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He catches me staring. "I'm starting to think you invited me out just to picture me naked."
"You invited me out."
"To picture you naked. Fuck. Freudian slip."
"You know about Freud?"
"Yeah. He's my idol. With him, everything was about dick. Dick was basically the center of the psyche."
I can't help but laugh. That's dead on. "It sums you up."
"Can't go three seconds without thinking about what I'm gonna do with mine."
"Touch yourself?"
"Here? I'll get arrested. But if you want it that badly—" He stands. Makes a show of reaching for his button.
Actually u
ndoes the button.
And the zipper.
He's still wearing that tight Speedo. But he's… He's not quite hard, but he's getting there. I can just make out the shape of his—
"More water?" The waiter drops off a carafe. Exchanges ours.
"Yeah. Thanks. I really worked up her thirst." Dean winks at me as he slides into his seat.
Tragically, he redoes the button of his jeans.
I force myself to stare into his eyes. This is so weird. Wanting him without all the hate rising in my gut.
Wanting him period.
The last time I wanted someone this much was…
That night in high school.
Don't get me wrong. I loved Alex. I loved having sex with him. But it was never tear your clothes off passion. It was comfortable. Easy. Safe.
"And me?" he asks.
"You?"
"How am I as a teacher?"
"Pushy."
He nods.
"Bossy."
"Of course."
"Annoying."
"And?"
