For the second time in about ten minutes, I’m tempted to run upstairs to my room, but I stay and give Fallon an honest answer because there’s something about this woman that lays me fucking bare every time I’m in a room with her. It’s damn near impossible to lie to her. I don’t even want to make a joke and laugh it off because I know she’ll see through my bullshit. She always does.
If I’m the fun one, I ask her, signing the words,then why was that party a fucking disaster?
Fallon frowns, like my question confuses her.That party was fun until the very end. And a malfunctioning mechanical bull is not your fault.
I shrug.Agree to disagree on that.
Fine, she concedes,but you haven’t been yourself for weeks, way before the party.
Once again, I find myself being honest with Fallon when I really should probably just shut up.This season isn’t going the way I thought it would,I confess. You live here, so you know we all don’t get along. And when I try to keep the peace, I feel like I’m betraying my teammates. But nursing old grudges isn’t good for the team. I want to be a leader, but instead I’m stuck in the fucking middle, and I don’t have a clue what to do about it.
It probably didn’t help that I moved in here just a few weeks into the semester.
She’s right, but I still feel like a dick about it.It was unexpected, but I definitely could have handled it better.
Fallon nods, acknowledging my words as I start cleaning up my mess.Things are getting better, right? I’m not saying we’re besties or anything. But you can make me a grilled cheese anytime you want. How’s that?
The look on her face is so hopeful and pure that there’s no way I can tell her she’s wrong. Besides, things are better between us, and I’ll just keep quiet about the fact that I can’t stop fantasizing about her. Still, I can’t resist teasing her.Admit it. You love my grilled cheese.
Her lips twist into a smile.I don’t hate it. But don’t go fishing for compliments. That’s all you’re getting out of me.
Then I’ll take it and be grateful, I say before sticking our empty plates in the dishwasher. In reality, I wish I could turn back the clock to the night of the party where Fallon and I first met. I’d do so many things differently. But that’s impossible, so a sort-of friendship is the next best thing.
I finish cleaning up the kitchen and Fallon goes back to looking at her phone. I’m about to make an excuse for heading up to my room because I can’t just stand here and stare at her all day, but before I can fabricate a lie about having to study for a test, she begins talking again.
You can cook, she says, her hands forming the words..
Uh, yeah, I agree, my eyes narrowing.We already established that, I sign, gesturing to the counter that’s clear now, but was littered with ingredients minutes ago.
Fallon rolls her eyes like I’m trying her patience. It’s a look she’s given me before.I mean, that’s something you could do for the team. At least the ones who live here, anyway.
You want me to make them grilled cheese? It is a superiorlunch food, but I’m not convinced it’s going to solve all our problems.
Again with the eyeroll.The menu is up to you, Chef Jablonski, but I think cooking a meal for everyone might be good for team bonding. When Whit lived here with my brother and their friends, he used to cook weekly family dinners, and no one ever wanted to miss them. You wouldn’t have to cook each week, though. People could sign up for slots so everyone could be involved. It’s just an idea.
She’s absolutely right.You’re a genius, I sign before heading for the doorway. She’s giving me a thousand-watt smile, and I need to go upstairs before I do something stupid like loop my hand around her neck and kiss her breathless.
Once I’m in my room, I flop down on my bed and reach for my laptop. I’m half-hard, but I can ignore the growing bulge in my pants. That will have to wait. I’m a college student first, and a lusty camboy second. Since nothing kills a boner faster than reading about dead white guys and their thoughts on the afterlife, studying is the distraction I need right now.
I pull up the reading my professor assigned and start taking notes on the differences between Nietzsche and Jacobi’s philosophies, but it doesn’t hold my attention.
The faint scent of peaches still clings to the air, or maybe it’s just stuck in my head. Either way, I’m fucking intoxicated by Fallon Zabek and there’s no damn cure for my addiction. I’ve wanted her since the moment I saw her, and that never waned, even when I found out just how off-limits she was.
I’ve never been the type of guy to moon over what I can’t have though, so the minute I found out she was Booker’s sister and knew he’d kill me for hooking up with her, I put Fallon firmly in the fantasy category and went on with my life. Yeah, I love to tease her when I get the chance, andneedling Booker about how hot his sister is will probably never get old, but the fact that Fallon couldn’t stand me was always the barrier I needed to keep her firmly in the Not Ever Going to Fucking Happen column.
Living with her has tested that boundary for sure, but something shifted today. Now that she’s thrown a couple genuine smiles my way? My head still knows the score, but my dick hasn’t gotten the memo. He was too busy noticing the way her sports bra cradled her generous tits, the way the deep line of her cleavage seemed to point directly to the heavenly space between her thighs.
Fuck. Me.
I’m hard as a rock and all we did was share a damn sandwich.
There’s no way I’m getting any studying done until I take care of business.
Unable to stop myself, I set my computer on my nightstand and run the base of my palm over my hardening cock. It twitches under the slight pressure, so I apply more. What I should do is move over to the sofa in the corner of my room, flip on the ring light, set up my phone, strip down, and make the most of the situation. I haven’t posted anything in forever and even though I’m not doing it for the views, my in-box is already flooded with people asking where I’ve been and wanting to know when my next video will be up.
So, as crazy as it seems, the sensible thing would be to jack off in front of the camera. There’s no shortage to the fantasy footage of Fallon in my brain and I have no doubt I could tease and edge myself long enough to make a ten-minute post that would satisfy every one of my subscribers.
But it just feels wrong.
