“Please, Antonio—”
“Okay.” He steps back from me, hands in the air as I hand him the sprayer to get the soap out of his hair.
“You’re fun to fuck. Is that better?” He grins, washing his hair out.
“Much better.” I reach my hand out, and he looks at it for a second before laughing, shaking his head as he shakes my hand.
After we finish our shower, we curl up in my bed and turn on the tv. Hanging on my wall. It looks like a picture frame, and you can choose what painting you want on it, then when you want to watch something, you just use the remote. Mine has an ornate gold frame— rather proud of it.
Antonio only has his underwear on because apparently he usually sleeps in the nude but is being nice enough to not do that for my sake. It’s not like we didn’t just have mind-blowing sex or anything. My head is on his shoulder as he selects a random rom-com that I’ve never heard of about a ghost and some man who moves into her apartment.
Twenty minutes in, and I kind of love it. I’m a sucker for all things romance. Hence, Pride and Prejudice being my guilty pleasure. That whirlwind might not be in the cards for my life, but I can have my cake and eat it too if I invest in fictional romance. When we’re halfway through the movie and Antonio is mindlessly playing with the ends of my hair, he looks down at me. I feel his breath on my forehead, and I lift my chin to see him.
“Yes?” I laugh when he doesn’t say anything.
“So, that handshake earlier?”
“In the shower?”
“Yeah.”
“What about it?”
“We were shaking on the fact that we can have sex now?” I pause, wondering how he got that from how I rejected him touching me that way again.
“No…” I narrow my eyes, confused.
“I don’t mean fuck just anyone. I mean fuck each other.” His brows turn up at the inner corners, and I furrow mine in response.
“What?” He asks.
“No. It’s nothing. I’m just trying to figure out how you thought that my handshake was a deal to endless sex. Like, how much of boy brain do you have?” I tap my knuckles lightly on his forehead, and he grabs my hand to move it away.
“Hey. Watch it. This boy brain fucked you so good. You came like a billion times.” I glance up to the ceiling and pretend to count the times, but honestly, I lost count after the third.
“Was it not good for you?” He whispers as if someone who wants to be fucked will hear him and reject him because he wasn’t satisfactory for someone else. No problem there, though. He’s as addictive as a drug.
“I don’t want you to get a big head— well, bigger than you already have—“
“Hey!” I laugh, and he pulls me closer to his chest.
“You’re good.” I breathe. “Like—“ I suck in another breath. “Really, fucking good. Okay?” I look up at his growing smile, and then he turns down the corners of his mouth with a nod like he’s pleased with himself.
“Okay.” He breathes a laugh, and I shake my head. It’s silent for a while as we continue to watch the movie, then closer to the end, he raises his hand.
“Okay, just to be clear, we’re not having sex?”
“Antonio.”
“Right. Okay. Fine.” He quickly blurts, and I smile at his ridiculousness. I shouldn’t be smiling. Shouldn’t be finding it the least bit endearing. He likes sex. It’s why he’s a playboy. I’m just giving him what he wants until the next girl comes along after this is said and done. In a few months, he’ll be back to fucking everything in sight, and I’ll be on the road of total control over my life.
I’m drifting asleep before seeing the end of the movie, but I can predict what happens. Somehow, he gets the girl, and they live happily ever after. It’s a good ending for a nice feel-good movie. I wish it were my reality. Though I want my independence, I still want someone to depend on. A predictable, sappy type of love that makes you want to give your life for each other and push each other to your fullest potential.
Right before I fully drift into my dreams, that’s what I wish for when I’m ready. A love that sweeps me off my feet, a love that’s there when I wake up every morning and holds me close at night, a love I can trust.