BASELINE ✸ Art Donaldson

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Five. Call Me Baby

2006

       TATUM HAD BEEN SPENDING HER MORNING IN ART'S DORM ROOM WEARING HIS SHIRT.

As of current, she was tracing the red-painted tips of her nails against the lines drawn into the palm of Art's hand. He watched her intently, finding entertainment in the way she carefully caressed his hand.

"Where'd you get this scar?" she asks him softly, her thumb lingering over the tiny scar at the bottom of his hand.

He hums, regaining focus on reality and not just on the faint freckles on his girlfriend's nose. "Oh, I got angry once during a match freshman year."

Before we were friends, he doesn't say but is true.

"I, uh, slammed the racket into the court and the racket went into my hand."

Tatum's big brown eyes met Art's and her lips curled at the story. "Why haven't I ever heard that story?"

He shrugs, a smile of his own forming on his face. "There's a lot you don't know about me."

"Really?" Tatum and Art told each other everything there was to know -- or at least Tatum thought they did.

He nods, his grin growing.

Tatum turns her attention back to the crevices of Art's hand and around the silver ring he always wore on his index finger.  She allowed her thoughts to drift and they returned to sitting in silence.

Art watched Tatum watch his hand.

He found himself wondering how someone so intense on that court could be so calm behind closed doors like this. She was a fucking maneater when she was hitting a ball with a racket but here, in his lap, she was like an angel on earth. A product of unearthly beauty.

"You're staring." She muses, containing her smile by tucking her bottom lip in between her front row of teeth.

He nods, humming in agreement as he gently moves a fallen strand of hair off of her forehead. "I am."

Tatum's smile becomes more permanent as she keeps exploring his big hand but Art's thoughts grow more challenged the more he looks at her.

"Patrick and Tashi slept together." His gaze is no longer on Tatum, but rather on the wall in front of them and all Tatum can make out is the sharpness of Art's jaw.

It's random--and takes Tatum almost entirely by surprise. The gentle strokes of Art's free hand against the top of her head begins to slow and she no longer is laying in his lap. Instead, she's almost eye-level with him as they sit at the edge of his twin bed.

"no shit?"

Art's gaze averts to his now empty lap and Tatum watches as his Adam's apple bobs. "Apparently."

Tatum isn't sure how she's supposed to react, or why he brought it up, but it brings an unsettling feeling to her stomach. "You seem upset about it."

He shakes his head, eyes suddenly gone defensive. "What? I'm not."

He's lying and it's obvious just given his defensive mechanisms.

The blonde almost laughs. "It's okay if you are."

Art bites down on his bottom lip, eyelids narrowing as analyzes her features -- trying to figure out whether or not this is some sort of trap.

It isn't.

"I don't care who you sleep with, Art." She reminds him, tucking a single piece of hair behind her ear, giving him that backhanded smile.

He looks as if he doesn't believe her.

Tatum gives a coy smile and Art's brows furrow with confusion.

"Does it really not bother you?"

"no!" Tatum laughs, telling entirely the truth. "Would it bother you if I slept with someone else?"

He wipes his lips with his hand, thinking. He's now the one to laugh. It's breathy but apparent.  "Honestly, yeah."

Tatum shifts her body weight onto her wrists as she leans back into the wall. "Why?"

He shrugs, looking anywhere but her eyes as he scrambles for a cover-up. But he doesn't. "Because you're my... girlfriend."

Tatum's face contorts into something of utter bliss. Her lips part with a million-dollar-smile and her brows raise in amusement. "Is that what I am now?"

His tongue swipes across his bottom lip, wettening it. "If you want to be, yeah."

She crawls over to him and leans in close. Her lips hover over his but she doesn't quite kiss him. not yet. She just entraps him with her arms on either side of him, propping herself up as her hair tickles the bareness of his scarred shoulder. She smiles a final time. "Does this mean I can't keep sleeping with Jack from Harvard?"

"You're evil." Art shakes his head, a breathy laugh leaving his mouth as he bites the small of her cheek playfully, arms wrapping tight around her before ultimately closing the space between them and kissing her finally.

She smiles into the kiss, her hands cupping his cheeks as she straddled his hips.

He was kissing her with hunger — passion. He reached up for more and their tongues tussled with one another, both trying to dominate the other but Tatum was the obvious winner. She pushed him into the pillows, her body pressed against his as their kisses grew quicker, sloppier.

It was clear in his kiss that he wanted more. As if this wasn't enough — as if nothing would ever be enough until he had all of her and then some.

"What, me officially being your girlfriend makes you horny now?" She teased, beginning to pepper faint lipstick marks down his neck.

He readjusted himself beneath her, giving her easier access to having him. His head tilted back into the pillows, letting her do whatever the hell she pleases. "Pretty sure it's just you."

Tatum pulls her shirt off over her head and onto the floor before continuing her trail of kisses up his neck with a smile rimmed by smeared lipstick.

She can feel him beneath the crook of his jeans and she grinds just the slightest amount over that ache she knows he feels, her mouth hovering over his wet, swollen lips. Taking in every muffled groan he tries so hard to keep in. Until finally, she continues kissing him — minus the friction.

His fingers tighten, digging into the skin of her hips as he pulls away. "Why are you such a tease?"

She smiles. "Isn't that what you wanted, baby?"