and everything else that could have happened. But it hadn’t been the right time.

When I rolled out of bed, my head throbbed, and my stomach turned. But I wasn’t so sick that I was going to throw up. Still, I felt like shit. Maybe it was more my emotions than anything els