David opened his mouth, his eyes drawn together. It reminded her of the look people got in horror movies, when the heroes found the monster’s underground lair full of dead bodies but they couldn’t scream or else the monster would know they were there. He seemed terrified. “Uh … nice house.”
Shayler grinned and fell on her bed. “Thanks. The movies are around if you want to look for one.”
She tossed a pair of jeans off her pillow as David stepped over the piles of clothes to get to her bookshelf. Most of her movies were scattered there in no particular order, tiny knickknacks and bobby pins hidden between them.
“Gotta say. I’m a little overwhelmed here.”
“I couldn’t tell,” she teased.
David rubbed his neck and bent over to check out the shelf. “No offense, I just don’t know how you live like this. How do you find the movies you want to watch? Or clothes you want to wear? Doesn’t being here make you … uncomfortable?”
“No.” She sat up. “This is normal to me. Cozy.”
“You’re like my mom.”
“Creepy comparison, thanks.”
He turned. “I don’t mean … not in that way. Gross. I meant that her house is always a mess. When I was little, I’d spend all day on the weekends tidying it.”
“Why?”
“Because living in a pig sty makes me nervous and antsy and angry.”
“You sound like Rebecca. She’s always scrubbing or spraying something like she’s freaking Mrs. Clean.”
He shook his head. “It’s not like a clean thing for me. More about organization. I like my things in the right order.”
“That’s because you don’t have anxiety like Rebecca,” she said. “Rebecca’s always prepping for the worse, expecting the worse, so she tries her hardest to keep everything just right to avoid it. You want things organized because…” Shayler tilted her head. “Because it’s your natural reaction to take care of things. You took care of your mother, cleaning was a way you did that. You take care of your house. I just don’t know why.”
“Why I like taking care of things?”
“Did your mom have a lot of boyfriends? Did they take over the house?”
“No. Mom was good about not bringing men home unless she was serious, and only after I was out of elementary school.”
“Then maybe it’s just something you were born with.”
“Thanks for the evaluation, Dr. Thompson. How much do I owe you?”
Shayler smiled. “Sorry. Habit.”
“Diagnosing people is a habit for you?”
“Reading people is, and blurting out my thoughts. No filter and all that.”
“I’ve been around you for a while now. I know.”
Shayler licked her bottom lip as his attention fell back on her bookshelf. She’d tried to read Rebecca before, years ago, and Rebecca had hated it so much that she’d covered her ears and screamed the lyrics to “Bye, Bye, Bye.” It was nice that David hadn’t minded, that he was used to it. Used to her.
“You own all the new X-Men movies?” he asked, his voice perking up.
“They’re the best ones.”
“Agreed… Whoa, you have Shaun of the Dead? It’s one my favorites.”
“Simon Pegg is total nerd bae.”
As he continued reading out titles, worry gnawed at her brain. She was so nervous, and so dumb for being so nervous. It was David. Just David. It didn’t matter if he came across a movie he hated. She doubted that he’d stop talking to her because she owned two copies of Seventeen Again.
David turned and held something up, but she stared at her feet, still trying to convince herself everything was okay.
“We have to watch…” He paused. “Are you all right?”
“You ask me that way too much, remember?”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’ve never brought anyone here before,” she confessed. “Aside from friends, I mean. No guys.”
“Why?” He sat down next to her.
“Because if a guy comes over, it’s likely they’ll want to take a shower and stay overnight and have breakfast like they’re the fucking mouse in that kids book about rodents eating cookies.”
He pushed back a piece of her hair and lifted her chin so that she was looking at him. “But you want me here.”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“Good? That’s it? You’re not gonna keep asking me why?”
“Not unless you want me to.”
“No, but—”
“I don’t care why you want me here,” he said, his tone firm. “I only care that you want me.”
His words simmered in her veins until she couldn’t take it anymore. Sitting up taller, she hooked her arms around his neck and brought herself closer to him. His breath was hot on her face, and his hands were even hotter on her waist. She grazed her lips on his, the tension so delicate that she feared it could be shattered.
Goosebumps ran up and down her bare arms and legs, and she shook softly. He closed the small gap and moved his mouth gently with hers. The kiss burned slowly through her, starting in the pit of her stomach and growing outward until she was sure she’d turn into a pile of ashes.
He cradled her head with one hand, but the other stayed on her waist. It was so sweet, reminiscent of a first kiss. Not the kind she’d had, when she’d gone to a pool party in sixth grade and someone had dared Jeremy Adams to kiss her, but like in the movies, when two kids knew they were meant for one another and shared a kiss in their early years. It was unsure, unsteady, but life altering.
Shayler moved forward, knocking David onto her pillows as she took the opportunity to straddle him. It was a natural position, one she was used to. But different. She wasn’t thinking about how her stomach looked, if she was working hard enough, or wondering if she tasted like the pizza she’d had for lunch.
All that mattered were his arms wrapped around her, his body underneath her, and his gaze that pierced into hers when she rested her forehead on his in order to take a breath. It was more consuming than anything she’d done before. And she had this awful feeling that all those years she’d spent thinking she was living were really spent waiting for this one moment, when she was finally alive.
David’s hands slipped under her shirt and stroked her spine. Shayler arched into him, holding on tighter. As he ran his fingers over her hips and back, Shayler let out a shuddering breath, unable to close her eyes.
He was beautiful. He was … everything. Her chest tightened, and she searched his face. Words had lodged themselves in her throat, and no matter how hard she thought, she couldn’t figure out what they were, couldn’t spit them out. They stayed on her tongue.
“Shayler,” he whispered.
She struggled to keep herself pushed up, her elbows shaking the longer she stayed there. But she wanted to keep looking at him, to keep hearing him.
“Shayler,” he repeated a little louder. “I love you.”
The world tipped. Shayler inhaled sharply. Her thoughts floated away, and the door to her mind slammed shut. I love you. I love you. I love you. She opened her mouth and braced herself for the moment when she’d need to run.
“You don’t need to say it back,” he explained, taking his hands out of her shirt so she could climb off of him. “I just wanted you to know.”
Her insides quivered, and not in the romance novel sort of way. “I don’t understand, David. We … we … We’re friends.”
“We’re not friends. At least, it’s not like that to me.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“We’re around each other all the time.”
“Stop saying we’re like we’re a-a thing.”
“We see each other three times a week and twice on Fridays, but we’re not a thing?”
“You offered to help me with a class.”
She stared at him, horrified. Her brain was done working properly. It was just shooting out random thoughts that circled around in her mind like they
were in a flushing toilet. What had she gotten herself into? Why did he love her? Why?
“I don’t think you love me. It’s a chemical reaction to the kissing. I-it’s lust.”
“It’s okay you’re apprehensive or not feeling the same way, but don’t tell me what I feel. What I know.”
“But why?” she blurted, holding a pillow to her stomach like she could disappear behind it.
“You’re asking why I love you?” He reached for her hand, and she let him take it, blaming those goddamn chemical reactions. “Shayler, I’ve never met anyone as brave or funny or impulsive as you. I … I don’t know. I can’t give you a list, I’ve never looked at you, at us, like an equation. But when I’m with you, I want it to last forever. Even when I’m just sitting next to you while you read from a textbook, I’d rather do that with you than anything else alone.”
And that was exactly how she felt, that nothing about them made sense, but it was everything she wanted. Being around him didn’t only make her happy, it made her feel like she belonged. As though discussing the justice system or convincing him to watch an episode of Crazy Ex-Girlfriend was what she was meant to be doing. Like she was supposed to be with him. Like he made her whole.
“You love me…”
David grinned. “I’m sorry to spring it on you.”
She shoved him with her hand. “Just put the movie in. I need time to process.”
“Fine.”
“Wait, what are we watching?”
He glanced behind him as he stood. “The King’s Speech.”
“Are you kidding me? I’m not watching that, and it’s not mine. Becca must’ve snuck it in here.”
“Oh, well,” he teased as he pushed it into the player.
Shayler threw an empty water bottle at him, cackling as it hit him square in the back. He dove onto the bed, holding her down as he tickled her. She begged for mercy, clenching her thighs as she prayed she wouldn’t pee herself. David released her with a kiss to her cheek, and she squirmed up beside him as the movie started.
And just like that, everything was okay again.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The movie lasted an eternity, at least, that’s what it felt like to Shayler. Colin Firth had blubbered for three long, torturous hours while Helena Bonham Carter had reminded Shayler that she was actually kind of beautiful when she wasn’t crazy murdering Harry Potter’s godfather.
“Is it over now?” she asked as the credits rolled down the screen.
Beside her, David chuckled. “Yes.”
“Oh, thank God!” Shayler reached over him for the remote and clicked her off TV, the annoying orchestral music no longer threatening to put her to sleep. “That movie sucked.”
“Are you kidding me? It was funny and poignant and—”
“And you’re just saying all that to seem smarter.”
“Oh, yeah?”
With a sly smile, and before she could roll back to her side of the bed, David caught her wrist and held her tightly against him. Her pulse quickened as the smile faded and was replaced by something more serious. Shayler wasted no time in kissing him again. He circled her waist with his arms, using the new leverage to lie her down so that he was on top this time.
Shayler stopped for a second, his lips still brushing hers. The position was a new one. She was usually in charge, taking what she needed when she needed it. But now, David was in control, his hand flat on her stomach as his other hand stayed next to her head.
“Are you—”
“I’m fine,” she whispered, seeking out his stormy gray pupils for reassurance.
He hesitated before pulling her lower lip back in his mouth, and she was surprised by the nerves she felt fluttering around in her stomach. She’d had sex hundreds of times, fooled around even more, and yet her body reacted like she was some innocent virgin about to be deflowered on her wedding day.
It didn’t help that David looked so strong above her, so protective. His bicep strained to keep him steady as she tugged him closer. His beauty made her heart pound more, and when he broke away to peel off his shirt and toss it on the floor, Shayler swore she could’ve come right then. Fuck me. No six pack, no tattoos, David was solidly built with a scattering of hair on his chest that only emphasized how manly he was. And, God, did she need him.
Shayler launched herself forward, unable to wait for him to meet her halfway. She tangled her legs around his waist and her hands around his neck, latching onto his mouth like a leech—a sexy leech, she hoped. He pawed at her shirt with a grunt, not waiting for Shayler to get her arms out before he tried yanking it off her.
She giggled as it caught on her neck with her arms bent like a pretzel behind her, and he cursed as he untangled it and removed the top carefully. The laughter was close to turning into a fit of hysterics, but David’s stare put a stop to it. Lust and embarrassment mixed as she wondered if he thought she was weird now. Or maybe her struggle had given her an unfortunate double chin.
“What?”
He rested a palm on her cheek and dragged his thumb across her lip. “You’re … beautiful. So beautiful, Shayler.”
Shayler licked at the tip of his thumb, her breath lodged in her throat. She was so bare before him, even though he’d seen her like this before. It was more intimate now. Part of her wanted to hide under the blanket and ask if they could snuggle as she worried what it would mean if they went all the way.
And then she remembered that she was Shayler fucking Thompson, and he was David McPherson. They didn’t do awkward, and she didn’t do shy. She unclasped her bra and let it fall onto the bed, smirking as his gaze dropped to her breasts and, for once, stayed there.
“You’re killing me.”
“Your turn,” she said, gesturing to his pants.
“Not yet.”
Something primal flashed in his eyes, and her back hit the bed as he pounced. David nipped at her as he trailed hot, wet kisses down her neck. She moaned, arching into him as her nipples brushed against his chest. Her body tingled, and she clenched her thighs to stop from taking off her panties, tackling him, and jumping on top of his hard cock.
He ran his tongue from her collarbone to her breast, teasing her nipple while he hooked a finger through her panties and slid them down her legs. Shayler felt like a bundle of frayed wires, with every touch coaxing her towards an impending explosion.
David traced his finger around her clit, bringing her back to Club Social’s parking lot until he gave her a quick kiss and lowered himself in between her knees. Shayler was already panting, gasping with anticipation, as he pushed her skirt up and licked at her core.
Maybe Bobby had spent a long time going down on her, but David was accomplishing in seconds what’d taken Bobby an entire episode of New Girl. She pushed on his head, forcing his tongue closer as he flicked it frantically.
She cried out his name, grabbing at her breasts as she felt the wave of an impending orgasm. Two more flicks and it crashed over her, forcing her toes to curl and her stomach to drop as she gulped down air in between moans. Shayler let out a needy whine as he sat up, her legs too much like Jell-O for her to do the same.
He smiled perhaps the cockiest smile she’d ever seen and brought his lips back to hers. It set her off again, and she yanked him forward by his belt buckle and tugged down his pants. Shayler had seen her fair share of dicks, but coming face to face with David’s throbbing cock was like nothing she’d experienced before.
It wasn’t that he was a weird size or shape, it was pretty standard all things considered, but seeing him naked made it real. And the need in between her legs and dampness on the bed were evidence of just how much she wanted him, which was terrifying because sex had always been a way for Shayler to get off or have a little fun. But now, sex was going to mean so much more, wasn’t it? If David loved her, what did that mean for what they were going to do?
“Hey, we don’t have to,” he said, sitting beside her and taking her hand.
Shayler leaned up
on her elbows. “This is just sex.”
“I know.”
“I don’t want a marriage proposal at the end of this, okay?” She raised her brows, hoping she came across as serious instead of flustered.
“Shayler.” His gaze burned through hers. “I’ll give you whatever you want.”
She released a shaky breath. “Just an orgasm would be nice.”
“You mean another one?”
“Well, if you’re offering more than one…” she teased, tugging on his arm until he fell back on top of her.
Shayler brushed her lips against his as she wiggled out of her skirt. And, suddenly, she felt like he was looking at all of her. Not just her c-cups or short legs or wild hair, but deeper than that. Like he was looking inside her. She shivered.
“Are you cold?”
“I’m good,” she said, but David didn’t listen.
He covered them with a blanket but stayed above her, and Shayler could say for certain that she was warm. She just didn’t think it was the blanket. In fact, the fabric rustling against her leg was distracting her from David’s hands touching the rest of her, so she kicked it away.
“Uh, this is gonna sound lame, but do you have a condom?” he asked.
She looked up at him, and her mouth popped open to tell him she did. But she stopped, and she thought. “I take the shot. I’m covered.”
He scratched his neck, inching away slightly. “I don’t know…”
“I get checked every time I get the shot, if I’ve changed partners. I have a lot of sex, but I’m not stupid about it.”
David uncrossed her arms and held them above her head. “I didn’t say you were. I just think protection for us is smart if you don’t normally use it.”
He was so close to her, so close to kissing her or being inside her, her mind went fuzzy. “I always use condoms. But I-I don’t want to with you.”
Without responding, he pressed his mouth to hers. It was slow, sweet. Shayler dug her nails into his shoulders, wanting more, whispering that she needed him. Finally, after hundreds of years had passed, he pushed inside of her.
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