Caroline twirls again, her laughter spilling across the room, and my heart does that stupid flip thing that should really be medically concerning by now.
I grin so wide it hurts.
"So..." Luke starts, "... be honest—tonight the night you finally get laid?"
I blink. "What?"
Liam snorts. "Don't play dumb, man. Prom night. Girlfriend. Perfect storm. You're not seriously telling me you're going home alone, are you?"
I drag a hand down my face. "Oh my God, you guys are unbelievable."
Luke leans back in his chair, arms crossed, smile pure devilry. "Come on, dude. What more perfect timing than prom night? That's like, prime 'losing-your-virginity' energy right there."
Liam nods sagely, raising his drink. "Facts. It's a rite of passage. Shakespeare wrote about it, probably."
I smack the back of his head. "Do your brains ever think about anything besides sex?"
They both stare at me for half a beat, dead serious. "Not really."
I snort. "You two are walking hormone grenades. I bet your search histories could land you on some FBI list."
That makes Cody spit out his drink laughing. "He's not wrong."
I shake my head, grinning despite myself. "Anyway, no. I'm not rushing that. There's no schedule for it. We literally just got together. The timing's gotta be right."
Luke whistles. "Dude, what more right timing do you want? You just had the most romantic prom night ever—this is textbook."
"Textbook for you maybe," I shoot back. "You think with your dick."
Liam points his drink at me like he's giving a lecture. "Hey, that's not true. Sometimes we use our brains to plan what the dick does next."
I groan. "You two seriously need professional help."
They both laugh, clinking cups.
"Besides," I add, "I don't even know if Caroline's ready for that. I'm not about to pressure her. Both people have to want it, you know?"
Cody leans in, smirking. "You'll never know if you don't ask."
I go quiet, thinking about it for a second.Ask?Yeah, sure. Let me just walk up and be like, "Hey babe, wanna have sex?" Totally normal. Totally not creepy.
The truth? I have no idea how to even start that conversation.
What if she thinks I'm some horny caveman who can't control himself? Which, okay—fair. Because lately, it's been a goddamn struggle.
Every time I kiss her, it's like my brain just...malfunctions.Full system crash. No thoughts. No logic. Just pure, stupid wanting.
Doesn't even have to be deep—just one soft brush of her lips and I'm gone. It's like she flips a switch somewhere in my spine, and suddenly my body's a live wire. My heart sprints, my lungs forget how to function, and my—well, let's just saybelow the beltgoes rogue every single time.
Which is why I've been purposely keeping it PG lately—chaste kisses, safe distances, hands so fucking restrained they might as well have been cuffed.
But every goddamn time I see her, the thought of that kiss from two weeks ago would come roaring back, and I'd be hard as fucking steel, my cock begging for release.
It's been brutal.
My hands arethisclose to filing for rebellion after all theextra shiftsthey've been pulling lately. They're probablydeveloped a permanent cramp from the nightly ritual of trying to take the edge off.
Nothing helps. I see her, I want her, I ache—it's become my new normal.
