My stomach dropped as I guessed what he’d been about to say. “Fuck off.” I stepped around him, finding a pair of scissors in a drawer.
His hand brushed my shoulder. “What have you got there?”
“Nothing,” I said, too quickly, slapping his hand away
He smiled. “Did some online shopping?”
“Sure.” Didn’t he have better things to do than annoy me?
“Let me see what you bought.” He reached out a second time, but I elbowed him aside, maybe too roughly.
He stared at me, a crease forming between his brows and I knew what he’d do a second before he did it. Maybe it was years of being on the soccer field together. He lunged, and I scrambled to get out of the way, dropping the box and scissors in the process. “Why are you so obsessed with me?” I demanded, scrambling to pick the things up.
He grabbed the box at the same time. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
“You literally don’t have any hobbies apart from staring at me like a creep.” My voice raised with every word, mostly from panic, as we both fell on the floor, wrestling with the box.
“Yeah, okay, Archie,” he said dryly, but his nonchalance was an act, because he was gripping the box so tight his knuckles were turning white. “You clearly don’t want me to see what you got —”
“Because it’s not your business!”
“Everything you do is my business.”
“This is what I mean!” I shouted, letting go of the box. Taylor tugged it close, eyes scanning the postage label. That’s when I jabbed my fingers into the soft part above his hip bones. He made a startled noise, twitching like he’d been zapped, and I yanked the package from him.
After picking up the scissors too, I stepped over his body, disappeared into my room, and locked the door behind me. Thankfully, the website was true to their word when theypromised discreet packaging, as the sender was simply ‘STGA Group’.
Using scissors to slice through the tape, I opened the package, revealing another box with a plastic window, showcasing the dildo. I swallowed. It looked bigger than I expected. I pulled it out and wrapped my hand around it, pleased at how soft the silicone was — it was almost velvety, and the toy itself had a good amount of flexibility. It also came with a satin storage bag, which would come useful when hiding the toy.
I wanted to use it immediately, except I couldn’t, not when Taylor was right outside. Idly, I wondered if he was still on the floor, and the thought made me laugh.
What a psycho. He’d made a whole speech about how he didn’t care about me, that he’d just used me, and yet he still wrestled with me over a box. A box! I’d blurted it out in the moment, but I was right: he didn’t have hobbies. He just watched people and found reasons to belittle them.
Now, I read the dildo box carefully. Since it was a silicone toy, it was important to use water-based lube. It could be washed with soap and warm water, and the suction base would stick to any flat surface. I’d use the toy later that night, when Taylor was either out or asleep. I hid the toy in the back of a drawer in my bedside table, and returned to my breakfast, which I’d left on the desk. The toast had gone cold, but I chomped it down and took the plate to the living room.
Taylor sat on the floor, eating breakfast off the coffee table. When I came out, he set his phone down and watched me rinse my bowl in the living room. I tried to avoid looking at him in the face, but I couldn’t help myself and met his eyes. I expected a glare or a scowl, but instead his mouth was a flat line.
“What?” I asked.
“I don’t know why you eat that stuff.” At my confused expression, he huffed. “Nutella toast. It’s all sugar and carbs, no protein.”
“What’s it to you?”
“You’re not getting enough protein.”
“And how do you know that? Do you track what I eat? Creep.”
“It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that a diet of toast, instant ramen, takeaway pizza and the occasional broccoli isn’t giving you the protein you need.” He paused. “That’s why you’re smaller than me.”
“I’m not smaller than you,” I snapped. “We’realmostsame height and —”
“The reason you’re not growing despite going to the gym,” he continued over me, “is because you’re not eating well.” He tilted his head. “Is it because your mummy isn’t cooking you dinner anymore?”
“Piss off.” I wasn’t in the mood to be lectured, and I was especially annoyed because he was right. I made chicken and greens maybe once a week. I tried to make pasta, but it always tasted like shit. My mum made delicious meals like beef stir fry or roast chicken. I should’ve asked her to teach me to cook when I had the chance.
I slid my gaze down Taylor’s body. Maybe he was a teensy tiny bit bigger than me.
“You know what this is?” Taylor asked, interrupting my thoughts, using his spoon to point at his breakfast.
