So, we’ve all got questions.
She sits up on the bare mattress, long hair swirling around her shoulders, barely covering a pair of truly phenomenal tits I’d still be staring at if I wasn’t half-convinced that I’ll never be able to get a boner again.
‘Sorry! I’m sorry.’ I suck the air in through my teeth as I cup my cock and balls to soothe and protect. If she comes at me again, I don’t know that I’ll survive. ‘I wasn’t awake. You surprised me.’
‘Yeah, well you surprised me when we got back to your room and there were no bloody sheets on your bed.’
The events of the previous night start to come back, forcing their way through a murky hungover memory. Hemden. The bar, the boys, too many beers and this girl. Not Breanna but something else that started with a B. Becca? Briony? She looks around my room, sniffing with disapproval, and I see our clothes on the floor but there’s no condom wrapper to be found. Nothing in the trash either. Goddamn it, I’malwayscareful, surely I didn’t do anything that stupid on my first night? When she reaches across to my desk for her phone, I see she’s wearing her underwear. Me too. So maybe we didn’t have sex? I’m sure I would remember but with the way my head is pounding, I could’ve hooked up with the entire Victoria’s Secret catalogue and struggled to recall. Note to self, beer over here is way stronger than it is at home and I am out of practice.
‘I suppose I should get going,’ she says but then she lies back on my bed which, call me crazy, doesn’t seem like the kind of thing someone would do if they really wanted to leave.
‘Uh, yeah.’ My breathing is shallow and I’m cradling my still throbbing junk in one hand, leaning awkwardly against the wall with the other. ‘Me too. I have soccer practice at nine.’
She flutters her eyelashes at me in a way that might’ve been charming if she didn’t just commit a gross act of violence against my most precious body part but she did so it isn’t. ‘Since you’re already late, why don’t you come back to bed and we can try again?’
‘What do you— I’m already late?’ I grab my own phone. Fuck, it’s almost nine. Then I look back at the girl in my bed. ‘What do you mean try again?’
‘It’s okay. You were jet-lagged, we were both drunk, I’m sure it happens all the time.’
‘It doesn’t happen to me.’
‘Sorry to be the one to tell you but it definitely does.’
Clothes spill out from my duffel as I rummage through, tossing pairs of jeans and khakis into the air in pursuit of a pair of sweatpants. There will be time to worry about my alleged failure to perform after I get to practice. Late on my first day, I can’t believe it. Somewhere across the Atlantic Ocean, I can hear my dad growling in his sleep.
‘Look, I’m sorry and all but I really have to get to practice.’
The grin I flash in her direction does nothing to improve the unimpressed look on her face, so I give up and toss her clothes onto the bed. ‘Why don’t you write down your name and number and I’ll give you a call later today.’
Right as she’s about to pull her dress over her head, she freezes.
‘What do you mean write down my name and number?’
‘Can’t call you if I don’t have your number, can I?’
I speak very slowly in case she’s just as hungover as I am, but she doesn’t look hungover. She lookspissed.
‘Ethan?’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘What’s my name?’
Shit.
Britney. Blake. Brooke. Bianca.
She tugs her dress into place, the fabric clinging to every curve, but I am far more concerned about the way her eyes narrow as she stares my way.
‘Very funny.’ I force a fake laugh as though it’s all a big joke and back away until my crotch is out of swinging range. ‘For real, I want your number. I really want to hang out again.’
I do not want to hang out again. I want this woman as far away from me as humanly possible. The room is too small for this kind of a showdown. Shirt, shorts and socks in hand, my back is pressedagainst the wall, the locked door only two steps away. I still don’t know if I can make it before she rips my dick clean off my body.
‘You’ve got to be joking,’ she says in a dangerously soft voice. ‘You can’t have forgotten already.’
‘In my defence, there’s a good chance I never knew it to begin with.’
The words aren’t even out of my mouth when I know I’ve fucked up.
