Shy (18+)

kiss

I opened the door to my room with the enthusiasm of a zombie. Bonnie jumped up immediately from her bed to scream in my face. "Where the hell have you been! I've been worried out of my mind! I looked for you everywhere at the party, people said they saw you head towards the dorms but you weren't here! I've been blowing up your phone, I was getting ready to call campus security!"

"Please don't yell. My head is killing me." I groaned and collapsed onto my tangled sheets. "I spent the night at ... at a guy's house."

"No. Way." She gasped. "How drunk were you! Did he take advantage of you? I never should have left your side at the party but -"

"No it's okay . . . We just slept. It was nice." I lied.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. He made me breakfast and dropped me off just now."

"You're kidding! Well, that's really sweet. I'm so glad you're okay." She collapsed on top of me, giving my back a tight squeeze. "Did you get his number? What's his name?"

"Uhhh ... to be honest I don't know." How strange. He knew the most personal thing about me - I had slept in his bed and I didn't even know his first name.

She laughed. "Been there. At least he was a gentleman."

"Yeah. He really was."

I didn't really have a class at 11:30. I did however have a class with Mr. Auclair at 1:00. I had to skip it. There was no way I could face him. I rolled around in bed restlessly, then decided to take a shower.

The hot water was scalding but I hardly noticed it, too consumed with thoughts of him.

"Would you rather I say you gave me some very ungentlemanly ideas?"

I wondered what that could possibly mean. He must have realized by now that I was deeply and embarrassingly into him - he must find it hilarious.

Or. . . well, what if he was flirting with me? What if he wanted to unzip my skirt last night, peel off my sweater and dress me in one of his shirts? I started breathing heavily, petting my breasts underneath the water. What if he leaned down to kiss my neck, his rough hands sliding up my legs to my panties. How would it feel if he touched me there -

I squeezed my thighs together, feeling like I was crossing a line I shouldn't. Getting off to your college professor? Highly inappropriate.

But It's not like he'd ever know.

I remembered the fire glinting in his eyes. He would be able to tell somehow.

I shook my head and turned off the water. I have to skip his class. I have to skip his class.

I blow dried my hair, tying half of it in the back with a pink ribbon, applying blush and lipstick. Why was I getting dressed then?

Why did it feel like I was dressing for him?

I rolled on my thigh high socks, buttoned my navy pleated skirt and slipped on a cropped cream colored sweater. I normally dressed this way, but somehow today I felt a little naughty. Maybe it was because this was my shortest skirt. Maybe it was because you could see the lace tops of my socks just underneath the hem. Maybe because my white sweater was just translucent enough to glimpse a hint of my satin pink bra peeking out from underneath the thin fabric of my sweater.

I grabbed my bag, trying to ignore my pounding heart. I'd taken so long to get ready, it was certain I'd be a few minutes late and that was almost enough to make me want to stay home and hide under my sheets.

But I wanted to see him again.

I was addicted to his presence - despite the embarrassment I felt. Something else was much stronger than that. The desire to feel his eyes on me.