She makes him wear a condom, even though she's on the pill; she's only ever had unprotected sex with Tim. Of course, he doesn't have one on hand, so she's forced to improvise - go through her dad's bathroom cabinet, and seriously, eww, why does Dad have these things just lying around? Lyla shudders. Whatever. Thank god Dad's in Odessa so he can't see me rummaging around his cabinets for condoms.
He's inside of her now, and it's been so long since anyone except Tim - but I'm not going there, so even if this feels different, and not different-better, it's different-worse, definitely different-worse, because really, after Tim, everything's probably different-worse, but it doesn't matter because Tim and I are not together anymore and I'm not supposed to be fantasizing about one guy when I'm in bed with another. It's just not cool.
She recoils as he kisses her neck and her breasts. His mouth is wet, and his breath is hot, and this is really actually turning me off, but let's just pretend I'm enjoying this, otherwise he's going to think I'm insane. She listens to him moan and can't even fake enjoyment at this point. Just finish up already, please?
Huge mistake, huge mistake, huge mistake. I am not ready for this. Clearly didn't wait long enough between Tim and . . . this. But how long am I supposed to wait? What's that expression about just jumping right back on the horse? Ugh. Totally apt here, except the horse in question is really not doing it for me, and where is Tim when you really need him? Tim's strong hands, his arms, his chest, his stomach, his - okay, really, stop. Not helping.
She goes back in her head to the first time she and Tim made love - his hard body pressed against hers, the desperation of their kisses - partly out of mutual sadness and helplessness over Jason, partly out of an insanely chemical physical attraction. She remembers feeling powerless in his arms; she couldn't help herself - I mean, really, he's not the kind of guy girls turn down. He's the guy you dream about, fantasize about, want in your bed even though you know that nothing can come of it. So, of course, Lyla hadn't expected to fall in love with him, to need him so desperately that it consumed her. And here I am, having sex with a stranger.
What would Tim think of this? She feels a moment of panic. He's on his way back from New Jersey, and he is certainly not imagining me lying here in my dad's condo getting screwed by some yahoo from a local ranch, that's for sure. Definitely not. Tim - what would Tim do if he saw me now? Saw this? The wet kisses keep on coming. Tim's not really the jealous type, but then again, "not really jealous" and okay with someone else screwing me is not really just a matter of degree, is it?
Lyla feels the tears start welling up in her eyes. Seriously, will this ever end? And now I'm crying. Great. Only crazy girls cry during sex.
Finally, mercifully, it ends. She hears him groan in self-satisfaction. She grimaces and rolls away from him, tears rolling freely down her face now.
He reaches out to touch her and she freezes up, pulling away. "Please don't," she says quietly. She curls into a ball and pulls the sheet tightly over her, hoping if she closes her eyes he will just disappear. He doesn't.
