“How do you feel?” I ask him, scooting myself lower on the bed.
“I’m fine. Hey, what are you doing?”
“I’m looking at my dick’s new home,” I say simply. Then I smile gently and take the teasing tone out of my voice. “I just want to see that you’re okay.”
“Oh hell no,” Beck says, scrambling back and sitting up. I don’t miss the way he winces and put a hand on his ankle to settle him.
“Well, let's at least get you a warm washcloth and clean you up. It’ll feel nice, and?—”
“Brody! Fuck. Off. Alright? I said I’m fine.”
My eyes lock on his again, and I sense the change in him. This is what I was worried about.
“Do you… I mean, are you regretting it already?”
“I wasn’t until you started being a sappy girl about it, Brody.Damn.”
I roll my eyes. “Listen,Becky. Taking care of yourself or letting your partner do it for you is a normal, healthy thing to do after sex.”
“You're not my partner, Brody. We just had sex, that’s all. I’d rather take care of myself, thank you.”
That’s all?
Ouch.
“Yeah. Okay. I hear ya. I’ll go get you a washcloth and I’ll back off.” I don’t give him a chance to retort or argue, I need a moment to get my shit together because I’m caught between wanting to scream and rage or cry like the sappy girl he accused me of being.
I’m all mixed up.
I’m even more mixed up when I step outside my door, thankfully having pulled my underwear back on.
Jay and Aaron are standing in the kitchenette, both holding random groceries and staring back at me with wide eyes.
I stare. They stare. No one seems to know what to do or say, but I know that seeing them isn’t going to help me get through to Beck.
I point at the two of them, and then at the other bedrooms and gesture for them to get the fuck out while mouthing, “Get. Out. Now.” I double down with my best death glare and shake my head when Jay looks like he wants to say something. The two of them pick up the groceries and backtrack to the front door, keeping their eyes on me like I might attack. It’d be funny if I wasn’t so terrified of Beck seeing them and knowing we’d been caught. Considering Beck’s letterman jacket with his name embroidered below the letter “C” for captain is on the ground, there’s no chance they don’t know who I was just having the best sex of my life with. They also were likely privy to the fact that I just got rejected after the best sex of my life, and I don’t particularly want to deal with that either.
They silently leave the dorm, and the door clicks shut behind them. Turning on my heel, I march to the bathroom and quicklywet a washcloth with hot water. When I come out of the bathroom to give it to him, and suggest we talk, Beck is gone.
CHAPTER 25
BECK
I’m losing my mind.
Rephrase—I have lost my damn mind.
Not metaphorically. Not exaggerating for dramatic effect like Caty always accuses me of. I mean it in the very real, very existential sense that my entire world feels like it’s shifted six inches to the left, and my body hasn’t caught up yet.
Maybe it’s because I had sex for the first time in my life. Or maybe it’s because it was with Brody Miller. Or maybe it’s because somewhere between his dick in my ass and the way he held my face afterward, something inside me cracked open in a way that feels irreversible.
Whatever the reason, I’m freaking out.
More than a little.
Caty sits cross-legged on my dorm bed, eating pretzels and watching me pace like she’s observing a wildlife documentary on the mating habits of closeted jocks. When I finally admit what happened, not in explicit detail, but enough, she chokes on her pretzel.
“You had sex for the first time,” she wheezes, hitting her chest. “With Brody. And you’re both still alive to talk about it? This is huge.”
