I Volunteer | Jack Schlossberg | Friends to lovers

...To lovers

Thirty minutes later, she heard a loud knock at her door. She quickly assessed her reflection in the mirror, but there wasn't much she could do to fix her wild ponytail and XXL t-shirt combo.

When she pulled open the door, Jack was standing there, his forearm resting on the doorframe, looking down at the floor. He looked like he'd been hit by a train. As soon as he noticed she had answered, he looked up at her to reveal bloodshot eyes and a tumbleweed of hair on top of his head.

"How dare you," he said, stepping toward her into the apartment, reaching behind her head and pulling her lips to his. Her mouth opened to his, and their tongues touched for a brief moment before he pulled her back gently by her hair. "How dare you give up on that conversation, the conversation that I've been waiting two years to have." He leaned back in, kissing her harder and faster this time.

Before she could assess the situation, his hands were everywhere—on her back, over her chest, on her ass, and then through her hair, using it to tilt her face upward so that she was looking up at him.

"Do you have a..." he started, but she cut him off with an immediate head nod. Seconds later she heard the sound of foil rip, felt the coolness of her sheets graze her back, felt his hands lift her shirt over her head, heard his zipper slide down, and then with a thrust he was there. His skin was warm against hers, and she relished in the comfort of his body on hers.

"Oh god," he said, low and breathy. "Oh god you feel so good." He had each arm placed on either side of her, and she could see the veins straining in his forearms; each muscle moving and flexing as he shifted. "Why do you feel so fucking good?" With each word, she melted a little more, making it easier for him to move deeper.

He lowered himself onto his elbows and focused all of his energy on his thrusts. She'd never known it could feel like this—forceful, yet sweet. When he hit that spot, she started to see flashes of color in her peripheral vision as a wave of pleasure built up inside of her. "Jack, I'm going to..."

"Shhh, just feel it. Let's feel it together." Seconds later they were both tensing, falling into each other, their hot breath mixing as they exhaled over and over.

He laid his head next to hers, and rolled onto his side to face her. With his hand, he pushed her hair back out of her face, and grinned. "Only took you two years," he smiled a deep, dimply smile.

"If I'd known it would feel like that, I would've said something way sooner," she joked, but his smile faded and she immediately felt sick with embarrassment. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No, no, it's not that. I just wish you'd told me how you felt sooner. I wish you had felt like you could tell me."

"It's not that I didn't think I could, or that I didn't want to. There was just always something in the way. And you and me... I just wanted it to be perfect."

"You're right, it is you and me, so it was always going to be perfect." He cupped her chin with his hand and placed a slow, deep kiss on her lips.

They must have fallen asleep, because the next thing Annie saw was sunlight spilling through her blinds. As she sat up, Jack started to stir, looking at his watch before he even glanced at her.

"Holy shit," he said, jumping up and grabbing his black jeans off of the floor. "I did not mean to stay all night."

"Is there anything I can do?" Annie asked, watching him frantically scroll through his phone.

"No, I just have to leave right now." He pulled his shirt and sweatshirt on over his head. "I have breakfast with my parents and Courtney..." he started.

"Wait, Courtney?" Annie interrupted, her tone sharp with annoyance.

"Yes, Annie. She didn't just magically disappear overnight." He was still looking at his phone.

"So you're just going to sleep with me, and then turn around and have breakfast with her?"

"What am I supposed to do?" He put his phone in his pocket and ran his fingers through his hair, visibly stressed. "She's still here, I can't do anything about that." Next he slid on his shoes. "But she's probably already either suspicious or furious that I never came home last night."

Tears welled up in her eyes. She suddenly felt vulnerable and exposed, so she used the sheets on her bed to cover herself more—this was not how she pictured their first "morning after" together.

"Well by all means, don't let your side piece stop you from having a lovely, romantic breakfast with your girlfriend." She turned her head to the side so he couldn't see the emotion on her face.

"Please don't be that way," he sighed, looking down at her. She kept her gaze away from him. "Fine, your choice," he said, sounding defeated. He kneeled down on the floor next to her bed and moved his head around until he finally made eye contact with her. "We'll talk about it later, okay?"

"Okay," she said softly and defeatedly. And then he was out the door.