I didn't plan to have sex with the guy, but come on.
Yeah, that’s a damn lie.
What's a man to do when an opportunity like that presents itself? While I may not have planned to have sex with that particular guy, I had every intention of hooking up with someone before the night was over. Of course, I didn't expect it to happen at a heterosexual bachelor party, but a man does get lucky - in more ways than one - on occasion.
Before I go any further in my little tale, let me introduce myself. My name is Eros and I’m the god of love and lust. You're thinking “Eros? Shouldn't that be Cupid?” No. Wrong myth. Wrong guy. Cupid is a childlike character who was created by the Romans long after me. In other words, two different immortals. Cupid flutters around with his little fairy wings and gets his kicks by making people fall in love with each other with his arrow tip of love. People want to believe we're the same god, but we're not even close. I am most definitely not childlike, and while I do have wings, they're black and aren't visible unless I want them to be. That Cupid guy flies around like a buzzing bee annoying people. He's always happy and chipper, and while he claims to be a god of love and lust, he's likely a virgin and probably always will be. He's not really a child, you see. He just looks like one. What guy - or girl - would have sex with that dude? They'd think they were doing something illegal, when in fact, he's thousands of years old. The poor guy has probably only experienced sex with his hand. The Elders, both Greek and Roman, never bothered to fix the misinterpretation of Cupid and me being the same god. Let people believe what they want to believe. As long as he stays in his part of the world and I stay in mine, there won't be any issues. There haven't been thus far.
It should also be noted that if you know anything at all about our history, those in Greece and Olympus aren't exactly big fans of the Romans. While I won't go into the nitty gritty of why here, suffice it to say that it really is best if Cupid and I stay far away from each other. While I don't condemn him for the actions of his ancestors, my family does, so there you go. Also, don't believe everything you read about the Greeks and Romans and how we came to be. The truth in tales often gets lost along the way in retellings. That was definitely the case with us.
While Cupid may be a little guy, I stand at six-three and have black hair that falls straight to my shoulders. My eyes are an odd shade of green that get brighter when I'm angry or horny. Considering I'm usually either one of the two, my eyes stay bright pretty much all the time. I mentioned my wings. I'm forbidden to use them on Earth unless I'm in flight to or from Olympus for whatever reason. They're hidden under my skin and anyone seeing my back would never know they were there. I have a lot of sex, so trust me when I say a lot of guys have seen my naked back. I was created by Aphrodite, my mother. It's common knowledge that she's the most gorgeous woman in existence, and let's just say I got my looks from my mother's side. I'm also very humble, in case you haven't noticed.
Poor Cupid may do okay with the love part of his job, but how can he push people together for sex? From what I understand, all he knows is what he's seen in internet porn or while watching humans and immortals actually doing it. I'd say I feel sorry for the guy, but that wouldn't be true. Imagine if I had competition on this side of Earth. Two gods pushing the lust thing in the same place would not be conducive to a peaceful existence, let me tell you. Sure, I do the love stuff too, but all I've seen since I've started this gig, on top of watching my mother have more husbands than should be legal, has jaded me. I do what I'm supposed to do with the arrows - and yes, I do have my own version of arrows - because it's my job to do so and I get paid well for it. Nobody said I was supposed to believe in that nonsense. Sex? Oh, hell yes. I'm all about that. Love? Give me a break. I'll leave that to Cupid, who still lives in a fantasy world and somehow maintains his innocence. I haven't been innocent since the day I was created.
Before you say “Stop! You're fucking up what we know here. You and Cupid are the same person. There aren't two of you!” I will tell you that this is my story and I know the truth. I'd say ask Aphrodite if you don't believe me, but she's probably on a bender or off with her latest young thing. The last I heard she was shacked up in her villa in Olympus with some guy from Tucson. Before him, it was a guy from South Africa, and before him? Hell, I don't attempt to keep up anymore. Let’s just say that dear old Aphrodite doesn't like to be found when there are hot men around. She takes advantage of her powers and she does it often. She hasn't been to Earth in decades. She'll be floating on her favorite cloud, imagining the type of man she wants and, before long, he's right there with her. Aphrodite has a host of fan girls and boys who do her bidding, so if she says she's in the mood for a brunette with big muscles she gets one. She wants a skinny blond? You guessed it. He shows up. Of course she wipes their memories clean before sending them back to wherever they came from. I often laugh wondering how these guys explain to their significant others and employers where they've been for sometimes weeks at a time. It's a shame I've never been privy to those conversations. It would be great entertainment.
I've been stuck in the small town of Carlton, South Carolina for a couple of months now and my time is just about done. I'm given assignments, I do my job, then I move on to wherever it is that so-called love connections need to be made. I may not be as naive or ga-ga as Cupid, but I do have a job to do and I do it well. I bring the couples together, shoot my arrows of love and there you go. Love connection, fairy tale ending, blah, blah, blah. I only hang around long enough to make sure the arrows work their magic and then I move on to the next assignment. People fall in love every day all over the world, so it's obviously not just dependent on that other guy or me. We're only brought in for special cases. As in, a bit of creativity and immortal magic are needed for it to happen for whatever reason.
Getting the marks - aka the couples - together is sometimes a challenge, but I've managed to do it just fine for the past few centuries. The internet and technology have made my job much easier. Where before I had to go back to Olympus to get my assignments and do my research on the marks, now they're a click away on my phone or laptop. Aphrodite fought upgrading, but once she discovered the World Wide Web and all the men on there she was saying “Sign me up!” pretty damn quick. I've gotten all my couples together in Carlton and the surrounding areas, so now I'm to hang tight until I'm told where to go next.
I mentioned the arrow. The bow is a semi-permanent part of my body and only removed when I have my marks in sight. The arrows appear when they're supposed to and I do my job. They can't be seen by anyone, with the exception of other gods and goddesses and myself, unless they’re meant to be seen. Meaning that if the bow is visible, the person seeing it is in the presence of the one they're supposed to be with for the rest of their days. When I say they see it if they're meant to, I mean it's actually seen through my clothing. As tempting as it may be, I don't walk around topless all the time.
I occasionally wear a fake one in my performances, but it has no power. It's kind of my own inside joke. The tip of the real arrow is harmless, but it does emit a special love potion, if you will. Sometimes I have to get a bit creative. This only occurs when I'm shooting my arrows into people who don't see them at all until they make contact with their heart.
Now tell me, how is my shooting that arrow into someone who hasn't met the one the right thing to do? Shouldn't I let fate bring couples together instead of shooting arrows into people who aren't meant to be together?
Can you tell I'm jaded on so-called love?
I mentioned performances. Bartending and doing the occasional dance at a strip joint as my cover on Earth, I was asked by my human boss if I'd be willing to do a private party on my night off. All I'd have to do was show up with a female performer and hang around until it was over and perform myself if asked. Normally I'd be out partying on my own and another guy would go with her for protection, but Artie was adamant that I be the one. He offered to throw in an extra hundred if I went, so I eventually gave in. Of course, what Artie doesn't know is that I don't work for the money. Being the son of the goddess of love and beauty does have its perks. Having riches at my disposal is one of them.
It's not often I get to perform dancing and stripping duties for Artie, as a majority of the clientele show up at the club to see tits and ass, not cocks and balls. Sometimes there are private parties where I'm requested, but those are rare. I spend most of my shifts pouring cheap drinks for drunk perverts and then I leave and find a bit of action of my own. I rarely have a problem finding an ass or three to fuck. I haven't had to use my powers to get laid since I was a young god and even then it probably wasn't necessary.
If I had to pretend to play around with Aslyn and give the guys a show at the little party, I'd do what I needed to do to make sure she got paid well, even finding a way to throw my tips her way when it was over. A student at the local university, she strips for tuition, her husband's salary not being enough to cover it. She has the body to make a load of cash in tips. The hubby doesn't mind because he knows she's coming home to him each night. Sometimes he even watches her perform at the bar. He seems to get off on it. To each their own, I suppose.
How was I to know the opportunity would present itself to get laid while helping her? Straight guys hire a female stripper. Who would expect a gay or bi dude to be in the mix? And did I mention that said fuck guy was the groom, of all people? You know, the man who was supposed to be getting married soon. Had I known that... yeah, I'd still have had sex with him, but I wouldn't have thought much of the guy. I'd have wanted to sic my brother Anteros on his ass. After I was done with it anyway.
Don't judge me. I like sex and if the guy is willing, well, so am I.
I showed up at the large lake house in the middle of nowhere wearing my usual get-up - black leather pants with a red g-string underneath, a white shirt buttoned up the front, and my black hair brushed straight to my shoulders. A little eyeliner completed the look, along with black shoes that could be kicked off easily. I followed Aslyn in my own vehicle and we were to put on our show together. Aslyn, a buxom blonde wearing nothing more than her own g-string and short red dress and heels, would work her magic, do a few lap dances for the straight boys in attendance and we'd move on a few hundred dollars richer. How was I to know the groom wasn't as straight as his future bride probably believed him to be? It's not like it was listed on the assignment card given to us when we left the club. As far as we knew, they were all horny straight guys and would get their jollies watching Aslyn shake her ass and bounce her breasts around.
We walked inside the large lake house and started dancing together as soon as the prearranged music began. My hands were touching her ass and I was pulling her tight against the front of my body. Had I been straight, I'd have likely been as hard as steel, but the reason Aslyn likes working with me is because I don't want to have sex with her. Her husband, maybe, but not her.
I'd never share that. I may be immortal, but I'm not stupid. He's a big guy.
Before long, Aslyn was down to her g-string and heels and there was whooping and hollering by the half dozen or so guys in the room. I was behind her with my hands on her hips while hers were squeezing her boobs as she gyrated her ass against the front of my body.
“What about the guy?” someone asked from the other side of the room. I heard snickering, but kept doing what I was getting paid to do. “Hey man, it's your turn,” I heard from a different voice.
When it clicked that they wanted me to get more into the performance, I pulled away from the girl. Before long, I was watching the men as I started stripping off my clothes. Each time I've done this, I've had to hope I wasn't in a room full of homophobes. While they couldn't really kick my ass (immortal powers, remember?) I'd never want to put Aslyn in the position of getting hurt in the crossfire, so to speak. I'd also get in a lot of trouble with Aphrodite if my powers had to come out to play simply to defend myself and the girl.
My shirt came off with Aslyn now dancing behind me, wearing only her g-string and fuck-me heels. Her hands were rubbing up and down my chest and easing to the snap of my leather pants, her perky nipples pressed against my back. The feel of her hand on my dick and her boobs on my back didn't make it start filling. One hot guy sitting alone in a chair did. His eyes were on Aslyn's hand as she slowly slid my zipper over my g-string. When I saw the man's hand rubbing his dick through his jeans, I didn't care if he was watching Aslyn or what, I got as hard as stone.
In a well-choreographed move, my shoes were kicked off right before my leather pants were shoved down to my ankles. Kicking them off, I didn't take my eyes off the good looking man in the chair. I didn't hear the other men, nor did I care what they were doing at that point. My eyes were on the blond who was stroking his cock as he stared at me. Not Aslyn's boobs or her perky little ass. Me.
I was drawn to the chair as Aslyn danced behind me somewhere. I faintly heard the other guys as she did whatever she did to entertain. Standing in nothing but a thin piece of fabric, I slowly danced my way to the man in the chair, my cock head creeping over the elastic of the flimsy fabric covering it. I felt the wetness of my pre-cum, but I didn't care. All I cared about was watching this man, who looked like a god himself, stroke his dick through his jeans as he watched me. Long hair, he resembled a famous musician I'd always thought was sexy as sin. Thirty, maybe? His dark blond hair fell almost to his shoulders. I'd never been one for guys with long hair like me, but something was pulling me hard to this one. I'm always up for a quick fuck, but the tingling in my chest told me that taking this man would be different from the thousands of others I've had in my lifetime.
I didn't stop to dwell on that.
When I was directly in front of him, he motioned to the others and I turned my head to see his friends and Aslyn making their way out the front door. Her dress now back on - when did that happen? - Aslyn blew me a quick kiss and with a grin walked through it, the others following. I know she's not the type of girl to go farther than a private dance, but I didn't like her leaving with these total strangers.
“Hey,” the guy in the chair said, but I didn't look his way. My eyes were still on the door when he spoke again. I didn't care how hot he was or how bad I wanted him, I was brought there to protect Aslyn and I was going to.
“She's fine. They'll see her to her car and follow her back to the club if that's what she wants. They know the drill.”
“The what?” I asked, confused.
That voice.
Had I ever been so turned on strictly by the sound of a voice? I also had a strong feeling I'd heard that voice before, but I couldn't place where.
Still hesitant, I heard the four consecutive taps of a car horn, the “I'm good” signal from Aslyn, and I turned back.
“Come here,” he ordered.
I fell to my knees.
Never one to play submissive, I was questioning the hold this stranger had on me. I'm kind of a big guy. I don't come across as a sub in any way, shape, or form.
I’m the god of love and lust. I have men falling at my feet, not the other way around.
When his hands found my hair and he lifted my face so I could look into his light blue eyes, I no longer questioned anything.
“What's your name?” he asked me, his fingers running through my long hair.
“Eros.”
“Your real name.”
“Eros.”
His brow went up, but he didn't push. His left hand still in my hair, he slid his right one down to my chest, his fingers stopping to tug on my left nipple. My cock jumped and I gasped before I could stop myself. I leaned into his hand. He let go of my nipple and continued his journey down my chest until he was touching the head of my dick that was trying its damnedest to free itself from the flimsy fabric. A fingernail rubbed across my piss slit and I groaned out.
“You don't want to know my name, Eros?” he asked softly, his eyes never leaving mine.
I shook my head. Names don't count in my business unless it's couples I'm forced to bring together. I'm not a paid whore, but I'm known to take advantage when the opportunity presents itself. I've never been known for following the rules of my duties. If I want sex and a guy is willing, I'm not usually one to say no. I knew once this man was done with me, I'd never see him again. Why would I need a name? To call out when I jack off to the memory later? No. There wouldn't be any jerk off sessions involving this or any other man. Names are personal. I don't do personal.
“That's okay. I know yours.”
His thumbnail continued flicking back and forth over my slit. When he pulled it away and sucked his thumb in his mouth, I almost shot all over his jeans.
“Take it off,” he ordered.
I stood up and pushed the g-string down my body, leaving my erect cock standing at attention. I took a step back and waited. Finally getting control of whatever hold he had on me, I motioned to his fully clothed body.
“Your turn.”
He kicked off his shoes, his blue eyes sparkling. When his hand went to the button of his jeans, I almost shooed it away and undid it myself. My dick was aching, harder than I can ever remember it being. It was wanting to feel the heat of a tight ass or the warmth of a mouth. I took my cock in my hand and he licked his lips as he slowly slid his zipper down.
“Off.”
With a grin, he shoved his jeans down, taking his boxer briefs with them, and kicked them to the side, leaving his long and thick dick on display.
“Your shirt.”
He slowly unbuttoned his blue shirt and tossed it with the rest of his clothes before leaning back in the chair again, his eyes never leaving mine. I crawled over his lap, my knees ending on each side of his thighs. I leaned down and slid my tongue back and forth across his lips. His hands came up and gripped my hips, attempting to pull me tight against him. My dick was inches from his, but I held my body back a little.
His mouth opened for my tongue and I dove in. The kiss felt familiar, like we'd done this before. For some reason, the way our tongues moved against each other and his moans in my mouth felt like déjà vu. I knew I'd never laid eyes on him before this night, much less kissed or had sex with him. I may not remember details about all the fucks I've had over the years, but no way would I have not remembered every single detail of this particular man. Even if I’d only seen him in a crowd on the street, I'd remember.
When he again attempted to pull me down, I allowed him to. Our cocks were grinding against each other as he held me hard against his body, his hands on my bare ass. The heat of his erection had me almost coming before he even got inside me.
Inside me?
What the fuck?
I was about to pull back and let him know that I don't bottom, ever, but then a finger rubbed across my asshole and I was lost. If he wanted to fuck me, I'd bend over for him right then and there.
My body was pressed flat against his, grinding my cock against his. My legs were splayed out behind me with my feet on the floor. My arms were wrapped around his neck as he continued to assault my mouth with his. His hands were gripping my ass, guiding the movements of our cocks as they ground against each other. Awkwardly, one of his hands went to the floor and he fumbled with something, never pulling out of the hot kiss. He mumbled something in my mouth and I pulled back.
“Supplies,” he whispered.
I pulled farther back and he continued to dig through what I saw was the pocket of his jeans. It took a few seconds of fumbling before he came back with a condom and a mini tube of lubricant. I took both from him and after a bit of fumbling of my own, I somehow managed to roll the latex over his hard cock and to open the lube packet. I didn't wait for him. I squeezed the lube into my hand and reached back and roughly shoved two fingers inside my asshole. I'd only been fucked a dozen or so times in my long life so it was tight and I knew there would be pain when he entered. I didn't care. All I cared about was getting his dick inside me.
I crawled off and got on my knees on the hardwood floor, my fingers continuing to fuck my ass. I looked at the man over my shoulder and his expression told me that he wanted it as bad as I did.
“Ready,” I murmured, though I knew I wasn't even close.
He was off the chair and on his knees before I finished speaking. He grabbed the lube packet from the floor where I'd thrown it and he lubed his fingers and slowly pressed them inside my hole after pulling mine away. He started with one, but before long there were two inside and he was stretching me as he fucked my ass with his long fingers. When he hit my prostate I cried out. I shoved my ass back, practically begging him to take me already.
“You weren't ready,” he whispered, his fingers still inside me.
“Now. Oh God, now,” I moaned.
He wasted no time getting in position. When I felt the head of his cock at my entrance, I tried to push back, but he held my hips still.
“No. We go slow.”
When the head eased inside, I flinched in pain and tightened around him. He softly rubbed my lower back until I relaxed.
“Okay?” he asked, his hands continuing to rub.
It still hurt, but I nodded anyway. It had been decades since my ass had been breached by anything other than my own fingers and a few select sex toys, so it took awhile for me to allow him to keep going. He slowly pressed each inch of his long dick inside me until he was fully seated. I took deep breaths and waited out the pain. He made quick jabs with his cock, taking it slow until the pain eased and my body relaxed.
“Go,” I grunted out.
He did.
His fingers pressed into my hips, he started out fucking me slow, but slow disappeared quickly as he got into it. The head of his dick was hitting my prostate with almost every thrust and I felt pleasure unlike anything I'd ever felt in my long life. With his balls slapping my ass, I moved my body back to meet each thrust. My dick was bouncing with the movements of our bodies, but I didn't touch it. I was making sounds I'd never made before, so lost in the sensations of the hard cock in my ass. A few minutes later, and with no warning other than a tingling in my balls, I was tightening around him and shooting my cum all over the floor without the aid of a hand. I howled out from the intensity of the orgasm. My vision blurred and I felt as if I'd pass out. Moments later, his fingernails dug into my flesh and he was moaning out as he emptied into the latex. He didn't move for a few seconds. My head was down as I attempted to catch my breath, his softening prick still inside my ass.
What just happened? I've been around for thousands of years, but there had never been sex as exciting, as pleasurable, as what I'd just had with this total stranger. This stranger who felt so familiar to me, as if we'd been together dozens of times. Everything from his hands on my waist, his kiss, to the way he moved in and out as he took me. All of it was oddly familiar.
It scared the shit out of me.
I pulled away, ignoring the pain of his cock slipping out of my asshole. Still on my knees, I looked around the room for my clothes. I knew I had to get out of there. I was in the process of standing up when I was stopped by a hand on my shoulder.
“Don't go. Not yet.”
Rooted to the spot, I watched as he disposed of the condom and cleaned my spunk off the floor. I felt so vulnerable, a feeling I've never felt in my long life. When he was done, he sat back down in the chair and held his hand out to me. I allowed him to pull me back into his lap, his wet dick pressing against my ass. With his arms around me, he rocked me a little, which was a bit awkward at first considering he's at least as tall as I am. His hand rubbed up and down my thigh and up to my chest. The tingling I had been feeling in my chest had intensified. It wasn't a painful sensation, it was almost pleasurable, actually, but it was another first for me.
I reached a hand up and rubbed my chest, feeling the translucent bow and arrow that is forever attached to my body. I have carried this bow and arrow since my creation. The tingling I was feeling under the bow wasn't exactly the same feeling I get when mates have found each other, and my job is done until my next assignment, but it was close. The only difference is that what I was feeling in this man's lap was magnified by at least five-thousand compared to when I'm bringing the marks together. There was also a feeling of thousands of butterflies going crazy in my stomach and I had an odd feeling in my heart. Before I had a chance to analyze why that was, his fingers outlined the bow across my chest, starting at my shoulders and going all the way down my chest. He continued until he had traced the entire outline with his fingers. I didn't move a muscle.
“Nice tat,” he said, his fingers still touching the bow. “I don't know how I didn't notice it earlier.” He chuckled. “I guess I was too wrapped up in getting inside you.”
I froze. He could see it?
“Um,” I mumbled into his chest, “is your boyfriend around? Girlfriend?”
“Just you and me, Eros. There's no one around here for miles. The first time I saw you-”
I looked up at him, cutting him off.
“The first time you saw me?”
“Yes, I was inside Rocks a few weeks ago with my friends and saw you working the bar. The others were there to see the girls, but I obviously didn't care about that. I wanted to be inside you the instant I saw you, but you disappeared before I had a chance to make a move. I had no idea I'd actually get you for my bachelor party after being told you didn't do many private parties. How awesome is that? My jack-off fantasy here in the flesh.” He smirked. “Literally.”
I jumped up and scrambled to grab my clothes that were thrown while I was dancing.
“Your bachelor party?”
He was out of the chair and had his hands on my shoulders before I realized it.
“Yeah, bachelor party. You were requested specifically after I saw you that night. I didn't know all this would happen, but I had hoped.”
I pulled away and jerked my leather pants up, leaving the g-string where it had landed earlier. I grabbed my shirt with shaky hands and quickly put it on, not bothering to button it. I looked around for my shoes and was rushing to them when it hit. I turned back to look at him across the room. I pointed at my chest.
“You can see this?”
“Yes,” he answered like he was speaking to a child. “It's a nice tat. Excellent work. I'd love to know who your artist is. I've been thinking about getting one, but nev-”
“Stop!” I screeched. “Where's your fiancé?”
“Out with her friends probably doing what I just did with you.”
“Her? Are you kidding me?” I growled. “She's not here? Anywhere?”
“Eros, calm down. She's off having her own little party. She flew to Vegas. She's not even in the same state.”
“There's no one else? Here, I mean?”
He walked to me and stopped me with a look.
“What's got you panicked? We're miles away from anyone. There's no one here but you,” he leaned in and kissed me, “and me. The guys and your girl left when they saw what was about to happen with us.” He turned away from me, walked to a window and motioned for me to follow. Pulling the curtain back, he pointed to the darkness beyond the window. The only light was that of the moon. “See, only two vehicles here, mine and I assume the other one is yours. There's no one else. If you're worried about Kay popping in, stop it. Again, she's in Vegas. She knows I'm gay anyway.”
I could barely see the hoods of both cars in the poor light, but I didn't see any others nearby.
That didn't reassure me.
“You can see this?” I pointed to my chest again. “You're not supposed to ... unless... shit. I have to go.”
I rushed to the door, tripping over my shoes. I grabbed them and my jacket as I dug in my pocket for my keys. I rushed out the door without bothering to put my shoes back on or to button my shirt. My hands shaking, I started the car and was backing out before the man who'd just had sex with me was even out the door.
I drove several miles before stopping in an abandoned parking lot. I put my head on the steering wheel and took deep breaths, cursing the fates that brought me out tonight. Why now? I've been around for thousands of years.
Why fucking now?
The only way someone could see the bow, outside of the marks and other gods, would be if they were the one I'm supposed to be with. I'd heard stories about so-called destined mates my entire life, but I never took stock in it. Hell, I bring so-called destined mates together. It's what I do. But there are millions of people on Earth. There are tens of thousands in Olympus. The odds are against gods coming in contact with their one, hence why we fuck around a lot. Look at Aphrodite. She's been sleeping with guys since the dawn of time and she still hasn't found her so-called one. She's found hundreds of her so-called right nows, but not the real one.
I lifted my head and looked out at the darkness surrounding the car.
Maybe there was somebody else around, but the man didn't want to mention it. A gardener or cook or something. The lake house sits alone miles away from other dwellings. It looked lived in, so surely he or whoever owned it would have a staff of some sort. Feeling a weight fall from my chest, I resigned myself to the fact that I'd been overreacting. Somewhere, maybe even in a car that drove by while I was being fucked, the guy's real mate was close.
The fact that he saw my tat, as he called it, meant nothing. It only meant that another person was nearby at the time. I told myself that the familiarity could be explained because I had just compared him to the hot musician in my head right before we had sex. Of course, that's what it was. God knows I'd fantasized about being with the guy many times, so that's why it felt the way it did with the man at the lake house. I was projecting how I'd often imagined it to be.
That had to be it.
Nah, I didn't buy it either, but I was grasping at anything that might calm me down a little.
Feeling a little better about the situation, I put my car in drive and drove out of the lot. I was almost to my apartment building when I got a text. When I stopped at a red light I looked at it and groaned. So much for going home.