by S. M. Shade
“One, two, three.”
Owen never really had a chance. Marty is too tall. He’s all leg. It takes him a second with their legs locked together to flip Owen over, smashing his face in the mud. “Best two out of three,” Owen insists, lying down again.
The second attempt doesn’t go any better, and Owen leaps up. “Screw this! Real wrestling! First one to tap out!”
Layton leans down to murmur into my ear. “This isn’t going to go well.” It sends a chill racing down my spine.
“Owen is stubborn. He doesn’t quit.”
Layton looks down at me. “Are you two seeing each other?”
The question catches me off guard. I suppose it makes sense he’d think that since Owen often gives me a ride. “No, he’s just a friend…I’m not seeing anyone.” After a moment of hesitation, I add, “Are you?”
“No.” He sighs. “I had a chance with a beautiful piano player, but I may have blown it. Any advice on winning her back?”
My heart thumps in my chest, and I’m doing my best not to show it. “I don’t know much about that, but I would suggest not running like your ass is on fire when she kisses you.”
Our attention is drawn back to the tank of mud where Owen and Marty start grabbing each other. What neither of them seemed to anticipate was how slick mud on metal would be. Slipping and sliding, they fight more to stay on their feet than they fight each other. Marty finally gets Owen down and makes him tap out.
“Fine!” Owen shouts, wiping mud out of his eyes. “You win! A hotdog isn’t a sandwich!”
Layton and I both glance at each other before cracking up. That’s what they were arguing over?
Marty throws a handful of mud at Owen, but he dodges it. Owen scoops up a huge glob and chucks it at Marty’s head as he looks away, and it splats right on target. When Marty starts toward Owen, he tries to run.
It’s like the run of so many cartoon characters, only instead of running in one place in the air, he’s running in one place as his feet slide on the mud. A split second later, he loses his balance and falls. He’s quick enough to protect his head, and I don’t know exactly what hit the bottom of the tank, maybe an elbow, but the sound it makes is legendary.
Bwonggggg.
It stretches out over the still night and everyone pauses for a silent moment until Owen speaks, still lying in the mud. “Well, that was loud.”
There’s no holding the laughter back anymore, and tears run down my face as Marty helps Owen out of the tank.
“Idiots,” Remee scoffs, a smile on her face.
Maybe it’s the alcohol—the beer and shots seem to have caught up to me in the last few minutes—or just the situation, but I can’t stop laughing. Layton smiles down at me and my chest aches with the effort to hold it in. All I can do is point in Owen’s direction. “He—the sound—I can’t.”
Oh god. I’ve got a full on case of the giggles and I can’t stop.
Gripping my side that’s in agony now, I gasp to grab a breath when I can. Get it together, Kelly, for fuck’s sake. It doesn’t help when I realize half the neighborhood is watching and laughing at me now instead of Owen.
A loud hiccup just makes things worse, and Layton grabs my hand. “Come on, let’s get you some water, birthday girl.”
We head across the street, and my hiccups and giggles sound so much louder in the silence of my apartment. “I have to pee,” I announce, making a beeline for the bathroom.
After I relieve myself and wash my hands, the room starts to tilt back and forth. I’ve gotten control of the giggles, but the hiccups are fierce.
Layton waits for me in the hall with a bottle of water, and his blurry smile is the last thing I remember.
Chapter Eleven
Layton
The sound of the party rages outside but the moment Kelly emerges from the bathroom, I know she’s done. A bright smile leaps to her face like she’s forgotten I was here in the last two minutes and is surprised to see me. She closes one glassy eye, trying to focus on me.
“You know what’s sexier than you?”
My eyebrows raise, and she giggles.
“Two of you.” Her words are stretched and slightly slurred.
“Do you see two of me?”
“Yep.” She steps forward and hooks her arms around my neck. The talk I want to have with her is going to have to wait until tomorrow. I need to get her to bed before she passes out.
“Drink this.” She blinks and steps back when I raise the bottle of water between us.
She stumbles a little, and I grab her waist. “That’s not my beer.”
“Water is better for hiccups.” I’ve learned a long time ago that most drunk people don’t respond well to the you’ve had enough statement.
“Oh, okay.”
“Do you want to show me your room?”
She sucks her bottom lip in and rakes a look over me that makes my cock instantly hard. Not that I’m going to be able to do anything with it tonight. What she wants is clear, and fuck, do I want to give it to her, but not like this.
“Yeah, it’s this way.”
I follow her to her room, and she sits on the edge of the bed. “What are you doing?” she asks when I kneel in front of her.
“Taking your shoes off.”
Giggling, she falls onto her back while I remove her shoes. “Do you have a foot fetish or something? Like, you want to lick my toes?”
“Is that the way I come across? As a toe licker?”
“No, bet you lick other things good, though.”
Fuck, don’t put those thoughts in my head right now. Even drunk out of her mind, she looks amazing, her shorts riding up on creamy white thighs, the peek of her stomach showing between her waistband and tank top, the way her fiery hair spreads across the blanket. All I want to do is strip her and kiss every inch of her skin.
“Behave.”
A pout purses her lips. “You don’t want me?”
Somebody help me.
Her eyes struggle open when I lean over her and plant a chaste kiss on her lips. “Sweetheart, I’ve never wanted anything more, but you’re drunk. You need to sleep it off.”
Her smile is back. “I am drunk. It feels amazing. Today has been the best ever.” She throws her arm over her eyes, still talking. “I wanted your penis though. No…cock, you say cock when you’re talking about sex, right? I want your cock sounds so much better than penis. Never wiener though, that’s just weird. Who would say I want your wiener? Total turn off. Cock is the right choice. And I want it. I thought you came to give it to me. You know, birthday cock.”
Never have I found drunk babbling so endearing. When I start to reply to her, I hear a snore. She’s out.
It’s warm in her room, so I don’t bother to pull back the covers before moving her up the bed where she can lie on her pillow. The party still goes on outside the apartment, and I really don’t want to leave her here alone. Her friends aren’t going to be in much better shape. After a few moments of indecision, I crawl into bed beside her. We’re both fully clothed. There won’t be any doubt that nothing happened when she wakes up.
I have a feeling she doesn’t drink often, and she’s going to get an unpleasant surprise in the morning when she feels like hell.
A groan wakes me, and I look down to see the top of her head. We fell asleep on opposite sides of the bed, but now she’s lying with her face pressed to my chest. My arm is around her, and I raise my hand to brush her hair back from her cheek.
“Are you alive?”
“Not sure,” she mumbles without opening her eyes. “This could be a dream since you’re in my bed. Or a nightmare because my head feels like it’s full of bees, but I guess either means I’m still alive.”
When I start to move, she throws her arm over me. “Uh-uh, we aren’t moving. Just staying right here.”
Despite her hangover, a small smile appears when I chuckle. “I’m going to get you some water.”
“Put some morphine in it and you have a
deal.”
The apartment is quiet when I grab her a bottle of water from the kitchen. There’s some ibuprofen on the kitchen counter and I spill a couple in my palm for her.
“A-hem.” My entire body jerks at the unexpected sound of a throat clearing behind me, and I turn to see Owen leaning against the doorjamb, a grin on his face. “I had no idea you were such a dedicated teacher. Look at you, here first thing in the morning on the weekend for a tutoring session.”
Fuck. “Kelly isn’t my student. And I stayed because she was drunk.”
“Now, Mr. A…actually, should I still call you Mr. A? I mean, first names seem more appropriate for a morning after in the kitchen walk of shame conversation, but I can’t remember your first name.”
This little asshole. “You can call me Layton outside of school.”
“Layton. Does this mean you’re going to be around outside of school?” His taunting voice matches his grin.
I turn around and lean against the counter. “Do you have a problem with me seeing Kelly? Are you going to give me shit all the time?” There’s still a small part of me that thinks he’s interested in her, whether it’s reciprocal or not. She may not be my student, but I still don’t need him running to the college board to make a huge deal out of this.
“Nah, I don’t have a problem with it.” He laughs and grabs a drink out of the fridge. “But yes, I will give you shit all the time because this is hilarious and that’s who I am.”
“Fair enough,” I tell him, passing him to head back to Kelly’s bedroom.
“Right, you should get back to the adulting lessons. Although, I guess sex ed would technically be considered…”
His voice fades then cuts off as I shut Kelly’s bedroom door. She walks out of the bathroom and looks up at me, blinking like she hasn’t been in sunlight in years. “Was that Owen?”
I can smell the minty scent of her toothpaste when she passes me and crawls back into bed. “Yes, and he never shuts up.”
Her smile is short and sweet. Sitting up, she leans her forehead on her palm. “I might be having an aneurysm. No way a hangover can be this bad.”
“How’s your stomach?”
“I don’t feel sick.”
“Here. Water and Ibuprofen. Then shower and coffee, you’ll feel like new.”
She swallows the pills, guzzles half the water bottle, then falls back on the bed. “Nap, then shower and coffee. I don’t have to work today.”
I sit on the bed beside her. “I’m sorry for the way I reacted when you kissed me. I didn’t want you to quit my class and lose a credit.”
Her lips twitch as if she’s holding back a smile. “I didn’t quit because of you. I quit because it’s boring and I’m not interested in economics.”
With my hand over my heart, I wince. “Ouch, why don’t you just tell me I’m ugly and I smell bad too?”
Giggling, she lies with her cheek on her hand, gazing up at me. “I said economics is boring, not you. If it makes you feel better, I kind of hate all my classes except music. Which reminds me, I’m going to talk to the activities director about putting on a small concert for the retirement home. I need a community project for music class.”
“I’m sure they’d love that.” Her eyes stay on mine when I lie down beside her and run my fingers through her hair. “You bought my grandmother light up shoes.”
A shy smile blooms, and she shrugs. “It’s what she wanted. Her friend has a pair of them.”
“She loves them. Had them on and was showing anyone who would look how they flashed. It was really sweet of you.” Before she can respond, I kiss her. It’s just a light, quick brush of the lips, but not for long. Taking her face in my hands, I do what I’ve wanted to since the second I saw her.
Her hand slides into my hair and she lets out a small moan as I kiss the hell out of her. Her pulse beats under my tongue when I move on top of her, kissing down her neck. She runs her hands up and down my back, then squeezes my ass. The way her cheeks start to glow when I push her shirt up and take a moment to admire her is sexy as hell. She doesn’t hesitate to make the first move but is shy enough to blush when I see her tits. It’s such a strange mix of innocent and assertiveness that’s completely disarming. Even more so because she doesn’t seem to know she’s doing it. It’s not an act. She’s not playing coy. It’s just her.
A sharp knock on the door makes both of us jump and she pulls her shirt down. “Unless someone is dead, go away!” she shouts.
A snort of laughter is followed by Serena’s voice. “Trey is going to be here in a few minutes with registration paperwork for your scooter. Might want to have pants on.”
“Who’s Trey?” I whisper, seeing how her eyes widen.
“My older brother. He’s kind of overprotective. This might not be the best time for you two to meet.”
No, probably not. Especially since this wasn’t what I was planning to do. I wanted to bring her birthday gifts and ask her out.
Still on top of her, I plant a kiss on the corner of her mouth. “Can I see you tonight? I can cook for you at my place, or we can go out for dinner and a movie.”
The long pause while she blinks up at me isn’t exactly comforting. “Won’t you get in trouble dating me? I don’t want you to lose your job.”
“You aren’t my student anymore. As long as we don’t advertise it at school, I’m not concerned. It’s not like you’re underage.”
Her smile is teasing. “I don’t know. You’re awfully old.”
“I’m twenty-eight,” I growl, burying my face in her neck to suck the soft place just behind her ear.
“Okay,” she gasps. “You talked me into it.” She sucks on her bottom lip when I gaze down at her.
“Do you have any idea what I want to do to you?”
Her words come out on a near whisper. “I can’t wait to find out.”
“Tonight at seven?”
She nods, and I sit up, putting some space between us before I decide I don’t give two shits about her brother. “We don’t have to go out anywhere. Dinner at your place sounds perfect. So does breakfast.”
The school can go to hell. I want her.
Kelly takes a moment to show me her new scooter her brother got her for her birthday, and I make a quick exit before he shows up. I’m not planning to hide the fact we’re seeing each other—outside of school at least—but considering we haven’t even had an actual date yet, it’s a little early for either of us to meet family.
Just when I think my week can’t get any more eventful, an email pushes me toward a decision I’ve been considering for a long time.
Ransing Corp, the company Travis said he recommended me to, is looking for a freelance consultant. The offer is extremely lucrative. It blows my teacher salary out of the water—not that that’s difficult to manage—but it also shows me what I could probably make by offering these services to other companies as well. If I decided to make this leap, to be an independent contractor, I’d have so much freedom.
The ability to set my own hours, to do the type of work I really enjoy. Analysis would be my specialty. There’s something so satisfying about creating mathematical and statistical models to make predictions on the economic impact of certain actions or decisions. It feels like a superpower, predicting the future, then watching to see if it falls the way I thought it would. So far, I’ve mostly used these skills to build my own stock portfolio. Doing it on a grander scale would be exciting. I’d also be open to auditing, and I know there are plenty of opportunities out there for that as well.
There are downsides, of course. There’s always going to be uncertainty in going to work for yourself, but if this is what I really want, I don’t see a reason to wait.
The email asks for a copy of my resume, and I don’t waste any time sending it to them. If they want me to start right away, I’m sure I can juggle both jobs until the end of the semester. One thing I know for sure. Teaching isn’t for me. It’s not just that the students don’t seem to have m
uch enthusiasm for my subject. I don’t particularly enjoy teaching it either and maybe that shows in their lack of interest.
We’ll see how it goes. Right now, all I can think about is seeing Kelly tonight.
Chapter Twelve
Kelly
I’m spending the night at Layton’s place. It’s necessary to keep telling myself because I barely believe it. Tonight is the night I lose my virginity. I’m going to see what all the fuss is about and while I’m so nervous I could throw up, I’m also excited.
Just the thought of seeing him naked, of him seeing me naked, touching him, his hands on me. My stomach is full of butterflies.
Worry tries to seep in. What if I’m not good at it? Even for my first time? How badly will it hurt? Should I even tell him I’ve never done it before?
No, I’m not going to let anxiety take over. Tonight is going to be great. What Serena and Zara said about losing your virginity is true. It may not be some big leap into womanhood or change who I am, but it will be a milestone. A night I’ll always remember.
Zara grins at me when I walk into the living room with my overnight bag slung over my shoulder. “You look great.”
“Thanks…um, I’m going to be out for the night so don’t worry when I don’t come home.”
Serena sits up straight. “You’re going to fuck your teacher.” Before I can say anything, she grins, adding, “Those slutty shorts are perfect. I’m so proud.”
Damn her perceptive self.
“His name is Layton, and these aren’t slutty shorts.” I smile at my reflection in the mirror across the room, turning sideways to get a better look. “They do make my ass look good.”
Remee regards me from her spot on the couch. “Are you sure about this, Kelly?”
A smile forms on my face. “I am. I found my starter penis.” The word penis brings back a foggy memory of last night. Oh my god, did I rant at him about wanting his penis? Then correct myself that it’s a cock? Was it out loud or did it only happen in my head? I have no idea.
“Hello, earth to Kelly,” Zara laughs, snapping her fingers. Great, I’m just standing here grinning like an idiot.
