She's my friend's girl. They're off and on. Off, right now. She's in town for a few days. She stays with me, it's only sensible. Roommate is not at home. When we hang out in public she leans against me subtly. She hugs me for really long when we greet.
I set her up on the couch. Turn the heat up. Go to my room. Close the door tightly. Then I open it again.
I put my head to the pillow. 45 minutes later she walks in and crawls into my bed. "I'm wide awake," she says. "Is this okay?" She snuggles up to me and strokes my head and pulls my hair. "Yeah," I say. Our heads touch, and we are kissing. She likes to do it on top, holding me down, moving at her own rhythm. I smile and try to stay focused. I'm thinking about someone else. Voice flashes into my mind. Voice crying when I tell her I'm leaving. For real this time. Not like the last three times. So many betrayals.
In the morning I take her to the airport. We talk about her rocky relationship with my friend like we hadn't been making love two hours before. Or maybe like we had, and it makes no difference. This one will always be a secret. It all felt inevitable. But now it's done and it feels wrong.