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“Knock, knock,” Chandra announces just outside my cracked bedroom door.
“Hey,” I call out from the entrance of my closet. “Are you getting ready to leave?”
“Yeah. I’m heading to the airport now.”
Dropping my shoes into the suitcase on the bed, I join her near the threshold where she’s standing with a roller bag resting at her side.
I throw my arms around her neck and say, “Have a safe trip.”
She pats me on the back. “You, too.”
“I will.” Backing up, I finger through the strands of hair near the front of my face. “And tell your family I said hello.”
“Will do. Tell the same to yours. I’m running late, and I need to get going.” Chandra grabs the handle of her bag and begins down the short hallway. “I’ll see you in a few weeks,” she calls back to me.
Then, moments later, I hear the door click shut after she exits the apartment.
Exams wrapped up yesterday, and we’re both leaving for the winter break between quarters. She’ll be visiting her family in India for the first time in three years. I, too, will be spending the holiday with my family, but unlike Chandra, I plan to return well before the New Year since my father is heading promptly to Europe on business, with my mother accompanying him. They will then be celebrating the turn of the year with family friends in Madrid, and I’d rather ring in the New Year on my own terms instead of being a part of the charade I’m required to play in their presence.
I finish packing the rest of my things for the trip on the Caribbean Sea. Then, I zip up my suitcase and roll it to rest near the front door, in anticipation of being picked up by the driver my mother arranged to arrive in about an hour.
Just enough time to run a quick errand.
Slipping my arms into my jacket, I scurry back to my room to retrieve the two sixteen-by-twenty-inch frames wrapped in brown paper that are resting just inside my closet. I shuffle out my door and down the steps, and then I begin the six-block walk toward Foster’s apartment.
While I’ve seen him at work this past week, we haven’t spent any social time together due to exams. Yes, we’ve progressed to booty-call buddies, but neither of us has made the gesture to get together like that for a few days, both being so busy.
The past weeks with Foster have been…interesting. When I first met him, never would I have imagined in my wildest and craziest dreams—and there are many—that he and I would morph into hook-up partners. But that’s what we are, and somehow, we’ve managed to remain cordial coworkers as well. In our off hours, we get naked for a roll in the sheets, and it’s had no effect on our friendship. The sex is just that—sex.
Foster has made it clear to me that he has no interest in dating anyone, which is fine by me. In my mind, I’m calling our sexual trysts nothing more than a good dose of banging therapy.What girl wouldn’t want to fuck out all her frustrations with a guy who looks great with no clothes on?
Added bonus—Foster is really great in bed, possibly the best sex I’ve ever had. And there’s no need to impress him with any crazy erotic moves, like if I were his girlfriend. Of course, it pleases me that he seems to enjoy it as much as I do, but I’m in it for me, and he’s in it for him. No pressure.
But it’s hot. Fucking hell is the sex ever hot.
No wonder I keep going back for more.
The way he bent me over the other day, pulled my hair, and made me come twice, almost back-to-back, really got my attention. The spanking turned me on more than I’d expected. Then, there was another time on his couch. Okay, so it was multiple times spanning into the wee hours of the morning. He should probably just burn the thing from all the sins we committed on the cushions. The kitchen is a whole other story. I’ll never look at the countertop the same way ever again. Eating out doesn’t always have to take place outside of one’s residence.
Damn, his tongue is something special.
It will be missed while I’m away.
Now that the quarter has ended, I likely won’t see him again until returning to work at the beginning of the next school term. The items in my arms aren’t pressing, but I got them back from the framer just yesterday and thought they would make a nice gesture as a Christmas present. Part of me was hesitant at first about giving him anything at all, wondering if it might be crossing some line in our friendship and arrangement, but I decided to push that aside. I gave one to Chandra and Wolfgang yesterday, and they’re friends, so I perceive no problem with giving something to him as well—as friends.
Turning the corner at the bottom of the hill, I spot Foster’s building near the middle of the block. I had considered calling, but I figured a drop-by would be more casual. When I spoke with him the other night at work, he mentioned he wasn’t going out of town for the holidays, and his only plans were to spend Christmas at his grandmother’s farm. If he’s not home, I’ll just leave the gift outside his apartment.
Knocking lightly on his door, I promise myself to only count to thirty before deciding he’s not home and leaving. When I mentally reach the number nineteen, the wooden entrance opens to reveal my comrade between the sheets and coworker of superior intelligence in a pair of dark denim jeans and a white T-shirt underneath an unzipped hoodie. He’s wearing his glasses, shielding his tired red eyes. I’m sure exams have been rough on him. I look like hell myself.
“EJ.” He squints. “Hey, I thought you were leaving today.”
“I am.” I tighten my grip around the frames under my arm. “Can I come in for a minute?”
“Sure.” He steps back, allowing me to enter the apartment. “You got a new hair color. Are you going for au naturel this time?”
“Yeah. I need to look good for holiday pictures with the family. Thought it might be best to avoid any freak-show comments from the ’rents.”
Shutting the door, he asks, “So, did you come by to get one for the road? It’s a little early for a booty call, but I can accommodate, if need be.”
