Catching Feelings (Orleans University, #2)

by Maren Moore

For the girls who are a little Smashing Pumpkins and a little Taylor Swift. Who guard their heart like the fortress that it is. There is nothing more important worth protecting.

It’s not love, but it’s definitely lust, and when it comes to wanting Vivienne Brentwood, I’m a fucking goner. I never stood a damn chance.

And there’s just something about a girl who pretends she wants nothing to do with you but secretly wants to bounce on your cock when no one’s around.

My idea of a perfect Friday night is one where I’m wearing the same holey, worn Smashing Pumpkins T-shirt I’ve had since freshman year of high school, bundled up in my bed, under my favorite blanket, watching a cult classic horror movie or a nineties rom-com while I’m snacking on SweeTarts.

“Jesus, Grant, what the hell is this, battery acid?” I sputter when I finally catch my breath. “It tastes like absolute shit.” His eyebrows wag. “My secret recipe. Like swallowing down fire, but it gets the job done quick. Trust me.”

“Fuck yeah.” I groan, the vibration of the massage chair loosening my taut, aching, and overworked muscles. “Feels so fucking good. Like when you’re getting your dick sucked and she accidentally uses her teeth a little, but it still feels fucking amazing, so you let her keep going.”

“It wasn’t a mistake, Viv.” He snorts. “It was the best sex of my life, and it wasn’t a fucking mistake. Don’t say that shit.”

“Do you see me, babe? I’m a six-foot-three catcher about to go to the MLB. I eat like a fucking horse to keep this physique up.”

“The only thing that is hot to you is soup and bathwater, remember? We’ve been through this.”

It’s only been one night that Viv has been here, and I’m still trying to get used to cohabitating with another person, especially one that I want to sink my cock inside twenty-four hours a day.

Grief is an emotion that never wanes. It’s constantly there in different shapes and forms, a reminder that no matter how much time has passed, you’ll still ache.

It’s a crime against humanity. Truly. Being in the same room with a half-naked man that looks like him and you’re not allowing yourself to touch. And really shouldn’t even be looking… At the little patch of hair below his belly button that leads to what I know is the best dick on the planet. He’s so annoying even his dick is perfect.

“Fuck, my dick is actually tingling right now. And not in a good way. I think it’s going to fall off, Viv. This is serious. My dick can’t fall off. It’s my best feature.”

I pull the blanket tighter around me, my head dropping back against the couch, and my eyelids grow heavier by the second. The last thing I remember before falling asleep is that I don’t think that it was the comfort of the movie that I needed after all.

“Sorry, babe. But it’s calling my name, and I must go where the Jell-O takes me. Like the sea, mate!” I announce like a pirate, and I have no idea why. Okay, yeah, I’m drunk. But I’m happy, and my arms already feel like wiggly noodles, and I haven’t even looked for Reese in fifteen whole minutes.

“Do you need anything else?” Your dick? Preferably balls-deep in me while I ride you? Your tongue inside me? “Nope. I’m good. Thank you, again.”

“I can think of several things I want to do to you in the back seat of this limo. You know, back seats seem to be our thing, Sweet Tart.”

She’s a breath of fresh air, especially when she’s busting my balls, and I’m feeling things that I’m not supposed to, but it’s too late. I’m too far gone. I’m falling for her. I’m falling like a lovesick idiot because I know those feelings are one-sided, and I’m firmly in the friends who sometimes fuck zone.

“Stop being so sweet. It makes me want to fuck your brains out.”

“Are you going to suck my cock like the good girl I know you are, Vivienne?”

“My girl loves to suck my cock, doesn’t she?” I answer by sucking him deeper and holding until I’m gagging around him.

He loves it when it’s messy, and I’ve learned that I love pleasing him. I’ve never wanted to hear anyone’s praise more than I do his.

“Reese?” “Hmm?” I hum against her mouth. “I want you, boyfriend. Right. Now.”

It’s what we do best—feel each other when words aren’t enough. That’s how I know in my bones that Vivienne is the love of my life. We understand each other in a way that I can’t even explain, and I know she’s the girl I’m going to marry one day. Because that’s what love is, a connection that is deeper than words. It’s in my blood, coursing through my veins with each pump of my heart that belongs to her.

The girl I thought that I would never catch because every time I got close, she’d run even further away. But we ended up colliding into each other in a way neither of us expected, and it turns out that catching feelings was the best choice we ever made.

I love the way you wear a backwards hat and your big bleeding heart. I love your tender touch and how you hold me when I fall apart. I love your strength and how you always put me first. I love the way you see me, and sometimes I love you so much that it hurts. But mostly, I love the way that you love me. How I always imagined love would be. I love the way you caught me and the way you never let me go. I love you, All-Star, and I hope you always know.”