For him to be kissing me.
But this is a dumb joke.
I stiffen. Outraged andhurt. Then, I slide my hand around his neck. He surprises me further by shivering, but steals my breath by doing this thing with his teeth that tugs on my bottom lip.
Because I can’t take this, I find his ear with my fingers, yank on it hard, then screech, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”
TWELVE
SORRY X 1000
“Did you take drugs?”
Rubbing my ear, I gape at her. “What? No! Oh, god, Denny, I’m so sorry!”
Fuck, that was the best kiss of my life and she thinks I’m stoned?!
Just being so close to her, feeling her curves, her softness, her warmth—she’s everything I knew she’d be.
And more.
Everything that I’ve been torturing myself with for close to two months has come to fruition.
Denny is the best I’ve ever had.
“If you weren’t high, then what did you think you were doing?”
My mouth works because this is worse than I expected.
I figured she’d punch me or something. Instead, she sounds hurt.
“I’m so sorry.”
Knowing I broke something, but unsure how to fix it, I twist around, shoulders hunched in shame, unable to even look at her.
Then she further decimates me: “Stop saying sorry! Does our friendship mean so little to you that you think it’s okay to humiliate me?”
Even as I’m floored by her take on this situation, I watch her go as she runs off, leaving all her stuff behind on the bench.
And I let her.
I don’t follow.
Because part of my brain’s racing at a hundred miles an hour while the rest is sluggishly crawling along.
My cock’s hard.
From a simple kiss.
But she thinks I betrayed her?
That makes my erection die.
She thinks I kissed her to humiliate her.
Thinks I chose my team over her.
Thinks that our friendship doesn’t matter.
