“Am I out of your system now?” I ask. Dare huffs out a laugh.
“I’m not even out of your body.” He pulls away, and I feel a gush of wetness that reminds me that he came inside me. Dare must notice it, too, because he’s staring right between my legs, his expression intense.
“I’m on the pill,” I say defensively, even though he has no right to be upset with me. He was the one who made the final move.
Dare groans, one hand on his length as he guides it back to me, spreading our cum around before slipping back inside me.
“That means I can do this?” he asks, and my eyes roll back.
“God, yes.”
Dare makes me come twice more in as many positions before he gets off again. We’re both spent and panting by the end of it, and he excuses himself to the bathroom. I mumble some half-intelligible directions on where the bathroom is—not that it would be hard to find, being one out of the three rooms in the place. When he comes back, he looks unsure, probably for the first time since I’ve known him.
“I, uh…” he says before clearing his throat, scratching at the back of his neck in an uncomfortable gesture. “I should go.”
“Oh.” I don’t know what I expected. It’s not like I expected him to sleep over, but I didn’t think he’d run out the door before my cum-stained sheets dry. I don’t know why I thought this would be different than any other one-night stand, but I can’t help feeling rejected by him, for the second time tonight.
“I mean…unless you don’t want me to?”
This is the part I hate. Is he saying that because he doesn’t want to go, or because he thinks I want him to stay and he’s just trying to be nice? People spend so much time guessing what others are thinking instead of just fucking asking. Myself included.
“This was a mistake.” He looks conflicted, his blue eyes swimming with regret. He opens his mouth, then closes it, like he wants to say something but thinks better of it.
“Okay,” I say, because what else do you say to that? So much for having to guess how he feels.
“Lo!” Jesse’s voice breaks through my consciousness, and I stretch my arms above my head tiredly. Soreness between my thighs reminds me of last night’s activities.
I usually don’t sleep so soundly—another direct effect of growing up in a shitty neighborhood with a shitty mom. I never knew when some drunk asshole friend of hers was going to barge in, thinking it was the bathroom. Even worse was when they knew damn well it wasn’t the bathroom and wanted company. Of course, we worried about break-ins, too, but I was more afraid of the people we knew than of strangers. Strangers hadn’t ever let me down the way Crystal and the people she ran around with did.
Jess throws my door open, looking half-asleep himself. He’s wearing a baggy light gray sweatshirt that looks like it hasn’t been washed in a hot minute, the hood pulled over his shaggy, still-wet hair. A black duffle bag is thrown over his shoulder.
“Can I take the car today?”
“I’ll take you,” I say, yawning as I pull the blankets higher. “Just give me a second to get dressed.”
“You have to work today. I have to start that wrestling shit after school.”
“Can’t your coach take you?” It’s not like they aren’t going to the same place.
“Yeah, let me just ask my teacher for a ride. That won’t be weird at all. Come on, Lo. You’re the one who got me into this shit.”
“Excuse me?” My eyebrows must hit my hairline. “Correction: I got you out of this shit,” I say, using air quotes. “You got yourself into trouble.”
“Whatever. Can I have the car or not?”
“Fine,” I say, running a hand through my messy hair. There’s still a hair tie in there somewhere, but I know when I look in the mirror, it’s going to look like an actual bird’s nest. “I’ll find a ride into work. You still have the keys,” I remind him. I never got them back after Henry fixed it last night.
“Thanks. I’m going to have sweaty balls in my face and then have to follow it up with cleaning the whole damn place, so I’ll be home late.”
“Living the dream, man.”
“I hate you,” Jess says, but his lips are quirked up in a grin.
When Jess leaves, I grab my phone to text Sutton and see that I have two voicemails from a private number. I delete them without listening. Eric’s determination shouldn’t surprise me. It’s not about me. I could be anyone. To him, it’s about winning and having the upper hand. Eric probably feels pretty rejected, and there is nothing more dangerous than a man with a bruised ego.
I tap out a text to Sutton, asking if she’ll take me to work before her shift. We both go in at noon, but thanks to the new girl, whom I have yet to meet, I’m only working five hours. I’m scheduled to work a shift at Bad Intentions right after. Where I’ll see Dare.
I didn’t see last night coming. The last thing I wanted was to get myself in another situation like with Eric, but when Dare touched me…he consumed me and excited me and calmed me all at the same time. Dare isn’t looking for anything in return. He doesn’t want a relationship, and he swore anything that happened between us wouldn’t affect my job…what could possibly go wrong? Him regretting it. That’s what.
Sutton texts back, letting me know she’ll pick me up in a couple of hours, so I throw a load of laundry into the washer and take a shower. I take as long as I can, giving extra attention to my makeup, even blow-drying and flat ironing my hair to pass the time, but I still have over an hour to spare. I decide to clean the house, but even that doesn’t take long. I’m literally twiddling my thumbs, looking around the small cabin for something to keep me occupied. What do people who have free time do? Watch TV? Twenty minutes before Sutton is supposed to show, Henry arrives, surprising me.
“Hey, kid,” he says, sporting black Dickies coveralls and a backwards Raiders hat. He makes his way to the sink before dumping the contents of his thermos inside.
“Lunch break?” I ask.
“Yep. Just thought I’d swing by to get a couple boxes from the garage. I’m slowly moving my shit over to the shop.”
I nod, having figured that’s where he’d be staying. “Need me to do anything?”
“Nah. I’m pretty much packed besides the living room and kitchen, and I can’t fit all this shit anyway. If you and Jess want those couches for your place, have at it.”
“Thanks,” I say, leaving out the fact that we haven’t had any luck finding a place yet.
We’re silent for a beat, neither one of us knowing what to say. We’ve seen each other in passing and we had dinner the other night, but for the most part, we’re still strangers.
“Have you, uh, heard from your mother?” he asks, leaning his grease-stained hands against the counter behind him.
“She wrote to Jess. I guess she’s been calling him.” She hasn’t tried to call me once. My guess is she’s trying to pit Jesse against me. It’s what she does when someone’s on her shit list.
“She knows you’re here?” he asks, letting out a low whistle. “Guess it’s a good thing we’ll be out of here soon then.”