15
Angelo
Shiiiiiiit
From sweet dreams and pleasurable groans, to an alarm in the night and a racing heart, I dive out of bed the second she hangs up, trip on my sheets, yank on a pair of underwear, and almost plough headfirst through drywall when I trip a second time.
My dick aches. It fucking throbs with want.
A guy goes to sleep thinking of a certain blonde, he dreams of her, dreams where she’s free, silly, and wild like she once was. He dreams of sinking deep inside her and he doesn’t have to worry about her freaking out, so when he wakes to find her name flashing on his screen, shit starts to blur on the friends to lovers scale.
Her name bleeping at me in the dark meant I soared for the smallest beat, victorious in my dream-haze, until my brain caught up and the worry nearly broke me.
What does she want?
What does she want to talk about?
Does she know the years she shaved off my life when my brain overtook my dick and started thinking for me?
I race to the bathroom with my cell in hand and a shirt half on. Stopping at the mirror, I snag a hair elastic from the counter and whip my hair back. It’s five o’clock in the damn morning, and she’s willingly inviting me over.
As if I’m not going to go.
Forgoing coffee, forgetting breakfast, ignoring my wildly racing heart, I sprint out the front door and fight my clothes as I try to tug everything on while running. Silently apologizing to my neighbors, I start the Charger and wake every kid for a five-block radius.
That bad karma’s gonna bite me on the ass one day, but today, I have an invitation to talk to Laine.
Fucked if I’m not accepting.
The tiniest crack of pink sky peeks out from behind the rolling hills as I cross town. I could never be a city dweller; those hour long trips just to get to the store, the hour drive home, despite the fact it’s only five miles, all those fucking people always up in your space.
No. Living just three minutes from every person I love is the perfect reason to stay exactly where I am.
I turn in to Bish’s street and cut the engine twenty seconds earlier than I need to. Cicadas replace the sound as I roll to the curb and stop out front of Kane’s house.
I don’t want to know what he’s doing right now, I definitely don’t want to disrupt them, and I absolutely don’t want them to come downstairs and interrupt Laine’s questions.
Jumping out of the car with socks on my feet and my boots in my hands, I watch the closed garage door and study the light peeking out from the crack at the bottom.
Jesus, what does she want?
What would she call me in the middle of the night to talk about?
I drop my car keys into my pocket and trip my way into my shoes. I’m like an eager puppy; after watching her for so long, after hoping for her to watch me back, I’m here waiting for a pat like a damn dog.
Cool your shit, Angelo. Back the fuck up and relax before she spooks again.
I slow my steps. Pulling in deep breaths, I let them out and repeat.Slow it down. Relax. You know this girl; she’s your friend.
Fuckingfriend. Because every dudelovesthe friend-zone.
I stop at the garage door and lean closer to hear the soft sounds of Chopin’sNocturneplaying through speakers.
Did she do that for me?
Did she do that because it soothes her?
Did she do that to soothe the damn car?