It happened again. He didn't know why or how, but it did and now there was no going back. Monty curled his lips into a disgruntled sneer as he eyed himself in the mirror. The circles under his bright hazel orbs were darker than before, but that was to be expected from yet another sleepless night. His bronze hair was facing different directions while the scratches on his arms were a bit soar. He wasn't happy with himself, and for good reason. He promised himself, not even a day ago that he wouldn't give in to the temptation. Unfortunately, he wasn't very reliable.
So there he stood in his bathroom, nothing but a towel covering his lower regions. The deed was done. With a sigh, he turned the faucet, allowing the water to filled his cupped hands. As he splashed water onto his face, Monty felt a slender arm wrap around his waist.
"Morning, sexy," she giggled as she kissed his shoulder. He turned off the water, glancing at her warily. She kissed his lips, but he didn't kiss back. He didn't even know why she was still standing in his presence. He pushed her away before giving her a small scowl.
"You can get dressed and get the fuck out," he said as he entered his bedroom with her right on his tail. "And Rebecca, don't forget your thong this time."
"For the hundredth time, you asshole, my name is Katie," she sneered, pulling on her clothes with haste.
"Whatever you say, Wendy." He stuck a cigarette between his lips and lit it as he shimmied into his basket ball shorts. He stood by his window, watching the cars fly by and the potential clients roam free. Blowing smoke from his lips, he heard the satisfying sound of a door being slammed. She was gone. It was for the best, for Monty was unable to give her what she needed. He was a man of lust, not love. No strings attached, that was his rule. He glanced at the time, frowning when he realized that his group session was going to start soon.
This would be his first day there. He wasn't really interested in it, but his roommate managed to talk him into going. So far, he wasn't off to a good start since he'd already broke his pact to himself. 'NO SEX,' was his plan, but next thing he knew, he was in bed with some random girl screaming underneath him, or in this case on top. Was he addicted? Yes. Would he admit it? No. Monty wasn't looking forward to being surrounded by addicts and psychos, crying about how their mothers wouldn't hug them. Though, to his dismay, he was obligated to go. He'd just sit there silently and count to one hundred as pathetic soul after pathetic soul spills their heart out to perfect strangers. Oh, what fun! He puffed more smoke before flicking the rest of his cancer stick out of the window.
"Let's get this over with," he muttered, grabbing his towel and heading back to the bathroom to shower.