𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝑾𝒆 𝑫𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝑺𝒂𝒚

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲-𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨

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𝐀 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥
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Tuesday, December 12th, 2017

He takes off for the showers, as I lay upside down in his bed watching dances on TikTok. I am alone in his room when a text from her appears. "Hey, call me when you're free" is all it says. I don't open it or anything because just as I'm about to, he walks in-damp hair, clean body, and boxers.

"Hey you," he says, draping a towel over the wooden chair at his desk.

"Hey me," I say back, hugging my phone to my chest. I closely observe his every movement. His hands find their place on either side of my head as he leans over and down. I let him steal another kiss. If you could call it that. It's like a little peck. And then he leaves me be, doing the shit he does before bed. But I just watch. Watch like I haven't seen him do it a million times before.

When he's done, he crawls into bed, his body settling between my legs, slightly holding his own weight up on his arms that lay alongside my torso. He smiles.

"How do you like those onions?" he asks, tauntingly.

"Shut the fuck up, Row," I say, making him laugh. And through his wet hair, I run my fingers. "You're such a dick." With a smile playing on his lips, his head drops into the valley of my - you know.

And a low rumbling hum sounds from the back of his throat as I continue to play in his hair. Then my phone rings again, interrupting his little head massage. I reach for it, and he looks to see too.

It's Lizzie. Again.

"A third time within the hour?" he asks, "Now that's desperate." He teases, but I don't think it's funny. Instead, I answer.

"Hey," I say, a grin playing on my lips.

"Hey," she sighs, her voice carrying a subtle warmth as if my voice unexpectedly has offered her a moment of relief.

"What's up?" I ask, my tone laced with playful curiosity, the mental image of her on the other end of the line making me smirk.

"Oh, you know, I'm just, um, thinking about you," she says, attempting nonchalance before quickly surrendering to the admission. A soft giggle escapes her, a clandestine acknowledgment of her playful intentions. "No, I'm just wondering if you're staying with me tonight."

"Uhh," I sigh with feigned contemplation, letting the dramatic pause linger, savoring the suspense. "I'm thinking about it, but if you're heading to bed, I can figure something out." I steal a glance at Row, who's subtly shifting in his bed, his fingers tracing my waistband. Yet, not even the tempting distraction can pull me entirely from our conversation.

"No, I'm not going to bed anytime soon. I can wait for you," she reassures.

"Oh, yeah?" I reply, my voice taking on a suggestive undertone, as if there's an unspoken understanding between us. "Well, since you're feeling patient tonight, maybe I should take my time getting there. Make you wait a little longer."

A soft, playful laugh dances through the phone, her response an invitation to continue. The feeling of his hands slowly makes their way lower, pulling my bottoms with them. My focus momentarily wavers as Row's touch demands attention, but I manage to keep the conversation light.