It’s been an exhausting day.
Just this morning, I sat through a grueling exam on defamation and criminal liability. Then I spent the first half of the afternoon writing an article about campus budget cuts, followed by three hours in the library editing West’s paper.
Now, I’m sitting through one of the most boring dates I’ve ever been on. I almost bailed on this date with Fred, but I hoped there might be a redeeming payoff at the end—a physical release I’ve been craving, especially after a taxing day like this. Is that an asshole thing to admit?
Probably. But do I care? Not in the slightest.
Fred isn’t captivating by any stretch of the imagination. He knows it; I certainly know it. So, at the end of the day, can’t a girl just try to get laid?
“—yeah, so I started off with just one forty-pound bottle of propane,” he drones on about his pottery project, seemingly oblivious to my rapidly diminishing interest. “But after about three firings, the bottle ran out, and I had to rush to the store to get a refill.”
My eyes threaten to glaze over as I murmur a few noncommittal “mhms” and “ohhs,” feigning interest.
“Very cool.”
“Yeah, and they don’t actually refill the bottles there—they just give you a new bottle. So, after a couple times of doing this, I just decided to get myself a second bottle.”
I force my eyes to stay open, nodding absent-mindedly. “Awesome.”
“Would you two like to split the check?” our server asks as she clears the plates from our table.
“Yes, please,” I say simultaneously as Fred responds with a polite, “No, thank you.”
I shake my head, giving him a wry smile. “It’s fine, actually. I’d like to split the bill.”
He agrees with a nod, handing over his credit card along with mine to the server. As she leaves, Fred, seemingly unstoppable, returns to his story. I groan internally.
Once the server returns, I take the opportunity to change the pace. “Hey, do you wanna head back to my apartment?
He cocks a brow, taken aback. “You don’t want to see the movie anymore?”
“I’d rather skip it,” I say, attempting a seductive tone.
“Really? I heard this film was supposed to be pretty good. Charlize Theron is one of my favorite actresses and—”
“Fred.” I reach out to brush his arm lightly, interrupting him. “I’d rather skip it so that we can hook up.”
“Oh?” He clears the sudden lump that seems to be stuck in his throat. “Yes. Definitely. Let’s go.”
When we reach my apartment, I unlock the door, grateful that Shannon offered to stay over at a friend’s for the night, giving me the house to myself. Or rather, giving Fred and me the house.
As we step inside, my guest meticulously removes his shoes, placing them neatly near the door. “Thank you for inviting me over.”
I offer him a half-smile. “Of course.”
After several long, awkward seconds pass by, his hesitance is apparent.
Taking the initiative, I grab his hand and guide him toward my room.
Once we’re tucked inside, he sits tentatively on the edge of my bed. I position myself, straddling him with a knee on either side of his thighs. But the silence is heavy as his arms hang limply by his sides.
I lean in, my voice soft yet firm. “You can touch me, you know?”
He wraps an arm around my waist, nervously pulling me closer. I lean back in to kiss him. His lips are gentle and warm, but the kiss doesn’t spark anything inside of me.
It’s nice, though. It’s fine.
I trail my kisses down his neck, nipping softly against his pulse point.
Within seconds, he pulls back.
“Sorry, could you not kiss me there?” he asks. “I don’t want to risk a hickey.”
“Oh,” I murmur, disappointed but understanding. “Sure.”
We lie down together on the bed, and I run my fingers through his hair, lightly tugging at the silky strands, bringing our mouths together in a hungry kiss.
“Not so rough,” he whispers against my lips.
Oh. My. God. I change course, writhing against him instead. His hands, seemingly encouraged by my movements, tenderly map out the curves of my body. Sitting upright, I strip away my top and swiftly unhook my bra.
Focusing on him now, I make short work of his shirt, my fingers moving toward the button on his jeans next. But his hand intercepts mine.
“Hold on,” he says, voice straining with desire. “Let me take care of you first.”
Surprised, but certainly not against it, I relax while he explores even lower. One hand moves to rest against my hip as he drags my shorts down, his trembling fingers trailing across my flushed skin.
“Is this fine?” he asks, uncertainty tinging his voice. I offer back a breathy confirmation. “Mhm.”
His fingers, though still shaky, slowly make their way toward my center, awkwardly exploring until one finally ventures inside me. Then he begins a tentative dance, moving it in and out, side to side.
The sensation is . . . strange. Oddly reminiscent of my last visit to the gynecologist.
“You okay?” he checks in, concern shadowing his face.
“Yep, maybe just—” I pause for a moment, carefully guiding his hand until it settles over my favorite spot. “Try right there.”
“Yeah, okay,” he complies willingly, his touch tracing slow circles around my clit.
“Yeah, that’s good.”
Leaning into his touch, my nose nudges against his chest. As soon as my lips graze his skin, however, his movements stop.
“That’s a little distracting,” he says. “Try not to kiss me while I’m doing this.”
“Um, okay,” I consent, but already, I can feel his fingers wander away from the promised land.
Oh, Jesus Christ. With my eyes squeezed shut, I realize I’m left with only one option. Yes, God help me, I’m going to fake an orgasm for this guy. I hold off a few more seconds before releasing a series of breathy moans.
“Did you come?” he asks, eyes heavy-lidded as he gazes down at me. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, as if he found pleasure in watching my little . . . performance just now.
“Uh-huh,” I mutter in response, hastily pulling my shorts back up.
Shifting onto my side, I trace a light path across his firm abdomen. “Did you want me to return the favor?”
“No, thank you.” Wait, what? “I just liked watching you.”
Well, I’m certainly not going to beg the guy to let me blow him. “Okay.”
“Do you want me to leave now?”
“Uh, no?” I say, although I would’ve preferred if he’d never come over in the first place.
“Okay, cool.” He seems relieved, nodding as he rolls over to retrieve his T-shirt. “Can I stay the night, then?”
“Sure . . .” I manage to whisper out, baffled.
In a haze, I ease off the bed and wander to my bathroom. I swiftly clean myself up. And when I return, I find Fred already deep in slumber, my bedcovers wrapped snugly around his lower body.
Well, it appears we’re going to sleep now. Together. As if this encounter could possibly get any more awkward.
 |
THE NEXT MORNING, I’m woken up by a loud knock on my apartment door.
I roll over, cringing when I collide with the Fred-shaped lump beside me. Last night was probably one of the worst nights of sleep I’ve ever had. Not only does Fred snore, but he also turned my bed into a fucking furnace. Regrettably, our date ended with me both sweaty and exhausted . . . and not in an enjoyable way. My shirt sticks to my skin as I slide out of bed. I take a few moments to adjust it, trying to conceal the strip of exposed skin
peeking above my shorts.
As I swing open the front door, the realization hits me that it’s well past nine in the morning.
“Oh, hey, Theo.” My greeting is laced with anxiety as I subconsciously tug at my bottom lip. God, I must look like a hot mess. “Sorry, I forgot you were coming by.”
“Uh . . . hey,” he says, his expression filled with confusion. “Where’s your sweatshirt?”
“Huh?” My gaze drops to my chest, puzzled.
“Your . . . lucky sweatshirt,” he clarifies, his nostrils flaring. “You’re not wearing it.”
“Oh?” I raise a brow. “Yeah . . . I mean, it’s not like I actually live in the thing.”
“Right.” His jaw tightens, his face glowing with an unreadable expression. “Of course not.”
“Right.” I return his odd gaze. “So, are you just gonna stare at me, or did you have something else you wanted to say?”
“Fuck, uh, sorry.” He rubs at the back of his neck, eyes flickering nervously across my face. “No, I just wanted to come by and bring you the coffee. Iced soy latte, right?”
“Mhm.” I reach out, gratefully accepting the chilled drink from his outstretched hand. “Thank you.”
“Sure,” he manages in a husky voice.
“Yeah, okay.” I shuffle in place, my gaze instinctively drifting toward my bedroom. “Well, not sure if you were hoping to say ‘hi’ or something, but Shan isn’t home right now.”
“Nah, I just—”
“Jade?” Fred’s voice, laced with concern, cuts through the quiet between us, emanating from down the hallway.
A wave of tension washes over me, my body going rigid as I find myself locked in a staring contest with West. His smirk leaves no room for misinterpretation.
“Who was that?”
“Ugh,” I groan, an involuntary reaction. “No one.”
“Wait,” he interjects, propping himself against the door frame. “Is there a guy in your room, Jade?”
“Unfortunately, yes.” I pinch my eyes shut. “Yes, there is.” “Damn, is he—”
“Jade, everything okay out there?” Fred calls out again, his voice reverberating through the living room.
“Oh my God. I wish he would just leave already,” I mumble under my breath, massaging my temples, utterly drained from the previous night’s sleepless ordeal. I place a pleading hand on West’s shoulder. “Wait . . . could you maybe help me get rid of him?”
He winces. “Uh, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Oh, come on, please?” I quietly plead. “Look, if you help me with this, I’ll um . . .” My voice trails off, a desperate whisper. “I’ll go to the banquet with you.”
That perks him up. “For real?” “Yes, I promise!”
“Fine.” His eyes twinkle with mischief. “It’s a deal. Tell me, do you ever want to see this guy again?”
“No, definitely not.”
“Well, in that case . . .” He cups both hands around his mouth to project his voice. “What the fuck is going on here, Jade?”
“It’s not what it looks like, I swear.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” West raises his voice even higher, his faux outrage echoing through the apartment. “After everything we’ve been through?”
I wince at the sound of Fred’s hurried footsteps approaching from the bedroom. I don’t have time to mentally prepare myself for the impending chaos. But, as they say, desperate times call for desperate measures.
A bewildered Fred appears from the hallway, confusion painting his features. “What’s going on out here?” he asks, his gaze flicking between West and me. “Jade, who is this?”
Assuming a protective stance, West slips his arm around my waist, drawing me closer. “I’m Theo, her fucking boyfriend,” he announces with a faux ferocity that’s as convincing as it is comical. “Who the hell are you?”
Caught off guard, Fred stammers, “Uh, shit, man.” His eyes dart to the floor as he shuffles toward the corner, hastily reaching for his shoes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know she had a boyfriend.”
“Yeah, well, she does,” West says, feigning a menacing tone. “So why don’t you get the fuck out of here?”
“Yeah, yeah, definitely.” The awkward shuffle becomes more pronounced as Fred maneuvers to put his shoes on and make his escape, all
while avoiding eye contact. “I’m already gone.”
West tactfully steps out of the doorway, making room for Fred’s swift exit and pulling me along with him.
“Sorry, Freddy!” I call out, stifling a giggle. The man practically sprints toward the elevator, desperate to leave. When he’s finally out of sight, I gently close the door behind him and press my forehead against the wood, cheeks flushing.
“Jade, come on,” West exclaims, failing to hold back a hearty laugh. “Is that seriously the type of guy you’re bringing home?”
I release a sigh, dropping my shoulders in resignation. “What? Fred’s a nice guy.”
“Mhm, yeah, nice.” He snorts, a touch of amusement in his voice. “I think he just about pissed himself.”
“I mean, to be fair, you were kind of scary.”
His laughter bubbles up again, soft and low, and I suppress a shiver at the pleasant timbre of it. “Yeah?” He seems amused at the concept. “Good scary?”
I can’t help the small smile that tugs at my lips. “To be honest, yes?”
“Hmm,” he muses, drawing out the word with a slow, considering grin. “So that’s what you’re into, then?”
“What do you mean?”
“The whole jealousy thing? Do you like it when a guy is possessive over you?”
“I don’t really know.” His gaze continues to bore into me, making me shift uncomfortably. “I’ve never been with a guy like that.”
“So, what, you’ve just been with a bunch of nice guys, then? Little Freddy clones?”
“Pretty much.”
“Well, that must be fucking boring for you.”
“Pretty much,” I echo back, laughter escaping my lips.
“If you’re actually bored, why do you keep going for guys like that?”
“I don’t know, really.” I chew on my lower lip, trying to come up with an answer that makes some sort of sense. “I guess it stops me from caring too much. Besides, that’s the only type of guy that seems to go for me.”
He raises both brows, clearly unconvinced. “I highly doubt that.” “Why?”
“Jade, you’re cool and funny and smart. Not to mention your body is—” His gaze drops down to my hips, lingering there before slowly raking up my legs and then back to my eyes. “Well, you’re really fucking hot.”
Flustered, I manage to stammer out, “Right,” as a blush spreads from my neck to my cheeks. “I am a force to be reckoned with, after all.”
His grin broadens, amusement evident in his expression. “Yeah, and I’m smart as hell.”
“Damn right,” I say with a chuckle. “Well, er, anyway, thanks for the latte.”
“Of course.”
For a moment, I just look at him, a kind of mutual silence settling between us. But after a second, for whatever reason, I find the intensity of his gaze uncomfortable, and I’m compelled to break the silence. “You know, you don’t actually have to bring me coffee every day.”
He frowns at that, confusion lining his features. “A deal’s a deal, Jade.” “Right, about that.”
“What, you’re seriously trying to back out of the banquet already?” he teases, but there’s a hint of genuine surprise in his tone.
“No.” I shake my head, dismissing his suspicion. “I just want to make sure that it’s just a casual thing. You know . . . a double roomie hangout.”
“For sure, of course. Shan’s date is actually a pretty cool guy.” His voice slows a bit, as if he’s carefully considering his next words. “I think you guys would get along.”
“Yeah?” I ask. “What’s his name?” “Camden Scott.”
“Wait, really, the linebacker Camden Scott? That guy is massive.” His jaw clenches slightly. “You know him?”
“I mean, I’ve just noticed him on the field. The guy’s incredible. He’s one of the best defensive players on your team.”
He rolls his eyes, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. “Right, of course.
So, you noticed Cam out on the field but not me?”
“Sorry!” I say, feeling a twinge of guilt. “I told you that I don’t get to cover the football games. The Daily keeps me pretty busy with other stuff. But when I do make it, I mostly keep an eye on the defensive side.”
His brows knit together. “And why’s that?” “Ah, um, because my brother’s a cornerback.”
“Oh?” He tilts his head. “I didn’t realize your brother played football.
Was he on a college team?” “Mhm.”
“Cool,” he says, an approving nod following his words. “What school?” “Solberg.”
“Sweet, they have a good team. Did he ever think about going pro?”
I tense at the question. This is exactly why I didn’t tell him about my brother in the first place. Knowing Mica’s status always seems to change things for people. And with West, who wants to be drafted himself, I fear his shadow might eclipse our every conversation.
“Um, yeah, he did,” I say, steering the discussion toward something neutral. “Hey, look, I actually have a really busy day today. I’m gonna go get ready, but thank you again for the coffee.”
“Oh, yeah, sure,” he says, offering me a warm smile. In a surprising move, he reaches out to tuck a stray curl behind my ear. “No problem.”
A little startled, I clear my throat, stepping back. “And thanks for helping me with Fred.”
“Anytime,” he says, and I swear his gaze lingers on me a moment longer than necessary. “See ya, Jade.”
“Bye, Theo,” I say.
And then, as the door clicks shut, I linger there in the silence, my heartbeat echoing in the empty space, the heat of his unexpected touch burning against the shell of my ear.
