AllFreeNovel
Share Us
NATE HAWKINS: You’ll have to be something boring like Stassie or Anastasia
NATE HAWKINS: No more Uber Slut
NATE HAWKINS: I hope you were sober enough to remember that conversation.
The last thing I fucking need is her thinking I’m calling her a slut.
After staring at my bedroom ceiling for an hour and receiving zero calls and texts, I finally drag myself out of bed.
JJ, Robbie, and Sabrina are eating in the kitchen when I finally make it downstairs, they look like hungover pieces of shit, but they’re all laughing. Well, until I appear and then Sabrina’s eyes narrow. “Bed cold, Hawkins?”
Dragging my hand down my face, I awkwardly shuffle toward them. I lean my elbows across the kitchen island and prepare myself for the torture. “I know, Brin, I know. How do you know so quickly? You haven’t even been home yet.”
“Because we saw her trying to sneak out of here in your T-shirt an hour after you two snuck upstairs.”
For once, JJ and Robbie aren’t saying a word; they’re staring into the cereal bowls like it’s the most exciting thing they’ve ever seen. “I’ve been calling her, but she’s not answering. What’s your apartment number? I’ll drive over there.”
“Have you taken too many hits to the head, hockey boy? She’s upstairs.” She picks up her mug of coffee and brings it to her lips, still glowering at me over the rim. “I wasn’t going to let her get into an Uber drunk and sad wearing just a T-shirt. She slept in Henry’s room.”
“And where did Henry sleep?” I ask as calmly as I can manage.
“I dunno, probably snuggled up next to her.” Her smile is huge, borderline sinister. “They haven’t come down yet. You know what they say about men in the morning being glorious. He’s so sweet and kind, it’s always the quiet ones, y’know? Henry will treat her real good.”
I can still hear her cackling laugh when I’m halfway up the stairs, definitely too hungover to be running anywhere. “You’re not funny, Brin!”
Henry’s room is next to mine, so the fact I haven’t heard a peep is a good sign. I knock on the door and wait for someone to tell me to come in. Now I’m standing outside the door, I can hear her laughing, I knock again, but nobody answers.
Fuck it.
Four zeros because Henry is too scared of being locked out of his room and not being able to get any of his things.
She’s under the covers, bare face, wet hair, with a coffee mug between her hands. She’s chuckling away at something Henry was saying, but when she spots me, her face drops a little before forcing a smile.
Much to my delight, Henry is sitting on a half-inflated air mattress on the floor. He looks between the two of us and stands. “I’m going to get some breakfast.”
He shuffles past me awkwardly, and when I can hear him on the stairs, I step into the room and sit at the bottom of the bed. She sits up and rests against the headboard. She’s still wearing my T-shirt, and fuck me, she’s beautiful. “Stassie, I’m sorry.”
She gives the same forced smile. “You don’t need to apologize to me, Nathan. You’re allowed to withdraw consent at any time. I’d never, ever be mad at your for changing your mind.” She takes a deep breath, leaning to put her mug on the bedside table. “I jus—”
“Stas, stop,” I interrupt, inching closer to her. “I’m so glad you know that, and you’re right, but it’s not the case here. I wasn’t withdrawing anything, I was just jealous.” God, I feel shit admitting this. “I thought if we had sex, you’d wake up this morning and disappear. I hate you being mad at me, and every time I seem to break into the icy fucking fortress you put up, something happens, and I’m back to square one.”
She listens to everything I say: no arguing, no eye rolls, no sass. “I struggle with rejection,” she says softly. “I’ve never been any good at it, even as a little kid. I felt rejected and overwhelmed last night, I only wanted to hook up, and you started talking about not sharing me.”
She shuffles on the bed, fiddling with the ends of her hair, and I can tell this is uncomfortable for her. “I feel like you want a relationship or something more than I’m offering. I’m really attracted to you, Nate, but we hardly know each other. I’m sorry for leaving. I just didn’t like it, and it made me want to get away from the situation.”
She’s right. I like her and I haven’t even considered what she wants. “I like that you know how to share your feelings.”
She snorts and brings her knees to her chest, pulling my T-shirt over them to hug herself tightly. “I’ve had so much fucking therapy. It’s taken years for me to say, ‘I struggle with rejection.’ Dr. Andrews will be so happy I managed to apply it to real-life situations.”
“You can be his star patient. Listen, I’m sorry you felt rejected. That wasn’t my intention.”
“This is so fucking awkward. I wanted to ride your dick, Nathan, not cause drama. I need to be honest, I’m not into the whole exclusive thing. I don’t like the commitment. I don’t have the time. My schedule is full as it is.”
She couldn’t be more direct and clear. I don’t like any of it, other than the bit where she said she wanted to ride my dick because I’d like that, but I can’t fault her for not communicating. “I hear you, Allen, loud and clear. Commitmentphobe, gotcha. For the record, now we’re on the same page, you can ride my dick anytime you want.”
“Oh, Nate,” she coos in the cutest and most patronizing way possible, shooting me a smile that goes ear to ear. “I’m not drunk anymore. You’re back on my shit list, buddy. I’ll consider taking you off it when you give me my rink back.”
“I thought it was probation? When did it become a shit list? Am I at least at the top of the list? Am I number one?”
