“Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“You want the truth?”
“Yes,” I answer.
“Well, I’m feeling like I have a touch of whiplash with you. One second, you’re incredibly sweet and helping me through this odd arrangement we have, then the next, you ignore me completely, and now you’re back to the first guy.”
“The real man is the one you’re seeing now and the one you saw before the event. The in-between is a part of me that I hate.”
“Well, maybe you can lean on me a bit more next time.”
“Yeah.” I grip her hand that’s against my chest. “I think I will.”
“Good.” She covers her mouth while she yawns. “Now, let me get some sleep.”
“Okay. Night . . . Oliana.”
“Urghhh,” she grumbles. “I knew you would use it.”
* * *
I checkmy phone and see that breakfast has been delivered, so I sneak out of bed and pad across the floor. Thankfully, I had them deliver it right to her door. So I crack the door open and pick up the bag of pastries and sandwiches, as well as the four coffees I’ve purchased because I was unsure of her preference.
I quietly shut the door and bring breakfast back to the main room, where I see her sit up in bed and rub her eye.
“Is that coffee I smell?” she asks.
I pause, right there in the middle of the floor, and stare at her. The light from her window shines in, illuminating her from behind. Pieces of her hair have tumbled out of her bun, framing her face, and her shirt that barely covers her breasts sits extremely tight against her hard nipples. I truly think every crop top she owns is my new favorite shirt because fuck it’s hot.
Her eye pops open, and she says, “Uh . . . you okay?” That’s when her eyes land on my bare chest, and I watch with satisfaction as they scan me. From the way my jeans ride very low on my hips, up my stacked stomach, and then to my large pecs, at this moment, even though I’m sore, I’ve never been happier about my workout routine.
“I’m fine, you?” I ask her.
“Good,” she replies quickly. “Is that, uh . . . is that breakfast?”
“It is.” I walk up to the bed, set the bag on her nightstand, and then check out the coffees. “I have a vanilla latte, caramel latte, black coffee, and a chai. I didn’t know what you would want.”
“Caramel please,” she says as she reaches out her hand. I find the latte and hand it to her while I pick up the black coffee for myself, grateful she didn’t choose that one since I really need it. “What’s in the bag?”
I pull out the contents and lay them on the nightstand. “Egg and sausage sandwiches, pastries, and a muffin. Once again, didn’t know what you wanted.”
“Egg sandwich all day, every day,” she says while snagging one. I do the same and then sit next to her. Together we unwrap the sandwiches and take a bite. “I could get used to this,” she says.
“Get used to what?”
“Hand-delivered breakfast in bed by a shirtless guy. Sign me up.”
“What do you like more? The shirtless guy or the breakfast?”
“Clearly the breakfast.” She smirks.
I playfully bump her shoulder with mine.
“You spill the coffee, you clean the sheets. Possibly purchase a new mattress.”
“Not a fan of the smell of coffee?” I ask.
“Not in my bed.”
I take another bite of my sandwich, then lean my head against her wall. “My dorm was nothing like this when I was in college.”
“Oh yeah, Granddad?” she says, causing me to smile. “Tell me, how was it back in the day?”
“You’re such a punk, you know that?”
“Makes this friendship more fun, don’t you think?”
“Makes me feel like a goddamn geriatric.”
She laughs out loud and turns toward me, legs crossed, sandwich in one hand, coffee in the other. “I’m sorry, please, regale me with your tales from ye old college years.”
“A punk,” I repeat, but she just bites into her sandwich. I take a sip of my coffee then say, “I had to share this space you have with another guy in college. And we didn’t have a bathroom. It was a communal bathroom.”
“Ooo, how many dicks did you see daily?”
“Really? That’s what you’re going to ask?”
“Naturally, would you expect anything else from me?” she asks.
I take a bite of my sandwich and then say, “Not really.”
“Okay then, so tell me about the penises.”
“Yeah, there were a lot of penises, but I was used to it because of playing hockey growing up. We were always showering naked in front of other guys.”
“Oh, that’s right. Well, what’s the biggest penis you’ve ever seen?”
“That’s easy,” I say with a wink. “That would be mine.”
She rolls her eyes dramatically. “I’m being serious.”
“So am I,” I say.
“Sure, okay, Silas, you have a huge dong. Now who is the second?”
“Why don’t you believe me?”
“Because every guy thinks they have the biggest penis.”
“That’s not true. I don’t think I have the biggest penis. I just think it’s the biggest I’ve seen in person. Online, well that’s a different story. Those men are horses.”
She snorts and covers her nose with the back of her wrist. “Oh my God, I was not expecting you to say that.”
“It’s true.”
“I know we’ve talked about this before, but how much porn do you watch?”
“Probably not as much as the average guy. I don’t like the fakeness of it. I prefer to just jack off to images in my head.”
“Images of who?” She pauses and then asks, “Sarah?”
“No,” I answer honestly. “I can’t. She fucked me over, and there is no way I’m going back to that, even if she’s gorgeous.”
Ollie nods. “So then, like who?”
“I don’t know, like women I see or celebrities I think are hot. Sometimes I’ll just find an image that turns me on.”
“Ever think about me?” she asks in a joking tone.
“Keep wearing those goddamn shirts, and I will.”
She glances down at her shirt, then back up at me. “This is one of my longer ones.”
“Well fuck, I’d hate to see what the shorter one looks like.”
“Hate? Really?” she asks.
“Nah, I’d fucking love it. You have hot tits.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
Leave a Reply