She followed him to the living room.
When he got to the couch, he reached for his pants, which were draped over the back cushion. “I’ll get out of your hair,” he said.
“I had a great time with you,” said, watching him dress. Her words sounded lame to her own ears. She pressed her lips together.
Martin pulled his shirt over one arm, and then the other. He buttoned it swiftly, hiding away the goods that she’d grown so fond of.
He walked up to her and kissed her swiftly.
The kiss was over almost as soon as it began, leaving her wanting more. “Goodbye,” he said, walking to the door.
She followed him. Though she knew that she needed to hurry up and prepare for the interview, she hated to see him go.
He pulled the door open, and as he stepped out, she quickly caught up to him. She reached for his hand and stopped him. She kissed him, all of her passion and attraction sweeping through her as she locked lips with him. As the intense kiss ended, she held his gaze with her own.
“Bye,” she said.
He grinned.
She felt elated as she stepped back into the apartment and closed the door behind her.
She leaned against it for a brief moment, before panic struck.
Shit, she thought. Shit, shit, shit. What time is it? She looked around her apartment, but the place looked as though a tornado had struck. Her bra was strewn across the coffee table, where she’d flung it the night before, a full glass of wine beside it.
Another glass of wine sat on the side table, and her shorts and tank top were draped along the couch. Piles of clothing and items that she’d been packing now added to the chaos.
She held her hand up to her forehead as she surveyed the mess.
She wanted to find her phone so that she could check the time, but the task felt impossible. I have no idea where it is, she thought, starting to tidy up the room. And where’s my laptop? she thought, frantically trying to recall the last place she’d seen it.
And do I have time to shower? What about coffee? What the hell time is it? Finally after searching through the mess but not finding her phone or computer, she rushed to the bedroom, almost tripping over the pillows that she and Martin had used along the floor the night before.
When she saw the clock, her stomach clenched with nerves.
It was 8:59.
Her interview was supposed to start in one minute.