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Lenny

I guess I had a remedy better than the candle after all.

My hand stills.

I suck my teeth, my cock twitching.

Definitely better than the lavender.

And just like that, I'm already thinking about the next time I'll see her.

My thumbs move, flying across the keyboard before I even realize what I'm typing.

Any chance you want to come to the game tonight? I can get you tickets. Maybe for you and… Dylan? The girl I can probably thank for dragging you to Luxe that night.

I tap my finger anxiously against the side of my phone, though I'm not sure why. I've thought about Lenny coming to a game since I started with the Gators.

Sure, before it was out of spite—I wanted her to see the life I had. The one I earned without her. The one she gave up when she decided I wasn't worth the move.

But it's different now.

Now I just… want her there.

Lenny

What time does it start?

7pm.

Those damn dots appear, then disappear again.

They do that too many times for my sanity, and the voice that's been sitting in the back of my head since all of this started gets a little louder.

The one that says nothing's really changed with her, and that I'm setting myself up to get burned again.

But it's not even fair.

If she can't come, or doesn't want to, that doesn't mean she's taking back everything we talked about. This… whatever we're doing… isn't the same as what we had before. It's not two years of history and a future built on plans and promises.

This is temporary. We both know it.

So her saying no to a game isn't the same as her saying no to the life we once planned.

Another buzz.

Lenny

We get off at the same time, so we'd be a little late. But if that's okay, then yeah. I'd love to.

And yet, reading that makes me breathe a little easier.

I can already picture her in the stands—black hair shining under the lights, her smile lighting up the stadium, my name stretched across her back.

It's like high school all over again, only this time I understand the weight of that view.

The thought of her watching me do what I love—those piercing eyes locked on mine, all that focus directed at me—settles deep in my chest.

My cock throbs between my legs, and I have to palm myself to ease the ache. I consider letting myself go there—here in bed, maybe in the shower. Letting my mind drift back to last night while I pretend it's her instead of my hand.