Seven Years Ago
“Can’t you just stick it in and grunt a few times?”
Beer erupts out of Theo’s mouth like a geyser, spattering all over my tank top, soaking through to my braless boobs. I’d like to say this kind of thing never happens to me but it happens rather often when you are best friends with an athlete. Athletes love to project shit from their mouths, like a rite of passage or something. Spit. Beer. Sunflower seeds. You name it.
Swiping away the remnants of foam, I scold him. “Theo, what have I said about—” Shit, is he choking?
I panic as violent coughs wrack his extremely toned chest. For God’s sake, I need him alive!
Reaching out, I do the only thing I can think of—I raise his arm like a little kid. Those deep, navy-stained eyes grow wide as he stares at me in horror. It’s clear he fears for his life. Or, he’s concerned the University of Georgia made a mistake accepting my med school application this fall. I don’t think arm raising is considered the proper medical procedure for strangling.
After a tense few seconds, he barks out a few more coughs and pulls his arm from mine. Since the immediate threat of death has lessened, I let him go, keeping my trained medical eye on his coloring. Just kidding, I wanna be prepared, so I move to the other end of the couch, out of the way in case he needs to hack something up.
He blinks, silently judging me from his corner of the sofa in the small two-bedroom apartment we’ve shared all four years of college. I’m braced for anything. A lecture?A pillow to the face? Hey, you never know in this friendship, we’re some violent motherfuckers. Instead, he goes the mature route, clearing his throat one last time before cocking his left brow up in amusement.
“No, Anniston. I cannot just stick it in and grunt as you so eloquently requested. That’s not how it works.”
Eh. It never hurts to ask. You never know what kind of truths you can uncover if you ask the right question.
“What about that whole just-the-tip deal, huh? I mean, that’s a thing, right? Obviously, I don’t know from experience, but I’ve watched enough porn.”
His lips tip up at the corners. I can tell he’s about to pop off some smart-ass comment about my lack of knowledge in this department.
“Anniston McCallister, apart from what you may think,Fifty Shades of Greyis not considered porn.”
“Ok, maybe it isn’t, but you can’t tell me at all those frat parties we go to, guys are giving girls the full making love treatment. No, they are sticking in their peckers midway with a few quick pumps in a filthy bathroom before coming their little hearts out. It doesn’t work that way, my ass…”
Yeah, I know how shit goes down. Don’t even try and play me, Von Bremen.
The stupid grin on his face nearly breaks my stride. He’s enjoying my little rant. And he probably likes that I said “peckers.” Either way, his cute little smile will not distract me from my mission.
I need a Plan B just in case this conversation goes absolutely nowhere. And that’s a distinct possibility at the moment. Plan B could be… it doesn’t even matter because I am determined to get Von Bremen’s compliance with Plan A. I’m not saying I will rape the poor guy, but I would be willing to tie him down a little.
Guys like kink, right?
Regardless, I’m not taking no for an answer.
If he can bang the whole student body, he can bang me.
It’s not like I’m asking for a deep conversation as we take a long, romantic stroll on the beach. I’m not even asking him to buy me dinner. Wait, that’s not true. We already planned on grabbing dinner, and it’s his turn to pay. He’s not weaseling out of that one.
“I’m sure you can find a guy willing to fulfill—” he eyes my wet shirt, paying close attention to the damp spot right below my nipple, “your needs. Why me?”
His half-ass rejection stings. Fuck you, hormones. Okay, so maybe it can’t all be blamed on hormones. I might have ulterior motives.
I amcertain I’ve loved Theo Von Bremen since middle school. His quick wit and asshole personality appealed to me like chocolate and sweatpants on a Friday night. We became fast friends, but anything further was too complicated.
So, I took a back seat and cherished being his friend. He dated. I dated. He fucked. I didn’t.
I leap off the couch, my arms stretched wide, ready to plead my case. “It’s not like I haven’t given this a lot of thought, I have!” My voice is an octave higher than normal. “I wanted to fall in love, wanted my boyfriend to take me on a blanket under the stars. I’ve had the whole scene planned out since I was old enough to realize what an orgasm was. But the reality is, it didn’t happen for me.”
“Anniston.”
I hold my palms up to silence him so I can get this last bit out. “Don’t get me wrong, I had offers; I’m not a total shrew. But I didn’t want to give it up to some random guy on a quick drunken poke. I have standards.”
Standards that no man measures up to, not even Theodore Von Bremen. But Von Bremen and I share a strange kind of love, and it will mean something if he’s the one to take my virginity. Well, unless it fucks up our relationship and costs me my one and only close friend.
I’m desperate, though! I don’t want to go off to med school a virgin.
