I reach out a hand, and run my fingers over a curl.Wow. Her hair is so incredibly soft. My mind is racing. How can I make her get I want more from her? She must have enjoyed the sex, or she wouldn’t have kept coming back for more—and when we kissed, she was just as into it as I was. But maybe my imagination’s running wild. After all, she just shut me down pretty sternly, and—fuck, I’m not used to overthinking shit like this. My confidence has hit rock bottom.
I prize two stray M&M’s out of the palm of her hand and lean over to put them on the bedside table, like I’m laying out an offering to the gods. I scoot back over to my side of the bed, but I can’t stop staring at her face.
You can’t kiss a girl in her sleep, dude. Thinkconsent.
I squeeze my eyes shut, twirling a strand of her hair around my finger instead, praying for sleep. Finally, I drift off, totally wiped from all the rumination.
I DREAM THAT CARRIE’S STRADDLINGme, her hair hanging around her like a cloak. I’m obsessed with her hair. I’m obsessed with her.
I turn my head to the side. Carrie is gone. I jump out of bed and head for the kitchen.
Adam is standing at the sink, rinsing out a coffee cup. “Looking for Carrie?”
“Where’d she go?”
“I was chilling on the couch when she left. I pretended to be asleep so it wasn’t awkward.”
“I didn’t hear her get up. Fuck…” I sigh.
“Did you guys—”
“Nope.”
Adam winces. “Sorry to hear that. You gonna be okay?”
He jerks his chin at my crotch.
“I think I’ll survive,” I deadpan.
“Dude, go take a shower while I bleach my eyes.”
“Please.” I snort. “You’ve seen way worse in this apartment.”
He pushes me to the hallway. “Get the fuck outta here.”
As I drag myself into the bathroom, I can’t help but think it absolutely sucks that Carrie left like that. We could’ve had breakfast together. Slowly but surely, she’s completely shredding my ego. She’s like my own personal blender, smooshing all my moods together, and fucking with my head.
I take an ice-cold shower and I’m toweling myself off when I spot her bra crumpled on the floor between the bathtub and the sink. I bend down.
“Great,” I sigh.
I hold it up for a better view. Dark red—it’s definitely hers. Just what I needed.
Back in my room, I toss the bra on the bed and collapse onto the mattress, groaning into the pillow, breathing in the trace of her scent, smelling her everywhere. On my sheets, on my skin, on the jersey she wore to bed—the one that’s folded up on my bedside table now.
I squint. The stray M&M’s have gone, and I don’t know why, but knowing she ate them makes me glad.
I roll onto my back and reach for her bra, shrugging the straps over my arms and arranging the cups over my pecs. I grab my phone and pull my best duckface.
DONOVAN:You forgot something!
I hit send.
CARRIE:OMG! Take it off! NOW!
DONOVAN:Nuh-uh. This is so silky soft against my nipples…
CARRIE:Ewww! Burn it, then!
