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“Wait.” He follows me. “I’ll walk you out.”
That’s odd. I didn’t need his help getting here. What suddenly made him a good host? But the second it hits me, I realize we’re both standing outside his bedroom. Inches from his mattress. Where the magic happened.
As if on cue, the wall starts to pound, and Mad begins to moan as they start round four of the day. The weight of Alec’s stare rests on me, but I do everything not to return it.
“We’ve got to do something about this,” he says. “It’s a little much. Why don’t they go to his place?”
“Pretty sure he lives in his mother’s basement,” I say, cringing.
Without warning, Alec jumps over the mattress and starts banging on the shared wall between the apartments.
“Aw, yeah, you like it harder, Stassi? You want all of this?” he shouts in an overblown, overdramatic way, impressively in tempo with the banging coming from Mad’s room.
Heat climbs to my cheeks. “What the hell are you doing?”
He sets his beer bottle aside and starts banging even harder, with both hands this time.
“What does it look like?” He answers, then he turns to the wall. “You want this big, fat cock, Stassi?”
“Oh my God. I can’t with you. I’m leaving.” I head for the door. Sometimes it’s hard to believe he’s a big, mature doctor who saves lives for a living and not a perpetual frat boy.
Alec doesn’t stop. And the funny thing is, neither do Mad and Joe. They’re completely oblivious, which means they’ll keep going at it, even when I’m back in my apartment, and it’ll be even worse, because I’ll be alone.
I groan and slump against the wall. “Guess I won’t be getting any sleep tonight. Again.”
He stops banging on the wall and turns to me.
“Also, for the record, you do not have a big, fat cock,” I tell him. “And I would never beg for it.”
He looks down at himself. “No? You sure about that?”
I nod, straightening my shoulders. “I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.”
“In that case.” He motions to the television set. “You’re welcome to watch a movie here. I’ll turn it up loud so we’ll drown them out.”
Skeptical, I check out the arrangement. I’ll have to sit on his mattress, which can be all sorts of dangerous. But at least I won’t be alone. My lips twist. “You’ll keep your not-so-big, fat cock to yourself?”
Alec smirks. “It’s big and fat and you know it. But if you insist.”
I look at the television. “What movie?”
“Whatever you want. I’ll let you choose. We can even watch a Denzel movie if you want.”
Weighing my options, I decide staying here and watching a movie is the lesser of two evils, so I sink down onto the very edge of the mattress, sitting primly, like it’ll swallow me up if I get comfortable. “Fine. But only if we’re watching The Princess Bride.”
“A classic.” He sits down next to me. I used to watch this movie religiously as a kid and he’d always give me crap for it, but to this day, it’s my go-to comfort watch. And I could use a bit of comfort these days.
I find it on Netflix, and I turn up the volume almost to the max which mostly drowns out the sounds next door. We haven’t even gotten to the Farm Boy part when he says something.
“What?” I ask.
He takes the remote, lowers the volume, and motions to the wall. “They’ve stopped.”
“Oh.” I start to get up.
“Wait. Where you going?” He’s lying on his side on the mattress, pillow under his head. I can’t deny he looks good in his t-shirt and jeans, barefooted and casual. “Let’s finish it.”
I’ve never been able to tear myself away from this movie. I take off my shoes and slowly inch back on the mattress so my back is against the wall for support, and I keep my arms and hands close to my body, as if I’m about to board a dangerous rollercoaster.
“You don’t have to look like it’s a death sentence, you know,” he says as he observes me.
“What do you mean?” I glue my eyes to the television. “I’m fine.”
But every part of me is prickling with heat, thinking about what we did on this bed. Why couldn’t it have been anyone else but him? If it’d have been some random hot guy I met on the app, I’d have no problem casually hooking up. But casual isn’t a word that will ever belong in the same sentence as Alec Mansfield.
“Are you though?” He reverses direction, getting onto his knees to look into my eyes. “You look uncomfortable.”
“I said I’m fine,” I over enunciate my response. But as I attempt to focus on the movie, I can’t help but notice him watching me instead of the screen. “Hello? Eyes that way.”
