18

Chapter Three: Lust

I woke up the next morning, a Saturday, to the sound of birds outside. I sigh, and look at the clock. 7:32. I stretch out, and check my phone. I have a text from a random number.

"Hey, is this rusty?" The text read, and I replied to the strange message.

"Yeah, who is this?" I asked back. A few minutes passed. Just enough time to brush my hair and teeth. Then the phone vibrated, the sound of Sam Tsui filling the room. I opened the text, and my heart stopped.

"Anthony. Whts up?" He asked. I dropped my toothbrush into the sink, and froze. 'How'd he get my number?' I thought to myself, before replying again.

"Not much, kinda bored. Saturday at 7 am alone is NOT what I call fun..." I sent the text, and ran to my bedroom. I hopped onto my bed, and stared at my phone.

"Alone, huh? Wanna come over or somthing? Or i could come over." Anthony replied, my phone not even having enough time to sound. I stared at the screen. If I have Anthony over, he could be using me to get to Jordan. Then again, Jordan isn't home, he's at football practice. But if I go there, something might happen that I don't want to happen. Or do I want it to happen? Oh, decisions, decisions!

"You could come over, I guess. Nobody else is here, so its going to be quiet and boring..." I said, and closed my phone. I almost squealed in joy. The phone buzzed, and I opened it quickly.

"Sure. Whr do u live?" He replied. I was already running to the bathroom with my best clothes and cologne. My razor was in hand.

"Cazenovia. How long about do you think?" I asked, starting the water in the shower.

"An hour, maybe. Dpnds on trafic." He replied.

"Perfect."

I shaved in the shower, my legs feeling smooth as ever. I made extra careful not to cut myself or miss anywhere, and my long, tan legs were feeling perfect. I washed my hair, and then ran to my bedroom, letting the water drain from the shower. I dressed in my bedroom, slipping on some striped blue and grey Hollister boxer-briefs, and then rubbing Strawberry lotion into my hairless, smooth legs. I then picked out a nice shirt, a long sleeve grey v-neck from Aéropostale, and a striped, grey and navy cardigan from Target. Then I slid on my best pair of dark-wash skinny jeans, and put on some grey socks. Then I sprayed myself with Bod Body Heat spray, and then heard a knock on the door. My cat meowed, and I stroked it's back before running down stairs.

I opened the door to see Anthony standing there, his curly chestnut hair brushed, his hands in the pockets of his black, stinger-tight skinny jeans, his short-sleeve graphic tee wrinkling over his perfect frame.

"Hey," He said, his voice silky and pleasant, music to my ears.

Yup, I wanted him. Badly.

"Hey," I replied quietly, ushering him into the hallway. He looked around a bit, before taking off his converse shoes. He left them next to all of the shoes in the room. I watched him bend over, and watched his shirt slide up across his smooth back. I nearly passed out. I watched him stand again, and then he looked at me.

"So..." He said, looking at the ground. I felt like a bad host.

"Oh, um. We can hang out in my bedroom if you want."

"Heading up to bed together already? Wow, you work fast..." He said, teasing me as he looked up. I quickly stared down at the ground, feeling my face turn crimson.

"Oh, um, that's not what I meant." I said, wrapping my arms around myself.

"I'm kidding, Rusty. That's not what I meant either. We can chill in your room if you want." He said, and I looked up, his chocolate gaze meeting my hazel one.