My head is spinning from good feels and confusion when he finally pulls away. I thought the whole point of a friends with benefits thing is that you only do the benefits part when the sex is happening.
Long kisses at the door and all the little touches and casual caresses Anthony has been giving me since we hooked up aren’t something you do with your situationship or your FWB, but things are probably different tonight because it’s new.
Things will go back to normal when the novelty wears off for him.
“See you around,” he murmurs in his sex voice and leans in to give me another long kiss that’s somehow both hot and heavy, and sweet and sensual.
“Bye,” I mumble like a moron when he pulls away again.
He pecks one more kiss against my lips, then flips the lock and pulls the door open.
I’m practically floating as I leave his room and head toward mine.
Tonight has been one of the weirdest, but also one of the best nights I’ve had in a long time.
23
ANTHONY
“Doyou think we should go over it again?” West chews on his bottom lip. “Do one more dress rehearsal?”
“I think we’ve got it,” I tell him. “Anything more and we’ll be overpreparing.”
“It’s so stupid.” He scrubs his hand through his fluffy hair. “I know it’s only a class project, and it’s only worth eight percent of our grade, but it’s like my nervous system can’t tell the difference between a presentation and being chased by hungry wolves.”
“Do you get stage fright?”
“Big time.” He leans back against my couch and spreads his knees in a classic manspreader pose. “I’m not shy or an introvert or anything like that, but it’s like I forget everything I’ve ever known about whatever I’m supposed to be presenting when I have to speak in public.” He huffs out a soft laugh. “I used to count ahead when we’d read out loud in class so I’d know which line or paragraph would be mine, and I’d practice it instead of listening to what everyone else was reading. And I still have nightmares about being asked to tell the class about myself or share a few interesting facts with everyone as an icebreaker.” He shoots me a sardonic smile. “I bet you don’t have that problem.”
“No, I don’t. But you’ll be fine.” I gently pat his thigh. “Just picture me naked if you get nervous.”
He bursts out laughing. “Yeah, likethat’sgoing to help. Then I’ll just be tongue-tiedandhave a giant boner instead of just being tongue-tied. That’s not going to be sus at all.”
“Does anything help with the nerves?”
He shakes his head, but stops abruptly. “Well, that’s not entirely true. Being drunk or high helps, but something tells me Professor Morris might not be happy with me showing up to class wasted.”
“That probably won’t go over well,” I agree.
“Are you sure we shouldn’t run through it one more time?” he asks, motioning to our laptops, which are still open on the coffee table in front of us.
“I’m sure.”
“I hate the waiting game,” he says and scrubs his hand through his hair in a move that I’m recognizing means he’s feeling out of sorts and his mind is racing.
“What do you mean?”
I’m pretty sure I know exactly what he’s talking about, but I’ve noticed that it helps when West names the things he’s struggling with so he can process it faster. It also helps me understand him better, so it’s a win-win for both of us.
“It’s kind of hard to explain without sounding like I’m insane, but it’s like I can’t wait for something to happen and keep going on with my life until it does. Like, if I have an appointment at one in the afternoon, I’ll start thinking about it the moment I wake up, and it’ll be one of the only things I can think about all day.” He sneaks a look at me, like he’s making sure I’m not laughing at him or judging him.
“I’ll make a plan to make sure I get there on time, like I need to get dressed at this time, and get in the car at this time because it’ll take X amount of time to get there. I’ll even buildin a little cushion for traffic or other delays to make sure I’m on time and prepared, and I’ll still be late and forget half of what I need because I spent so much time obsessing over the details that I get nothing else done all day. And I’m so flustered and overwhelmed from everything that’s piling up on me that I freeze or shut down and can’t do anything.” He shoots me a cynical smile. “Even explaining it makes me feel insane.”
“You’re not crazy,” I tell him. “That sounds like executive dysfunction and time blindness.”
“I’ve heard those terms,” he says, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “Are they ADHD things?”
I nod. “The twins are bad for that too, and it’s not their fault, the same as it isn’t yours.”
