It had been several days since the encounter with Mr. Monroe, but I couldn't help constantly daydreaming about it.
That last look...
Did he notice I was checking him out?
Of course he did...
He liked that I checked him out, didnt he? Did he think about it after he walked inside, or was it just amusing to him for the time it lasted?
Was he toying with me?
God I wished he would toy with me...
I began to become less shocked by the thoughts racing through my mind, and more focused on being noticed by him again...
I needed another look from him. One that would confirm or deny my imaginations...
I found myself wanting to be home should the opportunity arise. I spent those days at home waiting for that opportunity...
It was tough. I knew he and Clinton's mom, Laura, were recently divorced. He had the house to himself (a fact that had me drooling at the possibilities), but he was a long distance truck driver, so his schedule was impossible to predict. Most likely the reason he and Mrs. Monroe didn't last long after Clinton left for college.
His car was not in the driveway on Monday morning which meant he probably headed out late the night before. I stayed at home those next few days, waiting...
I ran to the windows and peeked out the blinds every time i heard a car coming down the street...
After far too many false alarms... on wenesday... I watched his car pull in the driveway...
