Chapter 11 - Willow
When Mike drops me off at home, I still don’t let him come up to my apartment. After spending the week with him at his cozy house, I don’t want him to see my place. We’ll have to keep fucking at his house.
I unpack my bag and daydream about the future. We didn’t make any plans for New Year’s...maybe he’s already got something to do. He better not have a date!
I pause with my pajama pants in my hand. Shit, what if he really does have a date? Now that we’re doing...whatever this is, are we exclusive? I spend the next hour stewing about Mike.
It’s been two months. Shouldn’t we talk about where this is heading?
My stomach ties itself in knots, but I can hear Alice’s voice in my head telling me to fucking ask him and stop being a wimp.
She’s right. If I want a relationship with him, I need to be able to communicate.
Not talking about how I feel about things was part of my problem with Oliver-The-Scumbucket.
Feeling determined, I sit on my bed and compose my message to Mike.
Willow:
Question for you. Are we exclusive? And if so, are you my dom or are you my boyfriend?
I almost stop there, but bite my lip and continue typing.
Willow:
Question for you. Are we exclusive? And if so, are you my dom or are you my boyfriend? I’d like to be exclusive, if you want me.
I hit send before I can change my mind, and then tip over and bury my face in my pillow as my heart races.
Part of me wishes I could take the text back because I’m afraid of his answer, but knowing where this is going is better than living with anxiety and wondering.
I’m a bundle of nerves and my pulse won’t calm down.
I want to be his girlfriend, but I’d settle for him as my dom.
Thinking back to how amazing the last week with him was, my heart skips a happy beat as imagine future holidays together.
My brain freezes as a realization hits me. Oh my God, I love him.
Shit, what if he says no to being exclusive?