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Aspen - That’s right. I’ll be graduating with a journalism degree in a few months.
Colton - Sounds cool. I’m halfway through my business degree. Been a tough week though. Could really use a pick-me-up. What do you say we meet up and let off a little steam?
Aspen - What do you have in mind?
Colton - Your call. We can meet somewhere, grab something to eat or just head back to you’re place. Whatever your down with.
Truth be told, I’m not really down with much when it comes to this guy, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s cute and I’m curious to find out if I’m actually capable of being physical with someone who isn’t a faceless man in a dark room. Call it an experiment.
A grin tears across my face as I imagine what Becs would say to all of this. She’d throw me a wild party and would probably offer to vajazzle my vagina for good luck.
Aspen - Count me in. Tomorrow night work for you? Kinda been craving a good kebab. Haven’t had one in ages.
Colton - Tomorrow is perfect. I know a place about ten minutes from here. I can swing by and pick you up.
Aspen - Perfect!
I give Colton my details, and before I know it, I have a glass of wine and I’m curled up on my couch, ready for a night filled with Grey’s Anatomy. Then wanting to jump straight into the drama, I skip ahead to the double episode at the end of season six and watch as McDreamy goes down.
I’m halfway through when my phone chimes with another text. I dive for it, feeling around in the cushions, not capable of taking my eyes off the screen, only when I hold up my phone and see Izaac’s name, suddenly watching Meredith demand to be shot doesn’t seem so important.
Every bit of my attention falls to my phone, and I shift back on the couch, snuggling up on the cushion, almost too scared to open the text. I don’t know what he could possibly want. He makes a habit out of never texting me . . . apart from the other night. I think that was the first message I’ve received from him in over a year. Either way, Saturday night’s texts were a far cry from anything I’ve gotten from him before. Usually, they sound likeAustin needsorAustin was wondering.His messages are neverlet’s secretly get off together through the paper-thin walls.
A shiver sails down my spine from the memory. Easily the best night of my life . . . right after my wild night at Vixen, of course. Though, I can guarantee I won’t be that lucky again.
Preparing for a random rejection message just to remind me of my place, I cringe as I open the text, but as I read the words, I simply just stare. I’m not really sure what I expected, but it definitely wasn’t this.
Izaac - What are you doing?
My brows furrow. Since when does Izaac Banks ask me what I’m doing?
Aspen - Not much, just organizing my bi-weekly orgy. You?
Izaac - Dusting off my old collection of strap ons and ball gags. Figured you’d get more use out of them now that you’re a raging sex addict and all.
A snort tears from the back of my throat, and I scooch down further on the couch and pull my blanket up as I type out a response, giggling at my phone like a love-sick schoolgirl.
Aspen - I haven’t got a clue what you’re talking about!
Izaac - Uh-huh…
Aspen - Is there something you needed?
Izaac - Just checking in is all.
Aspen - Bullshit. I’ve known you all my life and you’ve never just checked in.
Izaac - Maybe…and this is a big maybe, but maybe I was just replaying the other night in my head and thought I should see how you were doing.
Aspen - …
Aspen - I thought we agreed that nothing happened.
Izaac - We did. Nothing happened.
Aspen - So then there shouldn’t be anything for you to replay in that ridiculous head of yours.
Izaac - Like you haven’t thought about it.
