Chapter 2: Old Classmates

Words : 1622 Updated : Oct 11th, 2025

Rodrigo Shirvinton's whole body ached from the fall. When he overheard the couple talking, he nearly burst into laughter, but worried Adam Wokey might sober up and spot him. He pushed himself off the floor, crawled out of the master bedroom, and slipped back into the spare room. Brooke Casson, afraid Rodrigo might try to bother her again, walked to the door of his room. The moment he saw her, his eyes lit up; he pulled her inside, shut the door, and wrapped his arms around her. "What are you doing? Let me go, or I'll scream." Brooke's voice was cold with anger. "Adam treats you like a friend. A friend's wife is off-limits. What kind of friend are you?" Rodrigo flushed at her words. Only then did he realize how badly he'd crossed the line. He stammered, "I'm sorry-I lost my head. I really like you." Brooke's face stayed unreadable. "When Adam sobers up and finds you still here, he'll get the wrong idea. You'd better leave right now." Rodrigo knew she was right. He slunk out of Brooke's home with his tail between his legs. Back in high school, Brooke was the prettiest girl in school-everyone had a crush on her. She was the girl of Rodrigo's dreams. On countless sleepless nights, he'd fantasized about her, doing the sort of things teenage boys are too mortified to admit. He never even got the chance to confess before graduation came and went. Ten years blurred past. When they finally met again, Brooke had married his coworker, Adam Wokey. Envy and jealousy gnawed at Rodrigo, so he often mooched dinner at Adam's place, angling for any excuse to be near her. … After sending Rodrigo away, Brooke went straight back to the master bedroom. Adam was still asleep on his side. Remembering how Rodrigo had gotten her worked up earlier, she felt a tangle of feelings she couldn't name. Cheeks burning, she whispered, "Honey, I want…" "What do you want? I'm tired. Let's sleep." Adam still hadn't slept off the booze. His tone was testy. He rolled over, turned his back to her, and started snoring. "Honestly. A few drinks of that junk and all you do is sleep. You're such a pig," she grumbled. She threw back the covers, padded into the bathroom, and turned on the tap. Heat steamed up around her. The hot spray wrapped her from head to toe, and a soft, drowsy comfort spread through her limbs. She trailed her fingers through the water; her skin shimmered where it caught the light. Then the image of Rodrigo reaching for her on their bed flashed through her mind. A tremor rippled through her. She let her fingers drift over her own smooth skin. Sensation stirred like a trickle, rousing something dormant deep inside her, then swelling and unfurling, threading through her until it felt as if a net had closed around her entire body. Her breath quickened. Her thoughts went hazy, and warmth climbed higher. Soft sounds slipped from her lips with each breath, and her knees went weak. At last, she shut off the shower and sank into the tub, eyes half-closed, floating in a rapture she could not put into words. Whenever Adam was away on business, or when he could not meet her needs, she had lost count of how many times she had comforted herself like this-because only then did the pleasure come, a bittersweet kind of pleasure. Steam wreathed the bathroom. The soft pink light made the room feel cozy, but the woman bathed in it was alone. She might have gotten used to feeling lonely inside, but her body still craved what was missing. The image of Rodrigo-tall and handsome-flashed through her mind. She imagined herself stepping over that forbidden line, throwing caution to the wind and sleeping with him, surrendering to a reckless, consuming passion. For a moment, shame fell away, and so did loneliness. She wanted only release. She murmured Rodrigo's name, conjuring a fever-dream of stolen romance, the hunger in his eyes. Gradually her mind went blank. Pleasure rose in waves, and each broke over her, sweeping her clean of thought, sweeping her higher. At last the swell hurled her to a crest, as if she were a small boat tossed skyward by surf, the impact shattering her, scattering her to the far reaches of the dark. A tingling sweetness raced through her. Dizzy, panting, she slumped there, wet hair in a wild tangle. Finally, with a small, breathless cry, she lay in the tub, her pale body slack as if it had melted into the water. … After her bath, Brooke returned to the bedroom. She stood before the full-length mirror, taking in her rosy, peachy complexion and hourglass figure. Remembering how close Rodrigo had pressed made her heart lurch. She swayed her hips at the mirror, striking a few poses, then climbed back onto the bed. Facing Adam's turned back, she asked, "Honey, did I put on weight?" "Mm…" Adam mumbled. "I'm asking you. Answer me." She tugged him over to face her. "Putting on a little weight is fine-curves are sexy," Adam muttered, heavy with sleep. "Really?" Brooke hopped out of bed and ran to the mirror again. She studied her reflection and murmured to herself, "I really have put on a bit. Looks like I need to start working out."

Chapter 2: Old Classmates

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