"...amazing you still have a job," Kenny said as Scott entered the kitchen.
I didn't catch the rest of it because my brain stopped working for a moment there when I saw Scott enter the room.
"Good morning to you too, Ken," said Scott, stifling a yawn. "Yes, I called work and told them I had an emergency. It's all good."
Yup, the emergency being getting me off. Scott's gaze fell on me. He looked tired. Did he have trouble sleeping too last night?
All I could see when I looked at him now was him between my legs doing unspeakable things to me in the gentlest way any man had ever treated me. He was the perfect combination of gentle and assertive, making the experience surprisingly hot.
No, stop thinking that. I looked away from Scott and gulped. Calm down, calm down, I chanted to myself.
"Good morning, Stace," said Scott, briefly laying his hand on my shoulder in passing.
I reflexively shrugged my shoulder out of his grasp, then cringed. A little too late to run from his touch now. A little too late to pretend I don't love it.
"Good morning," I said, the words coming out as a squeak.
A pained look flashed in Scott's eyes as he withdrew his hand from me. I wished I could stop myself from acting stupidly around him. I wanted to drown myself in my coffee cup.
Things were such a mess. When he held me after we did it yesterday afternoon, I thought we were good. Then nightfall came and it suddenly hit me. We boned. After that, I couldn't look him in the eye, much less let him hold me all night. How naive was I? Of course we weren't good. We fucked. Boning and fucking seemed like the wrong words for what happened. Did Scott Brady make love to me?
I don't know how much sleep he got. We had our backs to each other all night. I barely got any, and yet I felt wide awake.
"You okay, Stace?" Kenny asked, looking at me with concern. "You're not coming down with something, are you?"
Scott and I looked at each other. Again, I was the first to look away. Dammit.
"All good. Thanks Ken," I said, raising my coffee cup to my lips.
Flashes of Scott's lips lightly brushing up against mine danced before my eyes and I stopped drinking, setting the mug down with a thump.
Scott and Kenny both gave me weird looks, but said nothing.
"So what was the emergency?" Kenny asked, stuffing his face with eggs like the whole world hadn't just changed overnight.
I was just glad I didn't have the coffee in my hands that time.
"What?" Scott asked stupidly. "The emergency?"
When I looked at him this time, it was like watching a train wreck. I was drowning in his big brown eyes. I couldn't look away.
"The one you told Vogue you had. I mean obviously you went to the wake. That's not what you said though, is it?" Kenny asked, still intent on polishing off his plate.
"Right. Uhm, I can't remember what I said," said Scott, floundering.
He was so cute. Watching him struggle to not say he was balls deep inside me yesterday just made me a little wet.
"What did you guys do after the wake?" Kenny asked, looking between Scott and I.
Our gazes were still locked. I needed him to be the first to look away this time. I just couldn't do it.
"We uhm, you know, we just—" Scott stammered.
"Hung out," I said, a sinking feeling coming over me. "Watched Apple TV+."
That might as well be what we did, because from the looks of him, we were never doing what we actually did ever again.
"Oh yeah, what show?" Kenny asked, getting up to take his plate to the sink. "It better not be Shrinking, because that is an us—"
"What is this, twenty questions?" Scott snapped. "I'm leaving. I don't want to be late."
"Okay," said Kenny, taken aback as he returned to the island. "Prickly much? Aren't you taking Stacy with you? To drop her off?"
"That's okay," I said hastily. "My first class is only in two hours."
Scott knew that was bullshit. He knew my roster like the back of his hand. He didn't contradict me though.
"Okay. See you guys later," was all he said, before he finally looked away and left.
It was a good thing I was a savant, because I couldn't focus on my lectures. I was hot and bothered, thinking of nothing but being touched by him again. Which was ironic, given how I reacted this morning. I tried to think about how to fix things instead, but it wouldn't take. Did he touch every woman he was with like that?
I considered not going home that night. Most of my things were still at the hotel anyway. That wasn't going to fix anything though. And neither was what I walked in on once I got home.
"Fuck no," I said, watching him prepare the couch for sleep.
"Don't worry, I'll take the couch," he said, sitting himself down on it.
"No one's taking the couch," I insisted stubbornly.
It was happening already. He was pulling away from me. Well I wasn't going to stand for it.
"You cringed when I touched your shoulder this morning, Stace. You tossed and turned all night. For fuck's sake, you won't even let me drive you to campus. We're not sleeping in the same bed tonight," he said, folding his arms, trying not to seem upset.
"I, I'm just, aah fuck, it's weird, okay? Shit's weird," I said lamely, unable to tell him how I was feeling.
He got under the comforter and said, "Exactly. Turn the light out on your way to bed. Goodnight Stace."
It was barely seven. No way he was going to sleep. I yanked the comforter off him and took it to bed with me, slamming the door behind me. Did I expect him to follow? Yes. Did he? No.
I waited into the dead of the night, trying to focus on my studies, hoping that he might walk through that door, but he never did.
The next day I let him drive me to campus, hoping to talk about it on the car ride, but I still couldn't find the words to say what I needed to. Just what the fuck did I want from him anyway?
That night as I laid in his bed all alone, I was ready to explode I was so turned on. His scent was everywhere. How had I never noticed that before?
"Something's wrong with me. I'm on the verge of losing my best friend and all I can think about is fucking him," I said, staring up at the ceiling.
Just as I was about to slip my hand down my panties, there was a knock on the door. It swung open to reveal Scott.
"This doesn't have to be a thing," he said. "We can get past this."
And that was when I knew exactly what I wanted. I didn't want to get past anything. I wanted more.
"Sure," I said anyway, watching him enter the room.
I was undressing him with my eyes, so I looked down. He sat down on the bed, gingerly getting in next to me.
"You sure this is okay?" he asked, turning his head to me.
The last time he asked me that, I let him stick it to me. Fuck, my head was dirty.
"Yup. Totally fine," I said, his scent now hitting my nostrils harder.
What would he think if I told him I was wet for him? And getting more so by the second. Like the first night, he turned his back on me.
"Goodnight, Stace," he said, turning the lamp on his side off.
I licked my lips, rubbing my thighs together to create friction.
"Goodnight Scottie," I said, willing myself to fall asleep.
When we woke up the next morning, I was wrapped tightly in his arms. I almost jumped out of my skin when I realized that he was already awake. He was watching me sleep.
"Going to tell me why it has to be the right side of the bed today?" I asked him, as his finger traced the same spot behind my ear over and over, like he was in some sort of trance.
"Nope. My little secret. Keep asking and I might tell you someday," he said, letting his hand drop to wrap his arm around my middle.
My greedy body missed his touch behind my ear, but simultaneously loved the tingles caused by the sudden presence of his one arm joining the other around me.
"How long have you been awake?" I asked, not daring to move.
When he tried to let me go, I wrapped an arm around his middle and clung to him. He seemed to get the message because his arms wrapped back around me.
"A while," he said, kissing my forehead. "It's time to get up, Stace."
"Not yet," I said, hating how clingy I sounded.
I had been living the dream for seven years, waking up in his arms and taking it for granted.
Maybe I was too clingy for his liking, because he didn't come back that night. For the rest of the week he slept on the couch, telling Kenny that I needed the room to focus on my studies. Reluctantly, I moved my stuff into Scott's room, who wouldn't set foot into it when I was home unless it was to get clothes or something else he deemed essential. I tried to let go of what happened and just focus on moving on.
But by Saturday, the ache between my legs had become unbearable. Unable to ignore it any longer, I got comfortable on the bed, having discarded my panties and pants on the floor in one big heap. My eyes fell closed as my fingers slid down between my thighs.
"Scott," his name slipped out of my mouth as my fingers plunged into my wet pussy. "Oh Scottie, yes," I moaned, wishing it was him fingering me.
Desperate for release, I alternated between fingering myself and rubbing my clit.
"Fuck yes. Fuck me, Scott. Harder. Oh yes," I moaned, my voice climbing as the pleasure rose in intensity, him pumping his dick inside me behind my closed eyes.
"Are you fucking crazy? Fuck, Stace," I heard Scott's voice whisper from the doorway. "What if Kenny hears you?"
My head whipped to him and I froze, my legs spread wide with two fingers buried inside my pussy. I wasn't the only one who was compromised though. He was freshly showered, with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. His eyes dropped to what I was doing. I could see him debate whether or not he could trust himself to enter the room.
"Dammit, cover yourself up," he said, turning around.
"Do it yourself," I said, still too horny to be thinking clearly.
"Stacy, I need to get into my room so I can get to my clothes. For the love of God, cover yourself up," he insisted, but I had already gone back to fingering myself as thoughts of his towel dropping filled my head.
"Are you decent?" he asked after some time.
"Completely," I said, reluctantly withdrawing my fingers from my pussy to pull my shirt up and over my head.