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The combination of blonde hair and brown eyes is unusual, and my fingers itch to trace over those freckles.
“I’m not going to ravish him!” “You could, probably. You know what else I noticed last night? Him watching you.”
One thing has become very clear during my week here—my roommate is very attractive and I have spent a lot of time noticing it.
We sound like a pair of teenagers, fumbling through their first relationship. Or, more accurately, a pair of dumb jocks who aren’t accustomed to talking about their feelings.
“So, what you’re saying is, you like me.” I roll my eyes. “Yes, idiot. I like you.”
“Well, I’m happy for you. I figured there was a 50/50 chance of it working out in your favor. You’re awkward as fuck.” “You’re my least favorite friend. I have no idea why I sit with you for away games.”
“On your day off, you want to go to work and skate for fun?”
“All right, no oral in public. There go all my locker room fantasies, I guess.”
I’m going to make him come without even touching his dick, I decide, and mentally square my shoulders. I rotate my hand slowly, crooking my finger inside of him, searching for that magical orgasm button.
“I’m going to marry you, one day,” I say, into the dark room. Sam snorts, wrapping an arm around my chest. “Of course you are. But you’re going to have to ask me a lot nicer than that.”
