Jason
Laurel wraps her arms tighter around her body like she’s cold, so I reach across the couch and grab the blanket draped over the back of it to cover her up.
I pulled a fast one halfway through the documentary The White Helmets. I asked Laurel if she had any popcorn, and once I made it, I poured it into one bowl, which meant I had to sit next to her on the couch to share it.
She eyed me suspiciously for a few seconds, but then she made room for me and relaxed. Yeah, I’m like a damn teenage boy.
Now, she’s asleep, and I’ve been distracted by the ability to get a closer look at her. She’s fucking gorgeous, and I can’t understand how she doesn’t see it.
Her insecure mannerisms and modesty give it away. When others are present, it’s as if Laurel wishes she was a turtle and could retreat inside her shell.
She fidgets with her hair like she’s ashamed of it and often turns her face away, not grasping how enjoyable it is for others to stare at her.
The only reason Dan the Douche isn’t dating her is because he’s probably realized Laurel’s not going to put out unless she’s in a committed relationship.
At least, I suspect that’s how she feels and is the reason why the grunge singer is behaving like an idiot. I guess I have no room to judge him, though.
It’s taken me over three years to trust that I could treat Laurel right. I’ve mostly admired the sexy librarian from afar while wishing I could be a better guy and date her.
Seeing Colton treat my sister golden is one of the reasons I’m ready to give it a shot. He was able to stop playing the field, so maybe there’s hope for me yet.
I want to be with someone I can have intelligent conversations with. I’m sick of sleeping around, trying to fill a void I’ve had for years.
It never works. I always find myself back in that miserable place, recalling how awful I treated a girl I liked in high school.
I fell hard and fast for Kayla Gentry, even taking her virginity, but she was considered a nerd, and my friends rode me about it until I dumped her.
I’ll never forgive myself for what happened to her afterward, but Colton forced me to talk about it over the summer. That’s when I realized I needed to put the past behind me and try to have a relationship again.
I want to do it right this time … with Laurel. That’s the reason I went to the library last Friday night to talk to her, but I panicked and was an asshole.
Once she reacted coldly, I started doubting myself and fell right back into my old ways. That’s why she found me partaking in a threesome the very next day.
Yeah, it was physically enjoyable, but it meant nothing more to me, and now I’m worried Laurel won’t see past it.
I might’ve fucked this up before it even began. Exhaling a frustrated breath, I graze my knuckles along her cheek.
Her phone starts vibrating on the table with a call, so I grab it to silence it, and I can’t help but read what’s on the screen.
Damn, the contact name is the Atlanta Department of Corrections. Who’s calling her from there? Maybe this explains her often grumpy disposition.
Setting her phone down, I tuck the blanket around her tighter, but she turns her body toward me. I’m even more surprised when she wraps her arms around my waist and presses her head against my chest.
“It was the jail, right?” she asks softly.
I tense up. Shit. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want it to wake you.”
“That was my father. Every weekend he calls to grovel, but I don’t answer it.”
“Can I ask what landed him in there?”
“Something that ruined my family and future.” She brings her hand up to my chest and presses it against my pounding heart. “We shouldn’t be this close, you and me, but it’s nice.”
“Yeah, it is.”
“Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m not cut out for casual sex and definitely not threesomes.”
Unable to resist, I press my lips to her warm curls.
“I wouldn’t use or share you, Laurel. You deserve better than that, and don’t think for a second I don’t know it.”
Lifting her head, she stares into my eyes. Her hands squeeze the waist of my t-shirt as she sweeps her tongue over her bottom lip just enough for me to know what she wants.
This is happening sooner than I expected, and I’m worried one wrong move could fuck it up. Slowly lowering my head, I press my lips against hers and leave them there. I need one fucking taste.
And that’s what it is...
One. Remarkable. Taste.
Reluctantly, I pull my mouth away, and she stares up at me with longing. Damn, I want to kiss her again. I need more.
In only seconds, Laurel’s eyes grow round, and she bolts off the couch, wrapping the blanket around her body, wishing to be a turtle again.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I mean, I guess I wasn’t thinking. I was feeling, and I can’t afford to do that.
“You’re my roommate, and I need a roommate to afford this place. You moved in only hours ago, and I’m…” She rubs her forehead, finally stopping for a breath. “Oh, my god, you’re nice to me for five seconds, and I’m crawling in your lap, all needy and shit. I’m so sorry.”
She darts from the room, the blanket blowing in the wind behind her, and I managed to fuck this up without even trying.