When I woke up, a faint fuzzy ache throbbed behind my eyes. Still sleeping peacefully, Ryan’s arms were wrapped around me. I could have laid there forever snuggled in his arms, but in a flash, last night’s events flew into my mind.

Omigod!

I cringed thinking about how I’d thrown myself at him. A muddled memory of me pawing at him when he got out of the shower horrified me. I wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

But, before I could do that, I needed to carefully extract myself from Ryan’s cozy warm arms before he woke up, or else I’d have to face him. I was never going to live my blatant crazed attempt to kiss him last night down.

Date night fail. How humiliating.

I’d worked so hard to entice Ryan, and I ruined everything by getting stupidly drunk. Who would have guessed that red wine and coke would be so was refreshingly delicious? They called that Jesus juice in Argentina but it was really the nectar of the devil!

Who was I kidding? It was all my fault I’d acted like a stupid drunk girl. Ryan probably thought I was an immature Freshman that couldn’t handle her alcohol.

Admittedly, Ryan had been the perfect gentleman. If he was the bad boy everyone said he was, wouldn’t a player have just left me in my drunken state and headed out to the party to find another girl to hook up with?

He could have used my drunk girl antics to his advantage or tossed me out in the cold, but he hadn’t. He had cooked me dinner and watched House episodes with me on a Friday night.

A Friday night!

If the stories and rumors about Ryan were true, then I guessed he just wasn’t that way with me. He was kind, funny, a great cook, and a genuine gentleman, the opposite of an asshole player.

Carefully, I slid out from under Ryan's arms. As he stirred, I watched him in terror, hoping he would stay asleep. Ryan had been sweet last night, but my humiliation coursed through me.

I had to get out of there to shower, change my clothes, and devise a plan to figure out how I could regain my dignity after throwing myself at him like a groupie. Thankfully, after a few moments, Ryan’s breathing resumed a slow steady tempo. Slowly, I got up from the couch, careful to not disturb him again.

Grabbing my phone, I quickly ordered an Uber to pick me up to take me back to Boyd Hall. Before tiptoeing out of the living room, I looked down at Ryan's sleeping face. He had a cute sleepy grin.

How was I ever going to face him again? What if acting like an immature drunk girl had really turned him off?

Sighing, I openly gaped at his prominent cheekbones, brooding brow, and his soft looking lips. My phone buzzed, notifying me my Uber ride had arrived snapping me out of my fanciful trance. I took in one last look of his sleeping face, hoping I’d have another opportunity to kiss those irresistible lips soon.

On the ride to my dorm, a glumness began to bloom in my chest. I wondered if and when I’d see Ryan again, aside from running into him on campus or at Green Garden Greaux. Even with a gloomy feeling hanging over me, a smile spread across my lips.

I laughed to myself thinking about one of the House episodes last night when House went into the waiting room and diagnosed all the patients in one minute. Ryan knew all the diagnoses for each patient before House said them. He’d obviously seen the episode before, but he teased me that it was his first viewing and he was just good at diagnosing medical TV show ailments.

When I walked into my dorm room, my phone rang. It was Ryan.

I couldn’t believe he was calling me. “Hello,” I said into my phone.

“Kassie? Where are you?” Ryan’s voice sounded foggy with sleep.

Sitting on my bed, I explained, “I’m back at my dorm room.”

“Why did you leave? I was planning on making breakfast for you,” Ryan sounded genuinely disappointed.

“Really?”

Ryan laughed. “Yes! After last night, I’m going to make it my mission to be sure you eat.”

I giggled. Ryan wasn’t entirely put off by my drunken display last night. “You’re too sweet.”

“I’m coming to pick you up.” I could hear rustling in the background.

A boost of an energy shot through me. “I’m going to take a quick shower and change.”

“Okay. Twenty minutes enough time?”

“Plenty,” I replied.

Speedily, I showered and changed into something comfortable: a black and white striped slouched tee, dark blue skinny jeans, a coral pink oversize cable knit cardigan, and light grey oxfords. I’d slept in that short skater skirt all night. Today, comfort was squarely on my mind.

Ryan picked me up, smiling from ear to ear. All my worries of having to hang my head in shame for getting tipsy were for nothing.

“You’re in for a treat,” Ryan said licking his lips as he drove.

“I am?” I was actually starving and couldn’t wait for whatever Ryan had in store for me to eat.

“Yup. I’m defrosting authentic Argentinian breakfast pastries my mom sent me from Miami. We’ve got medialunas, facturas, and bizcochos.”

“Whatever those things are, the names alone sound delicious.”

Back at Ryan’s apartment, he sat me down at the kitchen table. He placed a coffee cup and saucer in front of me proudly. “This is a cafecito, Cuban coffee. I learned how to make these from growing up in Miami. It’s made with creamed sugar.”

I brought the cup to my lips and tasted the sweet coffee liquid. A delicious foamy cream floated on top. “This is the best coffee I’ve ever had!”

Ryan grinned. He rushed over to the counter and brought an assortment of pastries on a platter. “I heated these up for you.” He pointed at croissant shaped pastries. “These are medialunas.” I followed his finger as he pointed at a pile of rolls. “These are facturas.” He held up a flaky biscuit, and said, “These are bizcochos.” His eyebrows shot up. “Almost forgot!” He hurried back to the oven.

“These all look so good.” I didn’t know where to start.

Ryan hustled over with a knife and small bowl full of something that looked like light brown pudding. “I made dulce de leche. You can spread this on any of the pastries if you’d like.” He placed the bowl and knife in front of me as he smiled away. “Dig in.”

He sat across from me, grabbing a bizcocho and spreading dulce de leche on the biscuit. I followed his lead, taking a bizcocho and dolloping the thick cream between the biscuit halves. Ryan watched me as I took a bite.

I chewed in delight. “It’s so buttery and delicious, and the dulce de leche tastes incredible!”         

Ryan took a medialuna happily. “Don’t be shy. This is a typical Argentinian breakfast so my mom sends me this stuff all the time.”

Finishing off the bizcocho in one big bite, I went for a factura next, splitting the soft roll open to spread a generous amount of dulce de leche. The flaky roll melted in my mouth. “Everything tastes incredible, Ryan. Thank you.”

Ryan gazed at me and raised his hand to my face. “You have a bit of dulce de leche...” Softly, his thumb swiped the corner of my mouth. He brought his thumb to his lips and licked the sweet cream off it.

Before I knew what was happening, we lunged for each other. With our mouths colliding, our tongues touched and twirled. My hands roamed underneath Ryan’s t-shirt, feeling the muscles in his back. Ryan pulled away from me to take his shirt off while I peeled off my bulky cardigan. He lifted me up onto the counter and stepped back to look at me. “You’re so beautiful.”

His passionate gaze on me made my face burn hot, rendering me speechless. Ryan reached over and dipped his index finger in the dulce de leche. With gentle care, he smeared the cream gently on my lips before his tongue licked it all off.

The heat from my face spread throughout my body particularly between my legs, which now throbbed and tingled in excitement. Gently, Ryan lifted my shirt over my head. He stepped back again to look at me.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he whispered in a trance.

Perched up on the counter in just my lace pink bra as Ryan marveled at me, I felt like the most beautiful woman in the world. I reached behind me and unclasped my bra, letting my breasts spill out. Ryan pounced on me then taking my right nipple into his mouth while his fingers tweaked the other.

He pulled away and dipped his finger in the dulce de leche again. This time he smeared the cream on my sensitive nipples. Watching as he delicately licked the dulce de leche off my breasts, I gasped in pleasure delighted at the delicious sensation.

No one had ever sucked my nipples before. “That feels so good,” I murmured. Ryan’s lips pursed sucking harder, making me tingly all over. “No one’s ever kissed me there before. It feels so good,” I confessed.

Ryan brought his face to mine. “Really?”

I nodded shyly. Ryan kissed me softly. “We don’t have to do anything more, okay?”

Nodding again, I said, “Okay.”

He handed me my bra and shirt. “You wanna watch some TV? I think the House marathon might still be going.” He pulled his own shirt back on.

“Sure. Let’s see what other diagnoses you can make from the couch,” I giggled as I put my bra and shirt back on then Ryan helped me down off the counter.

He carried the platter of Argentinian pastries into the living room. “Oh. You just wait. I binged watched House episodes with my mom. I consider myself a couch certified physician.”

I followed him to the living room warmed that he hadn’t pushed me to go any further. Although I definitely wanted to explore more with Ryan, I was still a virgin. Ryan was fine taking it slow with me, making me doubt again that he was the big time player everyone warned me about.