Ann Aguirre - I Want It That Way

By comparison, I felt like a crumpled dollar bill.

“Best morning ever,” he said.

Before I could ask what he meant, he pushed me up against the car and kissed me. In the side lot, it was doubtful anyone could see us, certainly not Sam, and I wanted this too much to push him away. His mouth was magical, chock-full of endorphins and sweetness. He was syrup and pancakes for the soul.

“Wow,” I said, breathless.

“Yep.” Such a lazy, delicious smile. Why had I never noticed how devilish he could be? “I might start leaving ten minutes later, if this is the payoff. Hate to kiss and run. I just needed a top-up to last until tomorrow night.”

When I realized I was that close to finishing midterms, I nearly burst into tears. “What time should I be there?”

Ty was already rushing toward his car, long legs putting distance between us. I’d never seen him run before, and I was transfixed by the sheer, animal grace of him. He called over his shoulder, “Should be home by nine. I’ll text as soon as I pull up.”

Like I won’t be watching.

The memory of that kiss carried me through my morning shift and through afternoon exams. Somehow I lived through Friday, as well, and then I drove home, unable to believe I’d come out on the other side with my sanity intact. Stumbling into the apartment, I didn’t see anyone at first, but as I closed the door, I spotted Max just standing in the kitchen, leaning on the fridge; I hadn’t seen him since I’d talked to Lauren on Wednesday.

“It works better if you open it,” I said.

When he turned, I sucked in a sharp breath. Scratches and bruises marred his face, and one of his eyes was nearly swollen shut. I dropped my backpack and raced to his bedroom door, anticipating his next move, and I was barely fast enough to stop him from pushing past me.

“I don’t want to talk,” he said.

“Okay.” Though I originally planned to hop in the shower and get ready for tonight, I had time. Grabbing his arm, I tugged him into his bedroom and shut the door behind us.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Conrad, but I’m not remotely in the mood.”

Smirking, I ignored the lame joke aimed at saving face and picked up a game controller. “Let’s shoot some things.”

He sighed. “You won’t go away?”

“In an hour, I will.”

“Fine.” Max plopped down on his bed and put in a noisy, violent game. For a good half hour, neither of us said a word, just tag-teaming on zombies. This wasn’t my favorite type of game, and I was usually too busy to play them, but it was worth it when he stopped looking quite so fucking alone.

Eventually, he paused the game and flopped backward on his bed. “You’re not asking.”

“Do you want me to?”

“Not really.”

“There you go, then.” Gently I put a hand on his head.

To my surprise, Max sat up and hugged me. Not really understanding, I wrapped my arms around him and rubbed his back. His breath came in ragged gulps, and he wasn’t crying, but it felt the same, just endless waves of shudders mixed with painful gasps. I just held him and said nothing because I knew Lauren had to be mixed up in it somehow. She hadn’t mentioned a fight the other day, but maybe this was a new development.

In time, he pulled away, still battered, still bruised, but there was a hint of a shy smile in his eyes. I’d call that progress.

“You’re not so bad,” he said.

“This is your home, okay? Don’t roam the streets looking for trouble. There are people here who love you.”

“Do you love me?” He pretended to leer.

“I’d call you the annoying brother I never had, but I have one already. So you can be my irritating cousin.” I stood up, stretched and caught sight of the clock.

Shit. It was past eight, and I’d left my phone in my backpack. If Ty got home early, he must be wondering where the hell I am. I’m not standing you up, I promise.

“You can clock out. I’m fine.” Max smiled, the motion pulling at his split lip.

After stepping out of his room, I immediately checked my messages. Relief surged through me when I realized Ty must still be with his parents. I emptied my backpack of notebooks and tablet, then added my phone and charger, two pairs of underwear, a couple of T-shirts, my toothbrush. I’d never spent the weekend with a guy before, at home or otherwise. I had no idea what to bring. Though I suspected I didn’t need it, I put in my cosmetic bag.

Maybe I should’ve cooked something? Is it weird to assume we’ll be naked the whole time? Should I pack more pants? Pajamas? With a shrug, I decided I could run upstairs for anything I needed, though I was trying to avoid the teasing and inquisition from my roomies. Bizarre enough that this sex-a-thon would take place in our building. The usual presex rituals calmed me a little. I showered, waxed, moisturized and then put on yoga pants and a T-shirt for easy off/on. Maybe I should dress to impress, instead, but I had the feeling anything I wore would end up on his floor. Hope so, anyway.

At fifteen after nine, my phone beeped. Ty:

I’m home in 5 4 3 2...you ready?

You have no idea.

I ran down the stairs to meet him.

Ty was stepping inside when I reached the foyer. At the front doors, he squeezed me close, kissed my forehead and then left his arm around my shoulders as he moved us toward his place. “You have no idea how much I’ve been looking forward to this weekend.”

“It got me through midterms,” I confessed.

That prompted a smile as he unlocked the door and flipped on the lights. This was the messiest I’d ever seen his place, likely because he had to feed Sam, pack for day care, plus the weekend bag, and get his son out of the house early. This was probably the first time he’d been back all day. It didn’t bother me, but Ty went around collecting stray toys, like he didn’t want any reminders. He stuffed them in the trunk and then turned to me.

“Let me take a quick shower, okay?” I was a little surprised that he didn’t suggest taking one together, and he must’ve read that in my face, because he added with a small grin, “Shower sex can be complicated. We need to work up to it. Plus, I want to take my time in bed, not worrying about how much hot water we have left.”

“I like the way you think.”

He disappeared into the bathroom, and I turned on the TV. Now that we were finally on the cusp of changing everything, butterflies flapped like pterodactyls in my stomach. There had been so much buildup, so much tension. What if reality couldn’t live up to expectations? I was frowning at an infomercial when Ty came into the living room, toweling his hair dry.

“You don’t believe that nonstick cookware traps the flavor inside and requires no oil?”

The flutter inside me turned into a different feeling when I realized he was naked, apart from the blue towel knotted around his waist. My gaze slipped to his feet, second toes longer than the first, traveled up to well-muscled calves and lean thighs. Skipping upward, I admired the beads of water clinging to his chest. His stomach was slightly ridged, not a six-pack—he didn’t have time for that—but cut enough to tempt me to trace the lines. Broad shoulders, strong arms, he was the total package, and even more when you considered how smart and funny he was, what an amazing person.

When I shifted my gaze upward, he was flushed, either with excitement or embarrassment. “Damn. That look felt like foreplay. I was going to offer you a drink, but—”

“I’m not thirsty.”

“Then turn that off. Too much TV is bad for you.”

Smiling, I stood up and he took my hand. We walked down the hall toward his room, and I noticed that Sam’s door was closed. Symbolic, most likely—representing Ty’s commitment to keeping these two parts of his life separate. He had a full-size bed with a black wrought-iron headboard, and it was already turned back, revealing brown sheets beneath the blue-and-brown circle-patterned comforter.

He turned and put his palm to my cheek. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never had a woman in this bed.”

Perversely, I was glad to hear that. Even if we never had a regular relationship, this part of him was mine. “I thought you said it had only been—”

“I go out occasionally, pick someone up, either at a bar or a party. Then we go to her place. I don’t stay the night.”

Put that way, it sounded depressing, not the right mood for our first time. But I couldn’t help asking, “How is that better than beating off?”

A wry smile. “I’m not alone. Let’s not talk about this, okay?”

“I just need to ask one more thing.”

“Feel free.”

“Will you still be doing that while we’re doing this?” I tried not to sound bothered because we didn’t have a commitment.

“Of course not. But you can...do what you want.” To my vast pleasure, he gritted that last part out, as if he hated saying the words.

I laughed softly. “I wouldn’t have the time or energy. This is enough. You are.”

“If that’s true, you’re wearing too many clothes.” He grasped the bottom of my T-shirt and pulled it over my head in a smooth movement.

I didn’t think he expected me to be topless so fast because he stilled, eyes on my breasts. I’d had guys touch me and not turn me on as much as that look. I watched his face as I worked my yoga pants down and stepped out of them. Now I had on my panties, and he was still sporting the towel. My hand trembled as I flicked it away from his hips. I had never been prone to comparing male packages, but his made my mouth water. In a glance, it was deliciously obvious how much he wanted me.