I stay up long after she’s fallen asleep against me. The ends of her hair are still wet, clinging to my chest, arm, and the top of the bedspread, making everything damp. That isn’t what is keeping me awake.

I think about the open invitation to sex she offered and, more importantly, my rejection. Prynne certainly isn’t the first virgin I’ve been with, and while I prefer a more experienced partner, I have no qualms when it comes to deflowering.

It’s the secrets that still linger between us.

I told her about what happened at Princeton, but I have yet to tell her about Mr. XO. I could have spilled it at any point tonight, but I held back. The Princeton incident had been hanging over my head like that damn pendulum in the story by Edgar Allen Poe, creeping lower and lower the longer I continued to know her. It was a relief to finally get it off my chest.

So why one and not the other? Maybe it’s because one is clearing something up that wasn’t me, and the other would be revealing something that actually is me. Which only begs even more questions.

Namely, why does it matter?

I feel myself drifting off to sleep before I can formulate an answer in my head. There will be plenty of time to figure it out.

My eyes snap open at that thought. Plenty of time. As in more dates. As in a relationship. Something I’ve avoided ever since Princeton. The closest thing I’ve had to that was a former neighbor who became an ongoing friends-with-benefits situation, in between her fucking the sugar daddy who paid the rent on her apartment. It ended when his wife found out and she had to go back to being a kindergarten teacher (go figure) living in Inwood.

Again, I have to ask what makes Prynne different, certainly something more than a fuck buddy. I think about last week’s Sex on the Line show, and a soft chuckle escapes me as I remember the spaghetti caller. At least Prynne shares my particular kink. Maybe that’s the draw? I feel my mind become weary again. These are things I can ponder in the morning.

There will be plenty of time to figure it out. This time I let the thought lull me to sleep.

“I’m fine, really.”

The words draw me out of sleep. The light beyond my eyelids forces them to squint open. I blink at my surroundings, remembering where I am.

“No, no, Shiloh, the night, uh, just got away from us and I decided to, um, just spend the night at his place.”

Prynne is sitting in the desk chair, her knees up to her chest as she whispers into the phone, thinking I’m still asleep. I’m pleased to see that, instead of getting dressed, she’s wearing one of the robes provided by the hotel.

I remember Shiloh is her roommate. She’s the one with red hair who has this whole young Debra Messing thing going on. I sit up to lean on my elbow, smiling as I listen to Prynne lie into the phone, her back still to me.

She giggles. “No, nothing happened! I slept on the couch.” There’s a pause. “No, he didn’t make me sleep on the couch, I insisted, so stop it. He isn’t a jerk.”

I frown, getting a pretty good idea of what’s being said about me on the other end. I clear my throat to announce my departure from sleep mode. Prynne jumps, her legs unfolding onto the floor as she turns to look my way with surprise. A guilty smile touches her face.

“Gotta go,” she says quickly. There’s a pause during which she rolls her eyes at me. “Yes, yes, I will. Promise! Okay, bye.”

“Why are my ears burning?” I say in a scratchy growl.

“I forgot to call her last night. She was just worried.”

“And thinks I’m a jerk?”

“Of course not!” she says too quickly, then sighs. “I couldn’t tell her I stayed here. That would only open the door to too many questions.”

“Like what?” I tease.

“You know what,” she replies, raising an eyebrow my way. “Speaking of which, I have my own questions.”

“Oh boy. That sounds like a precursor to the need for coffee,” I say throwing the covers off to get out of bed. Thankfully, Prynne is still so unused to seeing me fully naked that she holds off with the questions until I finish walking over to the coffee machine and prepping a cup.

“Why did you say no last night?” she asks as the water begins to brew.

I turn around and lean against the counter next to the machine. Her eyes dart down to my dick, causing her cheeks to color before she brings them right back up to focus a little too intently on my face.

I pause before answering, crossing my arms over my chest as I give her a direct look. “I think we should get to know one another better.”

I can tell by the way she quickly averts her eyes that she knows exactly what I mean.

The ball’s in your court, Prynne.

I continue to watch her, waiting to see what she’ll volley back at me. Will it be the thing she’s holding back or a shift in topic?

“Do you think I should shave down there? Is that your preference?” she asks, obviously going with the latter.

I laugh in surprise at what she’s chosen as a diversion. “Is that why you think I said no last night?”

She brings her eyes back to me in surprise. “No. Of course not. That’s not why I asked.”

“Good, because it isn’t. Any man who passes on sex because of something stupid like that is either an idiot or a eunuch. But to answer your question, I don’t have a preference,” I gaze out the window with a grin. “After all, diversity is the spice of life.”

“Are you speaking with regard to multiple women or one woman changing things up every so often?” she asks in a testy voice.

I bring my eyes back to her and grin even wider. “Yes?”

She stares hard at me for a moment before breaking out in a laugh. “I guess I left the door wide open for that one.”

I walk over to her, ignoring the way her eyes grow wider at the image of my swinging dick.

“Hey,” I say, waiting for her to pull her eyes away from it. “There’s only one woman I want to change it up for me these days, you got it, kiddo?”

She smiles with pleasure and gives me a nod and a timid “got it.”

“Good,” I say, walking back to the counter where the coffee is brewing. “I should also warn you against shaving if you do plan on, uh, changing things up every so often. Razor burn is not a fun thing. Waxing is the way to go. Not that I have a preference, mind you.”

The machine signals that the coffee is ready and I fix both of us a cup.

“You just really like being naked, don’t you?” she remarks, her eyes briefly darting to my dick again as I walk over to hand her a cup.

“You should try it more often,” I say, my own eyes drifting down to the robe she has on. “It’s quite liberating.”

“Actually,” she says with a sigh, “I should probably get back home. Better to face the fire sooner rather than later.”

“Just make sure you remind your roommate that I’m not a jerk.”

Her eyes come back to me with a smug smile and she sips her coffee. “Maybe.”

“What would change that to a ‘yes, Rhys’?” I ask, lowering my voice so it sounds more demanding.

“Do I get my underwear back? I actually really like them.”

I wait a moment before answering, looking at her over the rim of my coffee as I take a sip. “I actually really like them too. So I think I’ll keep them.”

“You’re sending me home with no underwear?” she complains.

“You seemed to enjoy it last night,” I reply with a smile.

Prynne purses her lips and the color comes to her cheeks as our adventures in the car no doubt pierce her memories. I love that she’s still in the fresh, non-jaded stage of this. Maybe it’s a good thing that she still has the robe on. It gives my imagination something to play with.

“Don’t worry, didn’t I promise to treat them well?”

She wrinkles her brow at me as she smiles over her coffee. “So you’re sending me home panty-less and you expect my roommate not to think you’re a jerk?”

“I’m more curious to know just how this roommate of yours would know you are sans panties,” I say, a seductive grin coming to my face. “Tell me more.”

She laughs and rolls her eyes, then sets the coffee down. “I’m going to get dressed, you perv.”

I catch her arm as she passes by to collect her clothes near the tub. My face is serious as I say, “Next weekend.”

Prynne stares at me, her eyes widening slightly as she reads in that request everything that I want her to. She sucks her bottom lip into her mouth, no doubt nibbling away at it but nods with understanding. I let her go.

I no longer care about her secrets or mine. Perhaps it’s even better this way. I’m operating solely on faith that whatever it is she isn’t telling me is still worth the effort of making this thing work. I’m hoping she’ll do the same for me.

Next weekend it is, Prynne.