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Relief flooded over me, even as cold currents of guilt pulled at me like undertow.
I fixed him some instant mac and cheese. He’d been planning to eat with me, which made me feel even more guilty, even though I reminded myself that he’d never told me he was coming in the first place.
Eventually we began to make out.
Which led to sex.
I’m not going to lie: I did it because it was expected of me. And I did it because I felt guilty. And I did it because to not do it would have provoked a terrible fight, and made him angry and suspicious and impossible to be around.
It was nice, though. I enjoyed it. Like when he kissed me earlier, having sex with him felt familiar and safe. It was… pleasant.
I didn’t mind that he only lasted a couple of minutes, though.
We lay in bed talking for a good half hour – about Syracuse, about the next year, about our future together. Then we started kissing again. This time he went down on me without being prompted. I told you he was very considerate.
Normally I like oral a lot, but I wasn’t feeling it tonight. I could tell he was getting frustrated by my lack of response. I had two options: I could either fake an orgasm – which I was horrible at, and which would raise red flags – or I could actually try to have one. I know it’s really, really bad of me, but I’d fantasized before about other men when I was having a hard time getting off. Channing Tatum. Ryan Gosling.
This time… I thought of Derek.
I thought of him between my legs. I thought of me gripping his hair as he kissed me, licked me, pleased me with his tongue. I thought of feeling his strong hands caressing me, watching his broad back and the muscles rippling under his tattoos…
I came pretty quickly.
Afterwards Kevin entered me, finished, and drifted off to sleep. I lay there next to him, tears staining my pillow, hating myself for what a horrible person I had become.
38
The next day passed uneventfully. We slept late, had sex, got up, and had breakfast at the dining hall. We came back to the room, showered, walked downtown, and poked around in the shops. We had lunch at the Grill, an Athens institution (kind of like a hipster greasy spoon diner with the option of getting tofu in everything).
I intentionally steered Kevin away from the gyro place. When we passed by it, I got a queasy feeling in my stomach.
Other than that, it was a very pleasant afternoon. We decided to eat dinner at the dining hall, watch a movie in my room, and have an early evening in.
Well, Kevin wanted an early evening in – which was code for more sex.
Maybe it was stupidity, or maybe it was a subconscious desire to get caught… but I completely forgot that Derek was coming by at 5 o’clock.
Until I heard the knock on the door.
I froze. My entire body was petrified.
Kevin looked at me from where he was sprawled out on the bed. “Aren’t you going to get that?”
“…yeah,” I said, and walked over, stiff as a robot.
I flung open the door.
There he was, gorgeous as ever. He was wearing his customary jeans, a tight black t-shirt over his muscular torso, and a perplexed look on his face. He must have heard the male voice through the door, and was apparently still processing the information.
“Derek! Hi!” I said in an artificially chirpy voice, my face warped into an exaggerated smile. “Shanna’s not here right now!”
I was just waiting for him to say, I didn’t come to see Shanna.
Or to bust me some other way, intentionally or not.
But he didn’t.
Maybe he saw the terror in my eyes. Or maybe he’d been in situations like this before, player that he was.
Whatever the case, he didn’t miss a beat, and he didn’t betray me at all.
“Oh, that sucks,” he said nonchalantly. “Well, just tell her I stopped by, will you?”
I don’t know if it was my overall weirdness, or Derek’s sexy voice, or his own inherently jealous nature, but Kevin slipped off the bed and came padding over. “Who’s this?”
I could see it on Kevin’s face, and hear it in his tone: he was threatened. And slightly belligerent.
“Kevin, this is Derek,” I said with formal politeness. “Derek, Kevin. Derek’s one of Shanna’s… uh, friends.”
‘Friends’ seemed suitably vague. It could mean anything from actual, platonic friend to casual hookup.
I knew which way Kevin would take it.
Derek didn’t react at all. He reached over and offered his hand to Kevin. “You must be Kaitlyn’s boyfriend.”
“Uh… yeah,” Kevin said, glancing at me in distrust as he shook Derek’s hand. “How’d you know?”
“I just assumed. I heard her talk about her boyfriend before, but she never goes out with any guys. You’re from Syracuse, right?”
