The Greek God

17

I had slept with Daniel.

Let me repeat: Daniel and I had spent the night. In. The. Same. Bed.

OH LORD BABY JESUS.

My mind was a whirlpool of emotions as I pranced home. I was so confused, yet at the same time, it felt so right. Kind of.

After a thirty minute walk from Daniel's, I finally reached my house. Opening the front door, I stumbled onto a random topless guy in front of Oliver's open fridge, chugging milk straight from the carton. An attractive topless guy, might I add. This was too much for my brain to handle. I mean, I was encountering too many shirtless hotties in a short span of time. So I blanked and simply stood there, staring at this fine stranger with my brows raised. He turned around with a start and blushed, but shrugged it off by simply mumbling, "It was nearly empty anyways."

Who the hell was this?

Just as I was opening my mouth to speak, Oliver strutted into the kitchen wearing a kimono and threw a t-shirt at the hot milk man.

"You. Leave." He dismissed him with a hand wave.

Then, he turned to face me and pointed at the chair. "You. Sit."

Mr. Bossypants.

As soon as the guy left, Oliver walked around the kitchen counter, pulled out a pan and said, "You have one second to tell me where you were last night whilst I make pancakes. Spill." He picked up a bowl, cracked two eggs and began beating them like there was no tomorrow.

"I'll tell you as soon as you stop torturing those innocent eggs."

"No me toques los huevos*," he retorted. "Why didn't you text me last night?"
("Don't fuck with me.")

"Yeah about that..." I ran my hand through my hair as I searched for an explanation. "Sorry for being AWOL. The roads were cut and I-"

"What are you going on about?" Oliver asked as he added the mix onto the pan.

"The roads were cut because of the storm," I gave him the 'duh' look. "Why do you think I didn't come home last night?"

He flipped a pancake with one hand whilst eyeing me with a hand on his hip. God, he was too sassy sometimes. "Honey, the roads wouldn't be closed off even if it there was a zombie apocalypse. Are you for real?"

I processed the information for a second, and then it clicked. That fucker.

"¡MALDITO CABRÓN!" I shrieked. Oliver started howling with laughter in the background.
("MOTHERFUCKER!")

"He lied to me!" I whined. "That bastard lied to my face!"

"Yeah yeah, poor you," Oliver dismissed my outburst, with fake pity as he sat in front of me, slapping the pancakes onto the table. "So, was he good?" he winked, placing his chin onto his hand.

"Good? What do you mean?' I asked with confusion, causing him to roll his eyes.

"Oh come on! You spent the night at a random guy's house and expect me to believe- wait, do I know him?"

I bit my lower lip with hesitation, "I stayed at Daniel's." As soon as I said his name, Oliver jolted out of his seat and began to jump around, squealing, as he clapped his hands.

"Oh my god! My baby had some Greek God action last night!" He wiped a fake tear. "Wow, I taught you so well."

"Oh piss off!" I scoffed as I pulled him down to his seat. "Nothing happened."

"Nothing?" He asked as he titled his head to the side.

"I swear." I looked up to him and saw him squinting his eyes. "What?"