An age gap love story.
A brokenhearted billionaire.
A college girl.
*****
"Nevaeh," Aiden whispers, "can I rest my head on your shoulder?"
I nod, letting him rest his head on my shoulder. He closes his eyes.
"Thank you." He sighs in contentment. "...
Warning: It's not smut, but... it might be uncomfortable to read *clears throat*
***
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I close the book on my lap, shut my eyes, and throw my head back against the headboard of my bed. For this past hour, I've been trying to read something related to my work but can't focus.
What happened inside the painting room yesterday lingers in my mind, and I can't go to sleep. Tonight's going to be a long one.
My mind goes crazy. Seeing what was written on Olivia's card again angers me but it doesn't bother me as much as seeing Nevaeh's teary eyes when I told her to leave. Now, it's the only thing that I can think about.
I run my fingers through my hair and curse. Fuck.
I hate this. I hate this restlessness inside me. I hate this feeling.
This has been triggering me for quite a while, and it becomes more obvious the more I spend time with Nevaeh. I remember feeling something I shouldn't have.
My heart raced. I became nervous. I got...excited.
"Fuck." This time, I curse out loud.
I still remember how nauseous I was when two girls clung to me in the club the night I met Alex. I'm very sure that I wanted to throw up.
But strangely, I felt the exact opposite when my eyes landed on Neva-- Fuck.
This realization makes me want to laugh in disbelief.
Indeed, I had a boner once when she was around. I had a fucking boner.
It doesn't make any sense. For these past two years, I've seen attractive women approaching me and I feel nothing. On the other hand, Nevaeh is just a girl. She's not even a woman.
Goddammit, she's even younger than my little sister. What the heck is going on?
I can't feel something like this only for her. I can't be turned on only by her.
My gaze darts on my laptop sitting on my desk in the corner of my room. This might be ridiculous, but I need to see something. Maybe, I'm not that fucked up anymore.
I walk to my desk, open my laptop, and let out a long sigh.
OK. Here we go. What am I going to do now?
Right. Watching porn.
I'm going to watch porn. I can't even remember the last time I watched porn. Hell, I don't know what the fuck I'm doing.
Reluctantly, I type the web address that half of the population of the world knows, and a lot of videos show up.
Now I'm starting to think that I'm indeed fucked up, because a horrible feeling starts to stir inside me. Hell, no. I need to prove something.
