I wrap my arm tighter around her and press my face into the spot under her ear where her hair is damp with sweat.
“Bens.”
I love when she calls me that. There’s a slight high-pitched sound that leaves her tongue at the s-sound, and I adore it. I tilt her chin up and kiss her. She lets her tongue linger against mine for a beat longer than I expect, and I am, suddenly, starving again. I deepen the kiss. My hand slides up her ribcage. The pad of my thumb finds the underside of her Camdenst.
She laughs into my mouth. “Benson.”
I pull back and search her face. I’m trying not to put too much on my face. “What?” I whisper.
“Look at the time.”
I turn my head to the alarm clock on the desk. It’s past two in the morning. Jesus Christ. How long were we — I close my eyes and Camdenthe out a small laugh against her hair.
“I should get going,” she says.
I pull her tighter. “You can stay.”
“I can’t stay, Bens.”
“You can.”
“Gianna will notice if she hasn’t already.”
I twist a piece of her hair between two fingers and let it fall. “Gianna will be at the rink at six. You can stay.”
“Benson, I should go.”
I’m going to lose this argument. I watch her sit up. The comforter slides down, and her bare back is in the lamplight. She slides off the bed.
“You can shower here,” I offer. “Put on one of my shirts, and I’ll take you home.”
She turns to look at me. She’s more beautiful than ever with rosy cheeks and a glow that wasn’t there a few hours ago. She pulls her bra off the floor and clasps it on.
“I really should go home. Sorry.”
Now I feel like a dick. “Don’t be sorry.”
She bends down to pick up her underwear. I watch her bend down. My dick is still hard with the condom on, lying on my leg.She grabs her jeans, so I roll out of bed and get dressed. I deal with the condom in the bathroom across the hall. I splash cold water on my face. I look at myself in the mirror for a beat — the lip is mostly healed, my hair is destroyed, and I have, on the side of my neck, a small red mark from her teeth. I grin at the mirror.
I come back into the room, and she’s fully dressed. Her hair is in a low knot at the back of her neck. I grab my hoodie off the back of the chair and pull it on. I find my keys in the pocket of my jeans.
“Ready?”
“Ready.”
I open the door. The music is on low downstairs, and I hear a low murmur of voices. It’s the stragglers after the party. Stanley is on the couch with a small group of people I don’t immediately recognize. There is a freshman on the other side of the couch who looks like he has been horizontal for some time.
Stanley looks up. “Reeve!”
“Stan.”
“Where the fuck have you—” He stops when he sees Lucy behind me on the stairs. “Oh.” He says it in the wrong voice. He stands up.
“Stanley,” I warn.
He crosses the living room in three steps. He has a beer in his right hand. He puts his arm around my shoulder and his other arm around Lucy’s, which makes her have to come down the last step faster than she wanted to, and he steers us both toward the wall by the kitchen where the whiteboard is hanging.
“Children. Gather. Let me show you the most important rule of this house.”
