Eric stands at the counter, waiting for the kettle to boil he pops opens the tin of Darjeeling and measures the leaves into the tea ball then drops it into the cup. But he almost drops the tin when he feels arms encircle him from behind.
Elsie.
Eric can feel his body betray him at the familiar feel of her pressing into him from behind, and she slips her hands inside the waistband of his track pants.
“Mmmm,” she says. “You missed me.”
“Elsie stop it.” he says quietly. He turns around and is struck by how ethereal she looks. Probably worn out from fucking the other half of the guys on campus last night.
He smiles, “Involuntary reaction. Old habits die hard.”
“They don’t have to die hard, we can put them to use.”
Of course she lets her robe fall tantalizingly open but even the provocative glimpse of that perfect body can’t get the taste of betrayal out of his mouth.
He just shakes his head. “I don’t think so.”
The kettle starts to whistle, and he turns to shut it off, then pours the boiling water over the tea bell in his over sized mug. With the tea safely steeping he turns back and she’s gone.
Eric sags back against the counter, weak with relief.
