“You got your cardio in,” he winks, and then he throws his shirt on. Now he’s fully clothed, and it feels normal again. He looks like Dylan Etta again. Not a sex God, not a ripped puck boy, not the sweet sex-talker, just Dylan.
“Are you always so passionate?” I ask, throwing on the rest of my clothes.
“Passionate?” he questions.
“Yeah, you’re so… intimate. I never would have thought. I mean, you literally told me I’d be a good mom and that my future husband is a lucky man.”
He shrugs. “It’s true.” He stands awkwardly in the middle of my room.
“So, I’ll see you tomorrow morning?”
He nods. “It’s already tomorrow. I’ll see you in a few hours.”
“Okay.”
“Okay,” he says, turning to leave. “Moo?”
“Moo?” I ask.
“That was really hot.”
He leaves the room and then shuts the bedroom door behind him.
I fall onto my bed, and my mind races about what just happened, replaying every moment tonight. The party. The game. The truck. Him.
It was really hot.
15
Dylan
Her bedroom door clicks behind me, and as I walk through her place, I feel like I’m walking on cloud nine. Her body is insane. Her hair smells so clean and luscious. Her body tasted fruity like she lathered herself in lotion. Everything about tonight was intoxicating, yet I feel a pang of guilt because she had a few shots, and that alters brain chemistry. She let loose for once, and because I know how uptight she usually is, I hope she doesn’t see this as me taking advantage of her. Sure, I took advantage of using her as a free personal trainer. Her tagging me on socials has given me hundreds of followers, but it’s not like that with her. We’re real-life friends, and I’m worried I may have fucked that up just now. Especially when she wakes up sober. Right now I’m sober as fuck.
I leave her apartment and walk to my truck, unlocking it with the key fob. I get in and start it, taking a moment to breathe. I still taste her on my mouth, feel her wetness dried on my dick,but I can’t just go home right now and shower. I need to make sure she’s taken care of. Plus, I don’t need the guys questioning where I’ve been after they knew I drove Cecily home.
I want to go to Target, but it’s early in the morning, and Target isn’t open, so to the ghetto I go. I pull up into the parking lot where all the signs readSave Money Live Better.Hilarious. When I’m in Walmart, I immediately go to the condom aisle. I need to be better prepared for our next time. My eyes scan the shelves, wondering what else I could get. I coincidentally come across the Morning After pill. It’s in a protective casing, so I grab that for her. My eyes catch the vibrators on the bottom. Huh, that would be fun, wouldn’t it? I grab one of those, too.
I head to the only open cashier, place all the sex shit down, and almost chuckle. The old lady scans everything very unamused, and I’m thankful this is just another transaction to her. By the time I get in my truck, I’m convinced I’m going to pull an all-nighter.
I head back to Cecily’s apartment, and to my surprise, and maybe it’s my fault, the front door is unlocked. I knock lightly on her bedroom door to find her fast asleep under her blanket. I sneak in and place the Morning After pill on her dresser where she can see it. She lives alone, so I don’t have to worry about anyone else finding it. I search for a paper and a pencil.
Hope this is the right one.
I sneak out of her room and hesitate to leave. Something’s telling me to crash on her couch, but maybe that’s a horrible fucking idea. One foot after the other, I drag my tired ass out of her house. I lock the front door and click it shut. Now her couch is no longer an option.
Driving to my place feels like a lifetime, even though it’s just over ten minutes. A light is on in the kitchen, and fuck me, it must be Scott. I gear myself up for the questions and step inthrough the kitchen. He’s fast asleep on the couch, but he’s the lightest sleeper known to humanity.
He opens an eye and then closes it with a big smile. “Knew you’d get laid.”
“I didn’t.”
He hugs the pillow, keeping his eyes closed. “You expect me to believe that? She was all over you last night.”
I salute him, trudging down the hallway. I grab my phone and turn on the alarm for seven—two hours to sleep. I fall face-first on my bed and pass out.
The alarm wakes me up, and adrenaline courses through me. For a moment, I think I’m at Cecily’s place. My heart races as I glance around my room.
I sigh, sinking back into my bed. Dodged that bullet. My alarm won’t stop, so that’s my sign to take a hot shower, wash the night away, and try not to remember what Ce tasted like.
