“There are exactly four condoms missing from that box. Figure out what that means, math teacher.”
She plops backward onto the mattress. Her hair fans out around her head and she narrows her eyes at the ceiling. I know she’s not still processing the information. She’s moved on to the next thought. I interrupt whatever she’s stewing on.
“They’re from my mom, by the way.”
She chokes on a laugh.
“What?” Her entire face lights up.
“The condoms are from my mother. One of her goofy care package items,” I explain.
Devon purses her lips and nods. She’s holding back. I can tell by the set of her jaw that she wants to bust my balls and is biting her tongue. Probably because it has to do with my mother. And she knows how worried I am about what’s going on back home with the finances.
“You can go there. I can see that brain of yours coming up with like a dozen mom jokes,” I say.
She scrubs her palms over her face and shakes her head.
“That’s not true. I have nothing to say about your mother encouraging you to be a man-whore—a safe and protectedman-whore. I think that’s a really lovely sentiment. I’m just wondering?—”
I lean forward a little so I can reach out and touch her hair, twirl it around a finger. She’s smirking up at me, her feet dangling and kicking over the edge of the bed. Seeing her like this, wrapped up in my towel, comfortable in my bed, makes me happier than it should. Too much joy is a dangerous thing. Especially if you’re not sure if the other person feels the joy the same way.
“Again, none of my business,” she starts, “but you are a really good-looking guy?—”
“Thank you.”
“And you are a foot doctor.”
“An orthopedic surgeon.”
“Right. That’s what I said.” She smiles. “And you’ve been here for like almost five months, right?”
“Is there a point coming soon?” I ask, tugging a little at the piece of hair I have and then releasing it.
She flips over, puts her chin in her palms, and props herself up on her elbows.
“I guess I’m just asking why. Why haven’t you used more condoms?” she asks.
I see a slight flush creep up her cheeks from her neck. This is interesting. Not only is it apparent that she cares about my answer from the way she’s studying my face, but it is fascinating that she’s clueless enough to even ask.
She doesn’t let me answer before she starts to babble. “I mean I’ve seen the way women respond to you and Kev told me that the nurses had a pool on who would get you in bed first. There can’t be a shortage of?—"
“I wanted you,” I interrupt. That simple.
Her lip quirks up on one side.
“The whole time?”
Now she’s just fishing.
I nod. “The whole time.”
And the truth is worth the dazzler she gives me. She crawls up the bed, puts one knee on either side of me so that the towel rides up, exposing just enough of her to get me hard. She kisses me sweetly and I slip a hand up the towel, move my hand against her in the way I know she likes. She whimpers. Pushes down against me.
“Devon,” I say in her ear.
“Hmmm?” Her eyes are closed as she grinds against my touch.
“It was worth the wait,” I tell her. Her eyes open and soften as she dips her forehead to mine.
