COLTON
Seeing her so flustered is precious. She even freezes in the stall’s doorway, her hand still on the doorknob. Looks like I managed to surprise her. Well, if the place wasn’t so empty I probably wouldn’t have done it, but it’s the last movie of the night, and it’s after ten. No one is going to walk in, and if they do, I will apologize and leave.
“This is a women’s restroom,” she hisses, coming closer to wash her hands. I keep quiet, letting my eyes wander all over her body. She is wearing a red dress with a floral print, and the skirt ends just above her knees. It has long sleeves and a little cut-out neckline, giving me a great view of her cleavage. Her tits look perfect, and I can’t wait to see them without all these clothes. “Did you bite your tongue or something?”
I blink, swallowing my nerves. It’s one thing to stay silent to rile her up, but being speechless because of the thoughts I was just having? It’s my downfall. Nothing is going to happen between us. I plaster a sarcastic grin on my face, holding her gaze. “I didn’t.”
She turns on the water, adds soap, and starts washing her hands. “Maybe you didn’t notice the sign, but I’m telling you this is a women’s restroom. You’re not allowed in here.”
“Says who?”
“Me.” She turns off the water and dries her hands with a paper towel.
“Well, society says I can be whatever I want wherever I want,” I say, watching as she turns around and leans against the counter. “Anyone can be anything anywhere.”
“That’s Zootopia, not the real world,” she comments, and I notice the corners of her mouth quirk up in the tiniest smile.
“I don’t watch Disney movies.”
“Then how do you know the quote, about anyone being anything? And how do you know it’s Disney?” She’s got me. I watch Disney sometimes. Usually after I visit my mom. It gives me a very nostalgic vibe, and I enjoy it. Though I would rather die than admit it aloud, especially to her.
“What quote?” I murmur. “And besides, Zootopia posters were everywhere a few years ago. I would have needed to be blind not to notice them, so it kinda proves you wrong. I saw the sign. I just don’t care.”
“About a lot of things apparently,” she mutters. Then she takes a deep breath. “What do you want, Thompson?”
“Nothing.”
“It doesn’t seem like you want nothing.” She pouts. “Do me a favor and fuck off?”
“Can’t do that,” I say slowly, bending down to look her in the eyes. Such a beautiful dark green. Her gaze is stormy, and I’m mesmerized by her yet again.
“What did I do to you? I said I was sorry for slapping you. It was wrong; I admitted it. If you are still hung up on what happened or didn’t happen between you and my roommate—”
“I don’t give a shit about that girl. I forgot about her the day I walked out of your room. I blocked her on Instagram after she sent me photos of her boobs.” Her nose wrinkles in disgust, and her brows knit together.
“Why do you even…” She grimaces, shaking her head. “I don’t really like girls who send nude photos to boys they aren’t even dating, but I hate guys who talk about those photos even more. You’re horrible.”
911? We’ve got an emergency. Her words are totally on point, and I don’t know what I can do to change her mind. She’s the only person besides Clay I told about the photos, and I wasn’t going to tell anyone else. I deleted every pic her roommate sent to me the second I blocked her.
“I didn’t tell anyone—”
“How do you think guys would feel if they knew I showed their dick pics to my best friend and discussed their size, length, smoothness?” She bombards me with questions, and I feel my mind becoming jelly. Dudes send her dick pics? A lot? “I never discuss those pics. I never show them to anyone, and I just block any guy who sends one. While you—”
“Clay is the only person who is aware of the photos, because I wanted to know if she sent them to him too. I deleted her messages and blocked her, and I didn’t show her boobs to anyone,” I blurt out. In the silence that follows, I say, “I’m not the type of guy to brag about that.”
“Dunno, you seem like the type to me.” She challenges me, and it changes my mood. I narrow my eyes, leaning closer to her.
“To brag about my sex life, or to send photos of my cock?” She bites her bottom lip when the word “cock” leaves my mouth. She has a very dirty mind, doesn’t she?
“The first one.” She shifts a little, crossing her legs at the ankles.
“You’re wrong. I don’t brag, and I never discuss sex with anyone. Not even with Clay.” I gaze at her intently. “Ask him if you don’t trust what I’m saying.”
“So you’re an honest person?” she asks, and I nod. “Okay. Then a question: what do you want from me, Thompson?” She speaks sweetly, but a fire dances behind her irises.
“You’re not listening.” I smirk. “Nothing. I don’t want anything from you.”
“Then what is this all about? Why are you here? Why were you watching lil ol’ me instead of the movie?”
“I think I like our dynamic.”
“Our what?” She blinks.
“Our dynamic,” I repeat with a smile. “At first, I was irritated with you, but now it’s kinda funny. How you react to me; how easy it is for me to get under your skin.”
“This is entertaining for you?” She blows out a noisy breath and crosses her arms over her chest. “Do you enjoy seeing me so aggravated? Volatile?”
“A little.”
“You’re making my first year of college unbearable.”
“Don’t be so dramatic, freshman.” It comes out on its own, without me even thinking about it. Her expression becomes blank, and I have a strange feeling in my gut that I just broke our dynamic.
She takes a step to the side, intending to veer around me to the door, but I block her way.
“Get lost, Thompson.”
“I thought we were talking.” I shove my hands in my pockets to hide my nervousness.
“It’s an illusion. I don’t talk to people who can’t even call me by my name.”
“You don’t call me by my name either.” I remind myself of a big kid.
“Really, Colton? You’re looking for excuses, nothing else. I bet you don’t even say my name in your head.” Is she a mind reader? She sees right through me, and it scares me. “Your face says it all. Do you even know why you’re like this?”
“Like what?” I lick my lips, seeing her beautiful eyes narrow even more.
“You’re reserved and opinionated. You don’t let people in, because you have too many things you don’t want to share with anyone. You create boundaries, filter your words and even your thoughts. Calling someone by their name means becoming familiar. Becoming closer. And you’re dead-set on being distant.” She looks up at me. She’s small, but at the same time, she’s a warrior. That word suits her perfectly. Just like the way she described me is totally on point, but I’m not ready to admit it.
“And you were fucking your best friend’s brother behind her back.” I speak in a hushed voice. “Pretending to be loyal and—”
“At least I like the guy I fuck.” She takes a step closer, her eyes locked on mine. A question pops in, and I’m having a hard time getting rid of it. “While you—”
“Do you like Benson?” I blabber hurriedly, cutting her off.
“What?” Shutting her down is ridiculously simple, but only because she’s stunned by my question.
“You said you like the guy you fucked,” I repeat like an idiot. “Do you really like him?”
“Fuck you.” She bolts to the door, but I grab the doorknob, not letting her open it. “Open the damn door.”
“Is my question so hard to answer?” I whisper in her ear. “Is it so hard, Ava?”
Saying her name has the effect I hoped for. She wheels around slowly and peers at my face. I wait for her to say something, literally anything except yes.
“I certainly do not like you.” She punctuates every word, and I’m losing it. For the first time in my entire life, I’ve lost control, and I’m not sure I want to take it back.
“Fuck it,” I mumble to myself. I wind my hand around her waist and pull her close to my chest. Without giving myself a chance to change my mind or giving her the opportunity to push me away, I bend down and cover her lips with mine. Just because I want to have a taste, nothing else.
I press her closer, and she gasps in surprise, letting me slide my tongue inside her mouth. The second mine brushes hers, my cock comes to life and my whole body becomes tingly, because she answers my kiss, closing her eyes at once. She has a fucking piercing in her tongue, and it makes this moment even more sensual. More passionate, but at the same time I go slow. I don’t want to rush things, not with her. I want to experience every emotion this kiss is giving me, every quickened heartbeat this girl causes me. I want it all.
The scent of her perfume wafts around me, filling my nostrils and sliding under my skin. It’s strong, and at the same time very pleasant. She smells of vanilla and coffee. I really like it. Her mouth is soft, and I suck her bottom lip into my mouth and graze my teeth over it. This girl drives me crazy, and I have no idea if I will ever be able to react to her without looking like an obsessed moron.
Lifting her and turning to my right, I put her on the countertop and stand between her legs. Our lips move together, and our tongues play with each other while I let my hands slide down to her hips. She’s so freaking fine my brain stops functioning. I want her, here and now.
I squeeze her butt and yank her to me, until she’s sitting on the very edge, and my hard dick pokes through my jeans. I know she can feel it. She moans into our kiss, and it’s the sweetest sound on Earth, especially because I’m the reason for it. She moans for me, and I can’t fucking wait for her to scream my name. Over and over and over again.
A door closing with a bang makes us both freeze, and I lean away from her. Someone walked into the men’s restroom; that’s the only other door in this hallway. We are both breathing hard, our chests rising and falling. I just had the best kiss of my life. I have never felt—
“What the hell was that?” Her whisper-yell brings me back to reality. I furrow my brow, gawking at her in bewilderment. What the hell was what?
She pushes me away and jumps to her feet, smoothing down the skirt of her dress. Her movements are erratic, proving her nervousness. What is going on? I honestly feel absolutely confused and out of place. It’s the first time in my life a girl went from moaning to literally destroying me with her glare in a matter of seconds.
She strides for the door, and this time I just watch her, not moving a single finger. “Don’t you dare kiss me.” She opens the door and looks at me over her shoulder, halting in her tracks. “Never do that again, Thompson. Ever.”
“But you kissed me back, Ava,” I reply, amused. It takes two people to kiss the way we just did. I wasn’t alone in it, and I fucking know it.
“In your dreams,” she stammers loudly, and the next moment, the door slams shut. Man, this girl is going to be my absolute nightmare.
I splash some water on my face, then I quickly walk out of the restroom and head back to the movie. I haven’t said anything to Clay, so it would be better for me to return and try to watch the movie at least a little. Or watch her again. I definitely like the second option more, and I can’t stop myself from smiling once I get to my seat. She likes me. Ava likes me, and for incredibly strange reasons, I’m excited. I’m scared as shit, but at the same time, this new experience intrigues me. It’s a very big deal for someone like me, and I…
The thought disappears as I slump down into my seat next to Clay. Where the fuck is she? Did she take another seat? Did she even come back? My blood boils, and the hair at the nape of my neck stands on its end. I’m a mess, and I can only be grateful for the darkness of this place. I probably look like a total psychopath.
“What took you so long?” My best friend turns to me. “You missed such an awesome moment.”
“Another call from my dad,” I tell him quickly.
“Sorry he’s ruining your night.” Clay smiles sadly and looks away, focusing on the movie again.
I take a deep breath, put my elbows on my thighs, lock my hands, and just stare at the screen. If anyone asked me about this movie, I wouldn’t be able to tell them what it was about. My mind is occupied with someone incredibly special, and she won’t be leaving it. Fucking remarkable. I’m stuck in the theater, watching something I don’t want to watch and thinking about someone I never thought I would be thinking about.
When the movie ends, Moore and I are the first ones to leave. We walk shoulder to shoulder, not saying anything. When he opens the door, we both blink. The lights are too bright after the darkness of the movie theater. I rub my eyes with my knuckles, adapting to my surroundings as a loud laugh whizzes through the air.
I whirl my head in the direction of the sound and see her. She is sitting on a couch with a guy who works here. I remember him; he was the one who sold me the ice cream. I instantly clench my jaw.
“There you are.” Layla’s voice behind me is penetrating. “Ava, are you ready to leave?”
She stands up and spins to face the guy. I have no idea what she tells him, but he smiles from ear to ear. Fuck. She bends down and plants a kiss on this dude’s cheek. Double fuck.
“How was the movie?” Her voice is melodic and clear as she saunters over to Layla and Grace.
“Who’s the guy?” Grace singsongs. I want to strangle her for the stupid question.
“Alec? He’s nice,” Ava says, and I’m freaking sure she knows I’m listening. “He kept me entertained; he was way better than the movie.”
“Unfortunately, I can’t agree with that.” Layla drapes a hand over her best friend’s shoulder and tugs her close to her side.
They’re almost out the door when Benson jogs over to them. Motherfucker is giving them a ride back to the dorm. I pull my hoodie over my head, waiting for Clay to show up. When he finally does, I’m beyond impatient but also enthusiastic. I know what I should do to get her all alone with me, and I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to pull it off.
