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I get the TV on while Aiden looks around. He doesn’t look like he’s being judgmental, though, about my parents’ crummy wood-paneled basement with the old dartboard, my Dad’s comical man cave signs about beer and sports and lists of Man Cave rules.
I start the show, season one, episode one, and get comfy.
***
This is weird. This is so weird. In my parents’ basement with Aiden Carmichael. On a sofa bed that’s older than I am, maybe close to as old as our ages combined.
Aiden Carmichael that I just --- one hour ago --- kissed in my kitchen, against the wall with the calendar on it from our local pizza joint.
He has been absolutely amazing today. And I’ve seen this different side of him today. He also opened up about his family a little. And some of his mood swings lately are now kind of understandable. I’m not giving him a pass on all the alphahole behavior, but some of it… I can kind of get.
We finish an episode and another one is about to start.
“Do you want anything?” I turn to ask.
He’s right there. Right there. He’s on his side, facing me. I don’t even know when he was last looking at the TV.
“Yeah, I do.” He reaches up and tucks a stray lock of hair behind my ear.
I suck on my bottom lip and stare into his eyes.
Episode two is starting.
And my eyes are on him.
His eyes drop to my mouth. “Can I kiss you again? I really wanna kiss you.”
I’m barely nodding before he’s moved in and has his lips on mine. He touches them softly with his and then his hand sifts deep into my hair and he’s pulling me closer. I tumble down onto my side, facing him.
My hands go to his rock-hard chest. He’s warm. My hands drift up to his shoulders, his neck, his jaw, then into his hair.
I’m the one that deepens the kiss. I’m the one that slips my tongue in. But, when I do, he must see flashing green lights, because then it’s go, go, go.
I’m suddenly on my back and he’s on top of me, using his knee to part my legs. He’s getting hard against me and his hands are exploring my upper body. Up my arm, to
my jaw, touching my hair, then stroking my throat. And then his hand grazes the side of my boob and I let out a needy little sound.
He lets go and looks down at me. And he grinds into me a little.
I rise a few inches and nip his bottom lip and he groans and then he grinds his pelvis into me harder, deeper.
Oh my God.
“Fuck,” he whispers. “Wanted this from you for so long.”
I can’t help but giggle. He looks down at me questioningly.
“We’ve known each other… ten or eleven days.”
He laughs. “Sounds kinda silly when you do the math.”
“Kind of…” I agree.
“But, Carly,” he says. “It doesn’t change the fact that it’s true. I… I’ve pulled some shit on you and I’ve been a dick. But…”
“You have? No!” I fail at keeping a straight face.
He doesn’t crack a smile this time. If anything, he goes more serious. “This thing with us, I…”
