When I Kissed Him The Comment Called Me Cheap Chapter 03

When I Kissed Him The Comment Called Me Cheap Chapter 03

I went back to the apartment alone.

I didn’t want to think about what the two of them did after I left—whether they sang, whether they had some soul-to-soul talk.

I just packed my things, ready to move out. I had no interest in getting tangled up in their fates anymore. I wanted to stay as far away from them as possible.

The room was scattered with gifts Henson had given me: designer bags, jewelry, clothes, works of art.

For the month we’d been together, he’d been generous.

Every time we shopped, if I glanced at something twice, he’d buy it without checking the price tag.

I’d hold expensive art pieces and ramble nonsense, while he’d watch me fondly and swipe his card silently.

I’d thought that was proof he loved me. But looking back now, what were those things compared to sending Abia to Berklee?

I’d nearly finished packing my belongings when someone knocked on the door.

I thought it must be Abia coming back.

“Come in,” I said.

The door opened, and a man stood there—Henson.

Embarrassment and awkwardness washed over me, and my face turned deathly pale.

In the month we’d dated, I’d spent over an hour getting ready every time I saw him, dressing up perfectly, trying to look worthy of him at least on the outside.

He’d offered to drive me home many times, and I’d always refused. I just didn’t want him to see I lived in this shabby, cramped old neighborhood.

“Why are you here?”

Henson closed the door, his hands coming to rest on my waist.

His breathing grew heavy. “You sure ran fast. I couldn’t even catch up with you. Those people cornered me and gave me an earful for a good while.”

“Tell me—how should I punish you?”

I pushed him away and turned my back.

Henson wrapped his arms around my waist from behind. “I was worried it might get too late and your roommate wouldn’t be safe coming home alone, so I gave her a ride. Thought I’d check on you while I was at it. What, are you really mad?”

So it was fine for me to come home alone, but Abia needed protection. Even checking on me was just a side trip.

I shook my head. “Henson, let’s break up.”

Henson froze for a second.

Then he grabbed my wrist, flipped me over, and pinned me down on the bed. “Carrie, what’s wrong with you tonight? What are you so mad about? Even a criminal gets told what they’re guilty of before sentencing.”

He loomed over me like a mountain, pinning me in place. His deep eyes locked onto mine, as if trying to bore through me.

I turned my head away. “Nothing. You did nothing wrong. I’m just tired. I don’t like you anymore.”

My voice was calm, like still water.

He suddenly leaned down to kiss me, his lips pressing hot and heavy on mine, my cheeks.

Usually, I was the more aggressive one, clinging to him anywhere, anytime, kissing him nonstop.

But this time, I just lay there stiffly, letting him do what he wanted, giving him no response at all.

Slowly, his eyes turned cold. He pulled back to look at me, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he fought to contain himself.

“Carrie, you said you had a birthday gift for me. Where is it?”

I’d hinted at it more than once—that for his birthday, I’d give myself to him as a gift.

Thinking back, I really was pathetic, treating my body like a present.

If I didn’t respect myself, how could I expect others to?

But no one had ever taught me how to love someone the right way, without looking pathetic.

I’d only ever copied what I’d seen.

But I’d been wrong. That kind of pattern would only lead me to the same ending as that person.

I didn’t want that.

Not anymore.

I turned back to meet his gaze, my face blank.

“We’re breaking up. If I gave you a gift, you’d just have to return it later. Too much trouble.”

“By the way, all the things you gave me are here. You can take them on your way out. Or give me an address, and I’ll ship them to you.”

Henson stared at me, stunned, like he couldn’t believe what he’d heard.

After a long moment, his eyes darkened, and he kissed me again. This time, the kiss was fierce, a thousand times more intense than before.

I could feel his reason slipping, his body losing control.

As the moment grew heated, more comments appeared.

[Wait a minute—I remember the original story. After the birthday party ended, the side chick practically dragged the ML to a hotel, but he got turned off because she’d been acting too wild in the private room. What’s going on here?]

[Yeah, I recall that when the side chick said she wanted to give herself to him as a gift at the hotel, the ML looked so disgusted he was about to call the cops. Why is he suddenly making the first move?]

[It must be the side chick’s playing-hard-to-get finally working!]

[Nooo! Wasn’t the ML’s first time supposed to be with the FL in California a year from now? What’s this supposed to mean? Is he going to be tainted now?]

I scoffed, “My roommate’s next door. What if I can’t help making a little noise later? Or is that what you want? You want her to hear?”

Henson froze.

After a moment, he leaned down again.

“So what if she does.”