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“Fine. And do we have to do that again?” I ask because I need to get my asshole in shape if he plans to stick anything inside it.
He shrugs. “Depends on what I feel like doing. Could be that, could be a blow job, could be me bending you over a desk.”
My cheeks flush crimson at the image that pops into my head, and I avert my eyes. They land on Curie again.
That cat is everywhere, always judging.
I stick my tongue out at her and then mentally scold myself for letting a cat get to me.
“Fine. Whatever. See you tomorrow,” I say.
Theo doesn’t respond. He just turns around and sits on his desk chair, his back to me, and I watch him for a few seconds before swiping up my stuff, turning on my heels, and leaving the apartment entirely.
When the door shuts behind me, I lean against the wall and breathe deeply.
That was fucking weird. The whole thing. Jacking off another guy, how cold he was afterward.
The cat.
Jesus. I rub a hand down my face. I really, really, for real, need to prepare myself for tomorrow morning. I don’t want to go in blind.
two
LOGAN
I stumbleup the steps to Theo’s apartment and pound on the door. My eyes are still bleary from lack of sleep because I’ve been replaying that hand job repeatedly in my head. I was obsessing over it. It kept me up until two in the morning.
And then I may have watched some gay porn too.
I didn’t hate it. I watched quite a lot of it and got all sorts of ideas. At three a.m., I trudged into the kitchen to look for a cucumber I know we had—a cucumber that looked to be about the same size as Theo’s dick—but Finn had eaten it. Who eats a whole fucking cucumber in one day? Finn, that’s who. But it’s probably a good thing he did; I was going to do awful things to it. The grocery man would see the guilt on my face and know when I went to buy veggies next time. They’d ban me from the produce department, fearful of what I might do to a head of lettuce.
And honestly, what if my sphincter had sucked that thing right inside, and it disappeared entirely? I’d have to go to the ER, and Finn would never let me live it down. I’d end up on one of those reality TV shows where doctors laugh at you and call you an idiot.
I opted, instead, to order a dildo with a nice thick base to keep myself out of the hospital. It comes next week. I plan on using it often.
“You’re late,” Theo says as soon as he opens the door and sees me leaning, hands against the frame.
He’s wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs, and the haze of fatigue slowly dissipates. Does this guy just get more and more naked each time I see him? Next time he answers the door, he’ll just be wearing one sock.
Maybe he’s just fucking with me or something. I don’t think he likes me, so I wouldn’t put it past him. He cackles about this when I leave and talks about it with his friends, I just know it.
“You look like shit,” he says, and I mutter curses at him.
“I’m tired. I was up late.”Looking at dudes fucking each other and ordering sex toys.
His eyes rove over me as he sips from a mug.
“Oh, fuck yeah. Coffee,” I grumble incoherently. “Gimme.”
“Did I say you could help yourself to my shit?” he asks, and I open my mouth to protest, but it’s too early in the day to argue with someone this smart. I’ll never win.
Like my mom always says, “It’s better to ask forgiveness than permission.” So that’s precisely what I do. I brush past him and catch the scent of soap wafting off of him. He smells clean and fresh, and I notice his hair is a bit damp.
Shit. I didn’t take a shower this morning. I was planning to do it after practice later.
I hope that doesn’t bother him.
In the kitchen, I pull open the two cupboards and fish out another mug. It has some sort of molecule on it. Or maybe it’s an atom. I don’t really know the difference, to be honest. It has a quote on it that must be funny or some shit but I don’t get it. I just fill the mug to the brim until it sloshes out slightly and then lean down to slurp some out.
