A knock sounds at my door, and Mick halts with his hand halfway up my ribcage, headed for my boob.
“Jolie, I made breakfast!”
Christine’s voice comes through my door, and I almost forgot her newfound love of Sunday family breakfast. She instated it when we got back from Thanksgiving break, and I have to admit that I like a fresh homemade waffle I didn’t have to cook.
But Mick has never been here for one, and he still hasn’t met my roommates. I know why I haven’t bitten the bullet yet. If I introduce him, if they know he’s real, they’ll have questions. And that means I have to talk about and openly admit that I’m falling in love with him.
“I’m okay,” I yell, trying to make my voice sound tired.
To my surprise, her voice comes through the door, meaning she stayed there to hear my excuse. “Your boyfriend can eat, too. The guy has been screwing you and sneaking out of here for weeks, I think he deserves a pancake.” Christine shouts over the sizzle of bacon.
That makes me giggle.
“Feel like breakfast?” I trail a hand up and down Mick’s abs.
“Sure.” He grins, knowing he’s finally gotten his way.
He’s been insinuating that he’d like to meet them for weeks.
We both get dressed in our scrubby Sunday clothes and then head out to the kitchen. Mick, per usual, towers over me and makes our ranch feel small. When we walk in, Christine is manning the stove, flipping over what look to be blueberry pancakes, and Maddy is sitting at the kitchen table, head buried in her cell phone.
“Guys, this is Mick.” I wave a hand at the tall drink of water behind me.
“Hey there. Thanks for letting me sneak around the past few weeks.” He smiles shyly.
Christine looks him up and down, assessing. Madison’s head shoots up, and a knowing smile graces her lips.
“Oh, thank you. I haven’t heard Jolie make sounds like that—” Madison starts, but I cut her off.
“That’s quite enough!” I shout, giving her a stern look.
An awkward silence passes through the kitchen, and I can’t tell whether Mick’s ears are going to burn off from embarrassment, or if he’s going to burst out laughing.
He breaks the quiet. “Can I help with breakfast at all?”
This seems to please Christine, because she gives me a tiny nod of approval. “That’s really nice of you, Mick. Neither of these two lazy asses ever offers to help. If you want to make the coffee, we’re almost ready here.”
Hopping to it, he doesn’t even ask how to use our machine. It’s a basic pot, but still. I love how in control he is, how nothing ever seems to rattle him.
I grab plates and cutlery, setting the table, all while Madison sits, staring at her phone.
“Um, are you going to help?” I ask.
She sighs, setting her phone down. “It’s just this guy from Friday night. I thought we really connected, and he hasn’t texted me back at all.”
“Who is he?” I ask, because I was at the gala with Mick on Friday.
“Some frat brother who shoved his tongue down her throat and then offered her molly.” I can hear Christine’s eye roll from here.
“He did not!” Madison protests. “He was so sweet and offered to walk me home. We talked about our favorite movies, he got me drinks all night. And he was so my type.”
“But he hasn’t texted you back?” I ask, knowing that’s not a good sign.
“Maybe he lost his phone, or it’s just dead,” Madison supplies.
“For two days?” Christine chimes in as she begins to bring plates of heaping breakfast food to the table.
I grimace. “Yeah, sorry, Mads, I don’t think that’s likely.”
“What do you think, Mick? These two are bringing down my mood.” She pouts.
Mick looks surprised as he sits down at the end of the table. He didn’t bargain being the male view on fuckboys this morning.
“Well, I think that it’s probably not likely, but give him a few days. If you hear from him, great. He might be a good one. But if not, move on. You deserve someone really great, with all that Jolie has told me.”
I haven’t told him much, but he’s just being his usual nice, incredible self.
Christine blinks at him, then points a serving fork in his direction. “I like this one. You can keep him.”
My eyes connect with Mick’s, and my heart feels like it’s being shocked by a defibrillator.
I like this one, too, so much so that I want to keep him. Possibly forever.
27
Mick
It’s only fair that if I got to meet her roommates, she gets to meet mine.
A couple days later, after getting off a phone call with Mom about Dad’s impressive progress the past few weeks, Jolie shows up at my dorm room with lunch.
“You said you were too busy for lunch, so I brought it to you.” She smiles, holding up a bag that smells suspiciously of brisket tacos.
My mouth waters, and not just over the food. “You didn’t have to do that.”
She shrugs, bypassing me to come into our suite foyer. It’s small, with the tiny kitchen compromised of a hot plate and a mini-fridge next to it.
“I wanted to, plus, then I don’t have to be sneaking around campus, pretending to be in classes I’m not actually in.”
“Nah, but you literally couldn’t even look at a picture. Not one tit.” We hear from the living room, which is just feet away.
My three roommates are deep in discussion, and part of me wonders if any of them go to class. They always seem to be home, usually all together.
I’m not sure what they’re squabbling about, but Jolie is standing right next to me, so I interrupt them. “Guys, I want you to meet Jolie.”
All three heads whip our way, and their eyes are hungry when they look at her. Jealousy boils in my veins, but she reaches out to grab my hand with her free one.
“Nice to meet you!” she says cheerily.
Aside from the night that she showed up to my place drunk, my roommates haven’t seen her. We typically spend night’s at her house, because who wants to sleep two people in a twin bed? But the times I have brought her here, it’s been discreet. I don’t like explaining myself to people, and my roommates would only shorten the time I have to spend with her.
“How’s it going? I’m Rodney,” Rodney finally pipes up, his voice squeaking like a prepubescent teenager.
“Martin.” Martin waves.
“Hi, I’m Paul.” Paul walks over to shake her hand, which makes her giggle.
“What are you guys doing?” she asks, observing the TV screen.
There is a paused video game on it, something with zombies and a crossbow.
“We were playing this new video game, but then got into an argument. Because Rodney wanted to dip out, and I said it was probably so he could jack it,” Paul explains as if this is all matter-of-fact.
Rodney blushes, stammering, “That was not the reason.”
It probably was the reason, but I wasn’t throwing my horse into this argument.
“Anyway, then we got into an argument. Would you rather have to give up video games, or porn?” Martin supplies, filling her in on what they were arguing about.
“Oh my God.” I slap a hand to my forehead, because why did he just tell her that.
“Dude!” Rodney slaps our roommate in the bicep.
But next to me, Jolie chuckles. “Hmm … well, I don’t play video games. So, I guess I could give those up, and keep porn. Definitely keeping porn.”
And now I’m wondering what kind of porn she watches, what she looks like when she touches herself, and why I’ve never wondered this before. It would make excellent material for me.
Looking around at the other guys, they’re definitely thinking the same thing. Which only makes the green monster inside me rage more.
“That’s enough of that.” I chuckle, trying to steer her out of the living room.
“I’d give up porn.” Paul shrugs. �
�If I could find it with a real girl, it’s better anyway.”
“That’s kind of romantic.” Jolie tips her head to the side, considering the answer.
“Video games, hands down,” Rodney offers, even though he was just embarrassed about porn before.
“Same. I could never give up porn.” Martin nods vigorously.
How we got on this topic of conversation the moment my … girl, I guess that’s what she is, walked in the door, I’ll never know. All I want is some time with her before I have to go back to calling ALS trials around the country to get my Dad into and eat those brisket tacos.
“Which would you give up?” Jolie turns to me.
I really don’t want to keep standing here talking about this, but she won’t budge her feet to come to my room.
A frustrated breath escapes my throat. “It doesn’t really matter to me. I don’t care for either, so I don’t need to choose.”
“What?” Rodney cries. “We knew you didn’t like video games, but porn? You don’t care for porn?”
“I don’t even know what that means,” Martin chimes in.
Jolie turns to me. “You don’t like either? So you don’t watch porn?”
“Are you telling me you don’t bop the bologna? Choke the chicken? Fire off some knuckle-children?” Paul asks, incredulous.
I can’t even help but crack up at his ridiculous phrasing. “I don’t even know where you come up with this stuff. But yes, even though it’s highly personal and none of you should be asking, I do … choke the chicken.”
Jolie snorts at my innuendo.
I continue, tapping the side of my temple. “I just don’t use porn to do so. I don’t need videos, if you catch my drift. I’m a thinker.”
They all breathe out a collective ah.
“So now that you all know my masturbation preferences, can we eat our lunch now?” I ask her.
Jolie chuckles. “Yes. It was good to meet you guys.”
I practically drag her back to my room. Once we’re inside, I slam the door closed. “Sorry about them.”
“No, I thought it was funny. Although I have so many questions.” Jolie presses up on her toes, kissing my cheek, and then flouncing over to sit on my bed.
“Give me a taco, and then maybe I’ll answer them,” I plead, because I really am hungry.
She opens the bag and lays out the spread on my comforter. I sit beside her, and we clink our tacos together before taking a bite.
“So, you said you don’t watch porn. You like to think. Enlighten me on that.” Her brown eyes twinkle with amusement, and something purely carnal.
I roll my own. “I’ve just never been into porn. I tried it, of course, a lot when I was first … you know. Discovering myself. But it always came off forced, or creepy. The scenarios are so fake, and I wasn’t, I don’t know. It didn’t do it for me. So I just started thinking of things that would.”
“Like what?” She licks a spot of sauce off her pinky finger.
I shrug. “My math teacher in eighth grade, I thought she was cute. Celebrities that interested me. And then when I got some experience, I’d think about those.”
Jolie flushes. “That’s kind of hot. Do you think about me?”
“Yes, of course. I have since the summer.” My cock twitches in my shorts.
I’ve had so many fantasies of her. She’s the main attraction whenever I jerk off now, and probably always will be.
“What do you think about?” She stops eating.
“Your body. The sounds you make. That time we had sex on the obstacle course at camp …”
Just remembering it makes me so aroused, I’m no longer hungry either. Jolie is looking at me like I’m her next meal, and my dick is begging me to unzipper it and let it out.
A beat of silence passes between us, charged with sexual electricity.
“I think it’s time for dessert now.” She sets her taco down.
I chuckle. “I have to work, Jolie.”
She begins to crawl toward me. “Nothing like a quickie to make your studying more productive.”
And with the angle she’s stalking me, I can see right down her shirt.
“I think that’s a really smart point,” I say, right before shoving the food to the floor.
28
Jolie
The Pub is absolutely packed as my friends slide into our booth.
I beat them here today, having gotten out of my course at the community college early.
“Y’all are going to kill it on Sunday,” Darrell tells Charlie.
“You know it. Regional championship, we’re going to slaughter them.” Andy kisses his own bicep.
I roll my eyes as they all sit with their lunches. “Do we have to do the sports talk today?”
“What would you rather us talk about, periods and pedicures?” Charlie winks at me.
“Yes, because that’s what all women talk about.” Britta, his girlfriend, hits him gently on the back of the head.
“Damn, you beat the line. It’s a madhouse today.” Christine points at my sushi tray.
Madison sips what looks like a smoothie. “Everyone is in here before finals, pretending to study. Except they’re all doing what we’re doing, eating and gossiping.”
“Who said we’re gossiping?” Darrell asks.
“As if we do anything else. Plus, I have some good juicy stuff. I heard that the president of that fraternity down the street from us got suspended for trying to wax his roommate’s balls during hazing.”
“What the fuck is wrong with people?” Britta looks disgusted.
“Yeah, that’s messed up. I’d clock a guy if he tried that with me. It’s why I stay far away from those houses,” Andy says.
And if Andy is saying it, we should all take warning.
I spot a familiar face across the Pub, and without thinking, yell out.
“Mick, hey!” I shout, not thinking of where I am.
He looks up, spotting me at the ten-person booth.
This is the moment we faced almost four months ago, when Mick’s appearance in the Pub took me by such surprise that I acted like a total moron. He hesitates, waiting to see if he should come over, and I make up my mind in an instant. My best friends have already met him, we’re practically shacking up on the daily, and I’m not the same girl I was months ago.
That’s thanks to him. So I wave him over enthusiastically, and I can feel the eyes on me from the table I sit at.
“Hey.” He nods at me, and waves to my roommates.
“Come sit with us, do you have lunch yet?” I ask.
It’s a big moment, and maybe not everyone at the table understands that, but the two of us do. This was the moment I acted ashamed of him, and it shows how much I care about him, and what we have.
I scoot over, making the tiniest sliver of room on the outside of the booth.
“Yeah, join us,” Christine says, smiling.
She’s all for our relationship, grilling me each and every day about Mick and when I’m going to lock it down. I don’t know what I was so afraid of, keeping the seriousness of our connection from my best friends. They’ve been nothing but supportive and even complain about when they’ll find someone like him for themselves.
Mick heads over, shimmying past other tables packed with students. When he sits down, I can feel how anxious he is.
“This is Mick, he’s my …” I trail off, knowing that I can’t call him my boyfriend. “Well, we’ve been spending lots of time together.”
“Oh, I remember those early days.” Darrell gives me a knowing grin, while his girlfriend Eileen squeezes his arm in recognition.
I duck my head, blushing because this is all so official. “Yes. Anyways, this is the gang.”
Everyone goes around and introduces themselves, and I can feel the tension coming off Mick. He’s not really a big crowds type of guy. He fakes it when he has to, but mostly he keeps to himself. At the gala he took me to, I did most of the talking, and he seemed to be thankful for
that. But these people would have questions, not for me, for him.
Mick is wearing some kind of nerd shirt again, I swear he has a closet full of the geekiest shirts ever, and Charlie notices.
“Dude, you like Stranger Things?” Charlie asks, pointing to Mick’s shirt.
Mick looks down and then back up. “Yeah, love it. I can’t wait for the fourth season to come out.”
Charlie leans into the table from the other side. “Aw, man, I love that show! I’ve been getting in heated arguments with Andy about it. So, how can the Mind Flayer be destroyed?”
I have no freaking idea what he’s talking about, but apparently Mick does, because he gets so animated when he answers.
“Well, the Mind Flayer’s body is dead, but I’m pretty sure the consciousness is still alive and kicking because it latched onto Will. And then we saw that scene with Billy at the pool, so honestly, I’m not sure. Can’t wait to see if Eleven can stop him.”
“This is all so nerdy, I can’t take it,” Madison whines.
Andy throws her an annoyed look and goes on to ask Mick some more burning questions on the show. The three of them chatter away, exchanging theories and fandom before telling everyone at the table they need to start watching this show.
I lean over to Christine. “Well, guess I didn’t have to worry about him fitting in.”
My best friend looks at me and lowers her voice so only I can hear. “This is a good one, Jolie. Don’t let him go. I’ve never seen you as happy and grounded as you have been in the last few months, and Mick is a diamond in this rough, rough sea of men in our generation. You deserve this. He deserves you.”
She squeezes my hand under the table and then drops it. I’m floored. It isn’t often that Christine praises me, or even stops her analytical, critical brain for enough seconds to appreciate something.
Nerdy Little Secret Page 13
