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And as great as last night was, I’d rather have that friendship back thanthis.
He must feel it too, because he quickly turns around to face me as he says, “Is it just me or are things super awkward now?”
I quickly shake my head. “Totally not just you, Drake. It’s super awkward now.”
“I hate it. Can we please just talk about it, so we can go back to the way things were?”
“Please,” I agree.
“Okay…” he says, letting his voice drawl into silence.
I guess this is the part where we actually talk about the third base we rounded last night, but it’s apparently not so easy.
“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” he asks. His bright blue eyes are focused on my face with warmth and concern, and I just love him for this. How can such a sweet and sensitive man not be committed to anyone?
“I’m okay with this as long as it doesn’t make things weird between us.”
“Me too.”
“So last night was okay?” I ask delicately, as if I need him to confirm that eating me out was everything he could have wished for. It feels ridiculous to even ask.
“Last night was amazing,” he replies, and I feel a tingle of butterflies in my stomach.
“It was…”
“God, this is so weird,” he adds, and I laugh.
“Probably not as weird as cuddling was,” I reply, trying to break the thick, thick tension.
“Oh, come on,” he jokes, shoving my shoulder. “You’re an excellent cuddler.”
“So are you! We should have been cuddling this whole time.”
He laughs. “I’m not usually much of a cuddler.”
“Well, it turns out those beefy biceps of yours make great pillows.”
With a smile, he flexes, and I roll my eyes at him. “These pillows?”
“Stop it, you show off,” I tease him, and just like that…we’re us again. Well, mostly. The awkwardness is still there, but at least we can make jokes and work around the parts that make us uncomfortable, like the fact that he was literally prodding his tongue in my pussy last night. God, why did I just remind myself?
Thankfully, he moves over to the weights against the wall, and I’m able to hide my blush behind the redness of my cheeks from working out.
“You know…” he says as he picks up a barbell, “we should probably have some rules. Maybe that would help us separate everything, so it doesn’t get too weird.”
“That’s a great idea,” I reply. “What do you have in mind?”
“Well…” He thinks for a moment, curling the weights like they’re nothing. “First, you and I can’t do anything without Hunter around.”
“Obviously,” I reply.
“And everything has to be consensual. If you want it to stop, just say…namaste.”
I laugh. “Is that supposed to be my safe word?”
“Yeah, why not?”
“That’s literally the worst safe word I’ve ever heard.”
