Chapter Eleven

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Chapter Eleven


APOV

This was bad. 

So bad. 

All I thought about in the hours since I’d last seen Tyler was how much I wanted him to kiss me again, how much I wanted to feel his lips brush mine, and feel him take my lip between his, and his stubbly upper lip scratch against my lip, and run my cheek along the stubble on his, and… fuck. 

So bad. 

I could still feel it tingle in my lips, could still feel the warmth of his lips on mine if I closed my eyes, could still feel the heat from his breath on my face.  I could still feel his forehead pressed to mine and how much warmer the bed was with him sleeping next to me. 

I wondered if that was normal and figured I’d have to ask Jordan again.  She was rapidly becoming my link to the dating world and what was normal and what was not.  I was happy that she’d told me, so far, most of the shit I felt or thought was normal.  That had to count for something, mean something.  I wondered if it would be weird for me to ask him to sleep over again and just… sleep. 

That was probably not as normal. 

He was so patient.  His lips were so patient.  I don’t think he realized how much that meant to me.  And I knew he was holding himself back—I could feel it—but he hadn’t pushed anything yet, and I didn’t think he was going to.  

I had almost two hours to kill before I had to be at work and I couldn’t think of anything else.  And it was totally gonna fuck up my time on stage tonight.  I was just not in the right mindset.  I could normally focus on just… nothing.  When I was on stage I wasn’t Allison anymore; I became whoever I needed to be—whatever they wanted.  I wasn’t going to be able to do that thinking about Tyler kissing me all fucking night.  

I was edgy and completely distracted and tense, and all I really wanted to do was get off.  Maybe that’d make me stop thinking about Tyler and his goddamn lips.  

And… shit.  

I was edgy and distracted and wanted to get off, and Tyler was the fucking reason.  That wasn’t bad, I don’t think, it was just…  I’d never been restless over a guy before.  Of course, I hadn’t kissed any guys in two years, and before that it was policy that I didn’t kiss them.  

Fuck it.  I needed to get off.  

Whatever the reason Tyler was making me all anxious for, at least getting off would take the edge off, calm me down.  I shut my door and grabbed my vibrator from the nightstand drawer, kicking off my pants and underwear before lying on the bed.  

Usually I just grabbed the lube and the vibrator and I buzzed myself to coming.  I’d turn it on and run it over my clit before pushing it inside me and I’d get off in no time, take the edge off, and pick up the rest of my day.  Sometimes I’d use my fingers on my clit while I pushed the vibrator in and out, and it’d take longer to come, almost better that way.   I could just stop thinking and focus on the way it felt, and for a few minutes everything went away.  

I figured that this would go the same way.  

Only it started out completely different when I went for the lube and realized I didn’t need it; I was already wet, and that rarely happened.  It had to be Tyler’s kiss—or me thinking about Tyler’s kiss—didn’t it?  What else would make me wet?  I didn’t usually get usually turned on by specific things.  

I pushed the vibrator in, moaning at the first feel of the hum.  I loved the first sensation—the feeling of fullness, the way I could control the speed of entry, the way my clit tickled, and how my pussy tightened up.  Being turned on already made pushing it inside so much easier; almost like I wanted it more, like my body was more into the whole thing.  I couldn’t believe how much better the vibrator felt this way, how much more responsive my body was when I moved it inside of me slowly, how much different the sensations were, and how I could feel them at completely different points inside me—like I’d never felt them there before.  

And something happened that never had before: I started thinking about Tyler and the way he kissed me, and my pussy tightened, and my whole body tightened with it, and I was so close to coming, but I stopped myself.  I think part of me was scared.  It came on so fast and hard that I backed off, almost afraid to let it happen.  

But it felt so fucking good that I pulled the vibrator almost all the way out and pushed it back in, my fingers moved to my clit, and it was like the buildup never ended.  I just picked it up again and my body was ready to come right away.  So I didn’t stop it that time, I just let it happen, thinking about Tyler’s lips on mine and in other places, and coming was so powerful that I felt lightheaded.  

I was out of breath and all hot and sweaty, and Jesus fucking Christ, if that was just me and the vibrator, what would it be like with him?  

I lay there for a while, cooling down and feeling my heartbeat slow down with it, and tried to make sense of everything—my feelings and what that really meant.  I wasn’t stupid.  I knew that Tyler affected me, that I was attracted to him, and he obviously turned me on a whole fucking lot.  And that… feeling—the way I felt about him—it was… different.  New.  I’d never reacted to a guy like that before.  Jeremy had to work to get me aroused, make me come.  This was almost easy.  

It felt so good, and it made me feel… something else—like my mind and body were on the same page.  I didn’t really know what to call that.  

I liked it, though.  

~ ~ ~

He knocked on the door at exactly ten forty-five—halfway between the times we decided on.  I didn’t know why, but that made me smile for some reason.  

I opened the door and he had something behind his back, like he was hiding it.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”  He was smiling.  “So… I wanted to get you something to thank you.  And I racked my brain and I tried to get some idea from your room, and I dunno, this idea just came to me, and so I went with it and…”  

I was kind of scared shitless.  First, I didn’t get presents.  Second, what the fuck was he going to give me?  

And this was completely unnecessary because he was already taking me to dinner to thank me, and that was unnecessary, too.  

I never got presents.  What did you do with…  

He got me flowers.  He pulled a humongous, like, the biggest bunch of flowers I’d ever seen in my life from behind his back and held them out to me.  

I’m sure my mouth was open.  In fact, I know it was because I was trying to talk, trying to think of something to say, and there was no sound coming out.  I was so fucking shocked.  And I didn’t know what to do, so instead of doing anything, I just stood there, opening and closing my mouth and staring at all the colors of the flowers, and then looking at him in between.  

His eyebrows were up and he was just kind of staring at me, and I didn’t blame him, I mean…  I didn’t know what the fuck to do, and he didn’t either, and it was just all fucking…

I needed to say something.  Fucking soon.  

“I…” I started.  

I tried, I really did.  And then I kinda wanted to cry.  I just…  

It was too much.  He was so fucking nice, and he bought me flowers!  Flowers!  Real, live, not-plastic flowers!  No one had ever bought me flowers before.  Girls like me didn’t get flowers.  

I was seriously close to losing it.  I tried to take a few deep breaths because I think he thought he’d done something wrong.  I waved my hand a second, which I’m sure told him nothing, and just tried to calm the fuck down.

They were so pretty.  So many colors.  

I didn’t know anything about flowers.  I mean I knew roses and shit, but I had no idea what half of these were.  They weren’t just plain flowers, they were, like, exotic or something, and they were all arranged nice, and… the really big ones that were kinda star-shaped were my favorite—pink with darker pink spots on the inside and white on the outside with these delicate-looking things way at the middle.  

So many different colors.  

And they smelled so nice.   

I never knew flowers were really this pretty.  They always seemed so… stupid or something before.  Something that died in a few days and were expensive, like they had no value beyond just sitting somewhere, but when someone gave them to me and I was actually holding them… I wanted to keep them forever.  

“Hey,” he said quietly, his hand reaching out slowly.  I watched it like it was in slow motion as it was coming at my face.  His thumb swiped over my cheek while his fingers curled around my face.  

I leaned into his palm and I just… I didn’t know what to say.  I couldn’t get anything out.  And I hadn’t even realized I was crying.  

I finally just pulled back from him and he dropped his hand, his brow furrowing when I suddenly put the flowers down on the floor.  He was still standing just outside the door because I’d been too shocked to even invite him in and shit.  

I could read his face—he was going to start apologizing because he thought I was mad or something.

“No,” I said, waving again, and fidgeted, debating a second before I basically launched myself into hugging him and threw my arms around his neck.  

He let out this little noise—like pleased but surprised—and then his arms went around me, too, hugging me back.  

I squeezed him as tight as I possibly could and turned my head enough that my mouth was right by his ear.  “Thank you,” I said, my voice all quiet and overwhelmed.  I couldn’t get anything else out, so I hoped this would be enough to tell him what I was feeling.  

He chuckled a little.  “Uhm, you’re welcome.  But it was to thank you.”

I let go abruptly, because I wasn’t sure how long a hug like that should last, and he let me go right away, his hands going to his pockets, but there was a smile on his face, and he dropped his head like he had something to be embarrassed about.  

“Jesus, come in.  I’m sorry.  I was just… come in.”  I picked up my flowers and backed up into the apartment, letting him pass me.  “Let me find something to put these in.”  

Ha—see, that was good!  Flowers needed water.  I knew this.  I sounded normal!  Not like I had a fucking vase around here or anything, but I could find a jar or something.  No matter what they were in, they looked amazing.  

I admired them for a minute before I realized I was standing there smiling like a complete fucking moron and he was just watching.  Except when I realized and looked at him, he was just smiling, so I think he liked that I liked the flowers.  

“Let me just… put these…  I don’t want Jordan stealing them, or killing them or anything,” I said, grabbing my precious flowers and bouncing to my room.  

My room looked so much brighter the minute they were in there and I couldn’t stop smiling.  My room was kinda dull, there wasn’t a lot of color, or the colors were all faded, and the flowers made it seem so much lighter, happier.  I loved them.  

I sighed and touched one of the petals of the big star flowers.  So soft and delicate.  Amazing.

I felt all…  I dunno.  When I left my bedroom and walked back out to him, I couldn’t describe it, but I found it really hard to look him in the eye.  I dunno.  I know I was acting kinda weird and nervous and I couldn’t seem to make my lip come out from behind my teeth.

“The lady at the flower shop was great.  I said I needed flowers that said thank you and she launched into this list of flowers that signified that, and it must have been my complete look of confusion and terror that made her take pity on me.  I got to pick them out, though.  She arranged them.”  He shrugged.

“They’re really beautiful,” I managed.  

“I’m glad you like them.”

I looked him in the eye.  I thought he deserved to know.  “I’ve never…  No one’s ever given me flowers before.”

“What?  Never?”

I shook my head.  “Nope.”

“That’s just…  That’s wrong.”  He looked kinda pissed for a second, but then it shifted to something else—nervousness, or caution.  

I shrugged this time.  “Thank you.”

“Thank you.”  He cleared his throat.  “I… actually have something else for you.  I didn’t know if you’d like the flowers or not—”

“How could I not like the flowers?”  

How was that even possible?  Who wouldn’t love those?  

“Well, in case you didn’t, I actually…  Jordan suggested it.  I asked her before I left this morning, and after I thought about it it seemed like a really good idea, so…” He shrugged again and pulled something out of his jacket pocket, handing it to me.  

God.  It was fucking wrapped and everything.  Fucking asked Jordan even?

And just like that I was almost crying again, but I forced it down because he’d already seen that once tonight.  

I shook my head.  “Tyler, I didn’t…  You don’t have to thank me like this.  Just saying ‘thank you’ was enough.”  

He shrugged.  “Yeah, well, it meant a lot to me.  And I wanted to.”

“Should I open it now?”

“Sure.  I mean, whenever you want.”  He ran his hand through his hair.  “I didn’t think this one was as sincere or something, so…”

Ok, I was curious.  

I slipped my finger under the paper and tried not to rip it to shit.  Even the paper was beautiful—I wanted to save it.  

It was small and black and leather.  I turned it over and it had a snap on the front.  I opened the snap and realized he’d gotten me a fucking wallet—three-fold with a place for cash and ID and cards and a zippered part for change in the back.  

A motherfucking wallet.

He seemed nervous again, talking really fast and his hand constantly in his hair.  “Jordan seemed to think you always have cash and never have anywhere to put it, so you just keep in your pockets and stuff and it gets unorganized and shit, and I figured she was probably right since you… get a lot of cash at work, and I thought it was kinda stupid at first, but it seemed like a really good idea then, ’cause you’d have someplace to put everything, and I dunno.  If you don’t like it we can take it back and you can get something else, or…  And you don’t have a favorite color, so I went with black ’cause it’s neutral, and if you were somewhere shitty in town it wouldn’t stick out, and… yeah.”  He stopped then and took a breath.  “Yeah, so…”

He needed to stop this shit.  Because he was rambling like I was somehow gonna be pissed or ungrateful or something, and… he was so goddamn thoughtful, even if Jordan had given him the original idea, and…

Jesus fucking Christ, where did this guy come from?  And how the hell did he get attached to me?  

I was gonna cry again.  Goddamn it—I wasn’t even a crier.  I didn’t cry.  I was strong and mad.  I just got mad.  I didn’t get hurt.  Crying never solved anything.  

But this was for such a different reason.  I just didn’t know what to do with any of it.  And just when I thought I’d gotten somewhat of a handle, he went and fucked it up again, and I was all back to confused or surprised.  

I swallowed really hard.  “It’s perfect.”

“Yeah?”

I nodded.

“It’s not stupid?”

I shook my head.  I didn’t trust my voice anymore.  

I forced out, “Please tell me there aren’t any more because I won’t be able to stop crying then.”  

I have no idea why it even slipped out, but it was totally the fucking truth.  I wouldn’t be able to leave the apartment pretty soon.

“No, that’s it,” he said quietly.  

I nodded.  “Can you just… just give me a minute?” I said, and totally walked away again.  But I really had to.

“Yeah, sure,” I heard him say.  

I went straight for the bathroom where I turned on the water and then sobbed for a few minutes.  I just had to get it out, otherwise I was never gonna be able to look at him at dinner.  I hesitated to look at myself in the mirror, but it didn’t seem too bad.  I took a few deep breaths and flushed the toilet for cover and then came out.  

“I’ll be right there, Tyler,” I called, happy that my voice was steadier.  

I took the tags off the wallet carefully and ran my fingers over the smooth leather before I dug through the box on my dresser for the few cards that I had, putting them in a few of the slots.  I smiled when I took the cash out of my pocket because it was a mess, as usual.  I hadn’t bothered to do anything with it after work, just stuffed the tips in my pocket.  I ironed out the bills against the edge of the dresser and put them in order like Doug had told me that day so many years ago.  I put the cash in the back of the wallet and unzipped it to put a little bit of change in it.  I smirked, feeling really fucking responsible as I shoved it in my back pocket.  It fit perfectly.  

With my emotions under control, I was smiling when I came back out.  He was in the same spot, but leaning against the wall, his head down like he was thinking.  He stood up straight when he saw me.  “You ok?”

“Yeah.”  I nodded.  I pulled the wallet out.  “Look!  It’s all in one place.”

He looked down and then back up at me, and his smile was nearly breaking his face.  

“That’s great!  You can tell Jordan to fuck off now when she razzes you about the cash.  Just whip it out and be like, I got that shit all under control.”

I nodded again.  “I love it.  Thank you.”  

I leaned toward him, standing on my toes, and he went completely still.  He watched me the entire time until my lips pressed to his, and then they closed and he sighed into the kiss.  The softness of his lips hit me all over again and it felt just like it had this morning.  We seriously needed to go to dinner or we were never gonna get out of this apartment.

He cleared his throat.  “You ready, then?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

~ ~ ~

Pizza.  

He took me out for pizza.  

I mean, he was getting into territory where I was questioning again if this was real—the presents and everything, and then when he had me all worried about dressing up and shit, and being uncomfortable somewhere in a restaurant where I couldn’t pronounce the shit on the menu…  And we go for pizza.  

What could be more comfortable than pizza?  

It was so normal and relaxed, and I loved it.  

I loved everything about this night.  

And everything that he had done for me since we met. 





One (Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three) |   Two   |  Three  |  Four  |  Five  |  Six  |  Seven  |  Eight  |  Nine  |  Ten  |  Eleven  |  Twelve  |