Layla woke up the next morning deliciously sore in all the right places and abrasions on her neck, between her breasts and thighs from his stubble, scruffy beard. Donning purple tights and a baggy grey sweater, her mind drifted off earlier that morning.

Joseph had reached out for her in the middle of the night making love to her again. Barely awake, her body moved as one with her thoughts, and she turned around to reach for his cock which had nestled against her butt, her back pressed tightly to his front, before dawn.

But wherever his cock was it definitely wasn't there anymore as the only thing she grabbed was air then a fistful of her bed sheets. Waking up after the best sex of your life only to clutch your Hogwarts house instead of the man himself was not a good feeling at all. The note he left on her side table soothed her hurt feelings. A bit.

Her eyes stung at the betrayal but she tried to keep it together. Last night was magical and wonderful. She wouldn't let Joseph's absence take that away. He must've been as reeled from the intensity of their lovemaking as she was. He'd probably needed a step back to think. A problem for her because she didn't plan to wait another seven years just to have him again. And for good.

Making her way downstairs Layla futilely glanced around the living room and kitchen. Seeing no sign of Joseph aside from the fact he picked up her clothes, put her forgotten ice cream back in the fridge and cleaned up before left, that he was there. And definitely gone.

The tears she kept at bay broke free, spilling down her cheeks as a wracking pain in her chest like a saw cutting into bone, weakened her knees. Slumping down to the kitchen floor, Layla sat on her backside with her back to the wall. Legs crossed at the ankles she pulled her knees to her chest, wrapped her arms around her legs and cried into her knees.

She didn't know how long she sat there but her bout of crying was soon replaced by mounting anger. Layla lifted her head and fiercely wiped away the tears from her face with the back of her hand.

Uncrossing her legs she stood up from the floor, stomped to the fridge door in short strides and grabbed four frozen waffles from the freezer. She popped them into the toaster then grabbed a plate and fork and knife from the dishwasher. As the toaster was busy toasting she rushed out the kitchen, passed the living room and up the stairs to her bedroom for her cell phone.

Her cell phone laid next to Joseph's note. The bold words of 'Didn't want to wake you. Sorry' glared up at her. She picked up the note and crumpled it in her fist. Then picked up her phone and swiped the screen for Bea's number.

"Layla," she murmured on the fifth ring. "Don't you know how early it is?"

"Sorry. But I just need." Her voice trembled.

"What's wrong?" asked Bea, instantly alert.

"I need...I hate men!"

"'Kay. Nough said. We'll be there in an hour. Wait for us and break out something strong."

Layla hiccuped and laughed. "Isn't it too early to be drinking?"

"It's after five somewhere in the world."

                                                             ✋✋❤❤✋✋❤❤

"Seven years!" Layla looked around at her mystic sisters sitting around her coffee table. "Seven years I've liked him girls. And just when I made my mind to stop he just shown up. Make me change my mind back. Then sneaks outta here like he stole something. Who does that?"

"A man," answered Bea.

"Maybe he had a good reason for it," said Jenna.

"The only reason he had was being a man."

"Or it could also be because he was as blown away by it as you were. And needed to think without being around your," Felicite' arched her brow and smiled, "charming influence."

"You guys got all that from 'didn't want to wake you. Sorry'?" Layla cocked her head in disbelief.

"Okay, Jenna and Felicite' ain't wrong. But it still comes down to him being a man. He had a taste of something good. Then freaked."

Bea stood up and addressed them all like a professor in front of her students.

"You see," she started, pacing back and forth between the coffee table and the loveseat, "Men are curious creatures of habit. "Like other mammals they need to eat and sleep to function. But where they differ is when they hunt. Men hunt for sport. A type of sport that allows him to delve his cock in as much possible as holes as possible. The only time they'll stop is when they're dead or have grown weary or have found the one."

She stopped pacing and placed her hands on her hips. Looking at each of them in turn then finally looking back at her Bea said, "Now from the marks I can still see on your neck, your man not dead. So that leaves two options to explain what happened between you two. Either you're the last fuck he'll have for a long time because he's tired of the hunt. Or you're the last woman he'll sleep with because you've ruined him for all other women."

Despite her see-saw emotions of hope and betrayal, anger and sadness, she felt the wilting feelings of hope blooming inside her chest.

"But that lays the problem. I'd rather the former than the latter.

With the former, at least the next woman he'll meet

"What?" Layla's forehead crunched in confusion. "Wouldn't it be better if I ruined him for any woman? Wouldn't that mean it's because he cares about? Might have fallen for me."

Jenna and Felicite' nodded their assessment as she said, "I prefer the latter. It means true love and happiness are in the works."

Bea slapped her thigh so hard they all jolted in surprised.

"That's it" She pointed a finger at Felicite' in all knowing triumph. "That's it right there. Love and happiness is what you're thinking. But really you're in for hell on earth because that would set man to freak the fuck out and run."

Layla's heart dropped out of her chest down her feet like a cinder block she was sure a hole opened up in her floor. Though crazy what Bea was saying made crazy sense. Layla didn't consider herself a heavy sleeper but how quiet did Joseph have to be sneak out of her place without waking her up. He even cleaned up quietly too. What was he? A ninja? A cat burglar?

But he left a note. A vague note that didn't a damn thing about talking later. He hadn't called either.

"So what's so better about the former part then?" asked Jenna.

"It's better only because it makes you," Bea sits down in the chaise, crossing her legs and point at each of them in turn, "the woman who makes the man sick of playing games and wanting more."

"Okay," Felicite' raises her hand as if she spotted a problem and can't wait to inform the teacher they're wrong. Getting to her knees she placed both hands on the coffee table and leaned forward. "By your explanation Bea, they both have the same outcomes. The man in question stops... you know-"

"Sticking his wick? Poking holes? Shoving his cock? Fucking? Come on. You can say it."

Felicite' rolled her eyes, clasped her hands and sat down on her calves. "Buying the milk in both scenarios. So why is one better than the other? And how does either help Layla?"

"Because it's better to be the woman who makes a man serious for the next woman in his life. Than the woman waiting and hurting for the man to man the fuck up and realize he's serious about making you his first last woman in his life."

They were all quiet mulling over her words. Layla understood exactly what Bea meant. Waiting sucks. She waited for seven years. And after one night of orgasmic sex worthy of being recorded in the Guinness World Records she was right back where she started. Waiting. And hurting. For a man who'd rather run away coyote ugly style. But instead of leaving a gnawed off arm he left a goddamned note.

She felt the sting behind her eyes like an approaching storm. She thought she was done with crying after this morning but seven years of waiting to finally get what you want only to have it yanked away had no statute of limitations.

Feeling weak and pathetic for the torch she'd been carrying around for her friend's older brother -one long overdue for putting out preferably by throwing it into the Atlantic- the tears came down unwillingly first as rivulets. Three pairs of arms wrapping around her made the damn burst and she was sobbing into her arms.

She didn't hear any of the words they said. Layla knew they offered her words of comforts as the patted her back, her hair and her arms. Comforting her, their touch therapeutic. One thing she did hear clearly was when Bea offered to go Lorena Bobbitt on his ass. To which Layla sobbed not to do it because she'd be sad if there was a world where his beautiful, big cock was no longer attached to him.

Which then led Bea to do something Layla never thought would be possible. Or would've mention as a woman who believed were tools women needed around and put away until the next time the need arises.

She offered a third option.