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“You look nice,” he says to Dora. “Hot date?”
“Yup.”
Yup? This morning he was a nice guy. Now he’s hot?
“You said he was just a nice guy?” Jesus, I need to take it down a notch before she starts to notice I’m feeling irrationally possessive.
Examining my face, she frowns in question. “H-he is…both t-those things.” Then turns back to Cole. “What’s g-going on w-with you?”
“Just busy being awesome.”
She giggles. “T-That must be a lot of work.”
“You bet it is.”
“Don’t you have something to say to me?” comes ripping out. Both of them turn and stare. Yeah, not my finest moment.
A beat later, a smirking Peterman slowly and deliberately screws the top back on the Nutella jar while staring me down. He places the dirty knife in the dishwasher––still staring me down. Then he says goodnight to Dora, walks out of the house chomping on his sandwich, and eyeballing me the entire way with a look that warns I’m going to pay for this later. He’s on to me. I’m never going to hear the end of it.
The front door closes and the kitchen is suddenly very quiet. Dora fidgets, laces her fingers together in front, and glances around avoiding eye contact. I can’t bring myself to make her feel better, to put her at ease, when I’m still pissed about having Peterman suck up all of her attention.
“It’s k-kind of private,” she says quietly. “D-do you think B-Brock will be home soon?”
Probably, he was meeting someone at the library to study. I nod. “Let’s go to my room.”
I walk ahead because I can’t watch her luscious ass and think straight at the same time. I’ve never been good at denying myself anything I wanted, and I’m not about to test the strength of that muscle now. Not when I’m holding onto my sanity by a very thin thread.
The moon shines brightly inside my bedroom. I turn on a lamp, walk straight to the wall of windows that overlook the beach, and lean my bare back against the cool glass. At this point, it’s wise to keep as much distance between us as possible. I can’t trust myself not to do something stupid.
Dora makes it halfway and stops. Standing in the middle of the room, she starts to fidget again.
“It’s okay, Dora. Just say it.”
“Okay…okay…I-I…” She huffs and paces in a circle, her curvy hips swinging, her small feet moving in quiet steps while I wait her out.
“I was having a g-great time tonight…”
Seriously? Is she going to torture me with a blow-by-blow of her date?
“…and I s-started thinking…” She glances up and my stomach clenches. “I don’t want to r-ruin it…because I’m…you k-know…inexperienced.”
Payback’s a bitch. I’m being punished for all the dumb shit I’ve done. That’s exactly what this is.
“Dora, most guys…” Words get stuck in my throat. Now I know how she feels all the time. I’m nearly choking on them, but she deserves to know the truth––even if it kills me. “Guys like being the first.” Shrugging, I continue, “It doesn’t make it right, but it’s true.”
“That’s not what I meant.” She exhales in frustration. “What I mean is…w-what if I d-don’t have a good experience? It could r-ruin the relationship.”
A fucked up sense of pride fills me. She’s worried that she could sour on the dude if he doesn’t make it good for her. In some backward way, it makes me happy that she’s not willing to settle for mediocrity.
“Which is w-why I’m h-here…I have s-something t-to ask you––a favor.”
Her bright white teeth dig into the fat part of her bottom lip and my dick wakes up and takes notice.
This is not the time, bro.
Somehow, I sac-up and resist the urge to squeeze my dick and readjust. This is my friend, after all. A good friend. A friend that I care about more than I should. Which means I can’t allow the fact that I haven’t gotten laid in months effect this relationship. That would be bad. Never thought I’d say these words in my lifetime, and yet there you have it––I don’t want to ruin my friendship with sex.
Brushing her long red hair off her shoulder, she laced her hands together and her big brown eyes meet mine…hopeful. My heart begins to pump faster and louder. It’s like my body knows something big is about to go down before I do.
“W-will you sleep with m-me?”
Good thing I’m already leaning against something because the blood just drained out of my head. “Sleep with you…You mean like a sleep over?”
By the look on her face, I’m way off target. Which is exactly what I was afraid of.
“No. No sleeping. Just s-sex. Just s-straight up sex––”
“Got it. Got it. You don’t have to keep repeating it…I…umm––”
“P-please just hear me out,” she blurts. “I n-need t-to do it with someone I t-trust. Someone I know will make m-my f-first time as good as it can be.”
