Page 149 of Changed for You

God, being a woman sucks sometimes.

I never get good rest while bleeding, but after the confession I poured out to Jett, I knew my vulnerability wouldn’t let me rest for long. As I sit on the toilet, a gush flows from me, and embarrassment warms me all over.

I know Jett doesn’t care at all about shit like this, but the discomfort from my dreaded cycle isn’t exactly the impression I wanted to make moving in here.

More than that, I didn’t think that I’d be moving in, starting my period, and talking about the worst night of my life with the man I’m trying so hard not to fall for.

Yet all three have already happened, and I haven’t even spent one night here.

Running my hands along my face, I let myself sulk for a moment longer before cleaning myself up and putting on a fresh pair of panties that I grabbed from the closet. I stow the dirty ones in a separate pouch I have for dirty underwear.

Jett’s double vanity is dimly lit, giving me just the night light I need to ensure my silence. I put my phone on the charger in here when I changed earlier, so buying some time for myself, I check my messages.

SIENNA

Feeling any better, little faker?

I started my period thank you very much.

SIENNA

What a convenient way out of a lie.

Let me know what your schedule is like this week, lets do dinner. Don’t want to take time away from your boyfriend. Hehe.

I giggle to myself and like the message, before exiting out of the thread, not wanting to know what my best friend could be doing up at this hour. Two other messages are in the notification bubble at the top of my screen, one from Haven and one from the man I’m watching sleep.

Glazing over Haven’s text, I take a deep breath at the mild tingle in my stomach. A sharp cramp and a jittery swirl whoosh before I click the message to read it.

HAVEN

I was thinking tomorrow you could show me what you’ve got for the song so far?

Fast, so I don’t forget, I make a reminder to respond at a more appropriate time. As I tap to the last messages, my heart flutters, and I feel it in my throat. Seeing ten back-to-back messages from Jett feels like an excitement I’m not familiar with.

With shaky fingers, I hover his contact, opening our messages at a snail’s pace.