13. Lolly
thirteen
Lolly
He follows a few steps behind me as we reenter the club. I can still taste him on my lips.
Alcohol, citrus, and something that’s just—him.
I spot Jay and give him a wink. He knows I’m up to no good, but he just smiles in encouragement.
I glance back to make sure Bailey didn’t bolt.
Nope. Still with me.
His gaze catches mine. Hesitant, wrecked—and I can’t help but smile.
He looks sexy as hell tonight, but I miss those slutty glasses. God, do I miss those.
We’re surrounded by throngs of people, but he’s all I can see. All I can feel. He pulls at something within me that I haven’t touched in years.
“Hey Oliver,” Liam says. Thanks for returning our boy!”
I laugh, “It was my pleasure.”
I don’t have to look to know Bailey’s blushing.
“You good, Bays?” Liam’s voice is softer now, eyes gentle as he waits for a response.
“Oh for sure, much better. Just needed some air.”
“Sorry I dipped like that.”
“Dude, no worries. I totally get it,” Liam says. “I got hot as hell a minute ago too.”
I’m willing to bet Liam knows it was more than the heat that was getting to Bailey, but he lets it go. Doesn’t push. Just gives him space. Supportive but not condescending or overbearing.
“Nat and Meg are still dancing.” Liam adds. “Apparently I’ve been slacking on cardio because I couldn’t keep up.” He shakes his head in astonishment.
“No shit, I’m ready for bed and they’re just getting started,” Bailey says.
“Right? I’m tired too, but I’m not ready to throw in the towel just yet. You see that blonde in the red dress over there?” He motions in that general direction.
I don’t, I’m distracted.
“Yeah, why?” Bailey says.
“Because she thinks I’m cute and I fully intend to capitalize on that before I—”
He cuts himself off, squinting at Bailey, brows furrowed in confusion.
“Why do you look like you just fucked Tinkerbell?”
Bailey blinks slowly, “What?”
“You’ve got fucking glitter all over your face, man.” Liam snorts. “What the hell?”
Bailey freezes, eyes wide. It’s dark in here, but I’ve no doubt his cheeks are bright red.
“That’s on me,” I interject. “He walked straight into my wings.” It’s not completely untrue.
“Oh, okay, damn. And here I was hoping for a story. Thinking I was going to get the juicy deets but nope. Maybe next time,” he says with a wink.
Bailey looks at me, quiet gratitude in his eyes.
I give him a small smirk. Yeah, he definitely owes me one.
I turn to him, “You want a ride home? Jay will be here at least another hour and I’m about to head out.” I finish the sentence before my nerves get the best of me. There’s a flicker of something unfamiliar in my chest. It’s tight, a bit uneasy.
Anticipation?
I don’t love it, but it has my interest piqued.
“Oh, I–um,” he glances toward the crowd. “I’d hate to leave before my friends.”
“Jesus, Bays,” Liam cuts in, elbowing him in the arm playfully. “Go home, feed Beto, and get some sleep. I promise you we’ll survive without you for a few hours.”
“I’ll make sure to tuck him in and read him a bedtime story,” I tease.
Liam laughs, “Night, Bays. You two be careful getting home.”
“You too,” I reply.
Bailey is frozen in place, hands twisting in his shirt, probably still blushing.
“You ready?”
“Y-yeah,” he stammers before looking at his shoes.
I smile, “Follow me, green eyes.”
As we navigate the crowded space, I glance behind me every now and again to make sure I didn’t lose him.
I take a deep breath when we step back out into the night air.
“I’m parked in the deck around the corner,” I say. “And if you’re going to stare at your feet the whole time, you need to hold my hand so you don’t walk into anything because I promised Liam I’d get you home in one piece.” I offer my hand to him, silently hoping he’ll take it.
Bailey glances around, tapping his fingers against his jeans as if they might decide for him.
He pulls in a deep breath and takes my hand, his eyes never quite meeting mine.
Warmth spreads through me at the contact. Something about this—this small act of trust—pulls tight in my chest, and I can’t stop the smile that follows.
He’s nervous, so I let this be enough—this quiet offering, his hand in mine.
The streetlights hum softly above us, the air charged like it knows our secret.
The sidewalk crunches under my boots, softer under his sneakers, as we pass through the ebb and flow of light and dark. Each step between streetlamps feels like a small victory.
I unlock the SUV as we approach the parking garage, the headlights providing enough light to guide us.
With his hand still in mine, I walk him to the passenger door. He’s looking at his feet again so I let go and open the door.
“Thanks,” he says quietly.
“You’re welcome.”
I slide into the driver’s seat, letting the wings fold in behind me, and head out of the deck.
“You do realize you’re going to have to tell me where you live, right?”
I dare a glance at him. His cheeks are red again, but I don’t miss the small smile that crosses his lips.
“Yeah, sorry.” He laughs, a small, nervous sound. “I’m in the Williams dorm.”
“Not far from me at all,” I reply, handing him my phone. “Put your number in there, I never got a chance to talk Liam into giving it to me.”
“Oh, um.” He pauses.
“Okay.”
I bite back a grin. “Thanks.”
I turn some music on, softening the silence without crowding it.
“What do you listen to when it’s just you?” I ask.
“Um, that’s a tough one,” he says.
“Come on,” I tease, “I promise I won’t judge.”
“Well, in my car you’d be susceptible to everything from Cannibal Corpse to Taylor Swift.”
I laugh, “So… everything? I can’t think of a genre that doesn’t fall between those two extremes.”
“Country?” He offers.
“Taylor Swift’s first album was country. Nice try.”
“Shit.” He crosses his arms in defeat. “Fair point.”
I glance at the dashboard, watching the miles disappear faster than I want them to. Already regretting having to leave him.
Will he panic if I walk him to his door?
Probably.
Am I going to do it anyway?
Absolutely.
I keep my right hand firmly planted on my thigh, even though every instinct tells me to reach for him again.
I don’t know what he needs. I’m not even sure what he wants.
My heart sinks as I pull into the parking space outside his dorm, the miles burned, destination reached.
I jump out of the car before he has a chance to argue, barely making it to his door in time to open it.
“You didn’t have to,” he says. He looks at me and then his eyes dart across the parking lot like he’s searching for witnesses or instructions. Maybe both.
“Come on, green eyes, let me walk you inside.”
He looks at me, hesitant. A flash of something crosses his face.
Curiosity?
He’s so cute. The way he tries to make himself smaller like he isn’t already the only thing I can see.
He nods and heads toward the entrance without looking back. My boots echo behind him, loud enough to remind him I’m there.
He stops at the double doors, scans his keycard and turns slightly toward me.
“I’m on the second floor,” he says. “You don’t have to come all the way up if you don’t want to.”
“I don’t mind.” I reach around him, brushing his shoulder, and hold the door open for him.
“Who’s your roommate?” I ask, my voice echoing in the stairwell.
“Don’t have one. Got lucky somehow. It’s just me and my goldfish.”
“You have a fish?” I can’t help but smile at that. Of course he does.
“Yeah, Master Beto. He’s kind of a big deal around here.”
My laughter carries up the last few steps and I put my hand over my mouth to stifle it before he opens the door to the hallway. It’s late and who knows how many people are already in bed.
I follow him to the last door from the stairwell and watch as he fumbles his keyring.
Adorable.
He finally succeeds and turns to look up at me, eyes wide and questioning.
“Th-thank you.”
My eyes drop to his lips when he licks them and I’m reminded that I’m standing in the fucking hallway when I should be on the other side of the threshold.
“You gonna let me in?”
He freezes, hand still on the door, eyes wide and brows raised.
I lean against the wall, waiting. Watching. Taking in all of him as if it’s the last time. Like my brain knows something I don’t and wants to capture every detail.
He clears his throat and then steps further inside, holding the door ajar.
I take a tentative step toward him, slowly closing his door shut behind me, careful not to catch my wings as it swings shut.
He hasn’t moved an inch, but I notice the rise and fall of his chest. How his breaths have quickened.
I take another step toward him. Slowly.
Closer.
I shove my hands in my pockets to stop myself from touching him.
What’s going on in that chaotic mind of yours?
“For the record, I am sorry I spilled my drink all over you.” His brows furrow, lips turned down.
“That’s interesting, because I am so glad you did.”
He huffs out a quiet laugh. We’re so close I can smell his cologne. Smell the evening air coming off of him. I taste his exhale.
I’m lost. Trying to name the countless shades of green in his beautiful eyes. Jade. Emerald. Teal…
His eyes widen, lips slightly parted.
“Are you okay?”
He nods then gently presses his forehead to mine.
“May I—kiss you again?”
“Yes,” he whispers.
That’s all I need.
I free my hands from the confines of my pockets and grab his beautiful face, pulling back for a second just to admire him.
He licks his lips and lets out a stuttering breath and my resolve shatters.
I crush my mouth to his and a fire begins to consume me. Burning from the inside out. Demanding more.
More of this.
More of him.
His arms wrap around my waist, again under the cover of my wings, as he kisses me back with a matched ferocity.
I press my hands against his chest and guide him backward until his shoulders hit the wall.
My mouth finds his jaw. He tastes like starry nights and fresh air. Salty sweat and apprehension. He lets out a moan and I shudder. The sound is fucking music to my ears, a symphonic echo of my own ecstasy.
He rocks his hips against me and it takes my breath away. His warm hands slip beneath my shirt. His skin on mine is euphoric.
It’s not enough.
“Oliver,” he whispers against my lips. My name on those beautiful lips is the filthiest thing I have ever heard and I would die a thousand deaths to hear it again.
“What is it, green eyes?” I ask, breaking our kiss to take his ear into my mouth. I scrape my teeth across his lobe and he shivers. I bite—he hisses, then grinds against me. His hard length against my dick feels so fucking good I almost forget I asked a question.
“Please,” he whimpers.
I kiss him again—harder. I explore his mouth with my tongue, drawing his into mine until he makes that sound again. Fuck.
“Please, what?” I murmur between kisses, my smile changing the trajectory of his tongue.
“More, please.”
His panting breaths taste like redemption.
“I need,” he manages.
“I need more.”
His plea breaks something inside me. Without hesitation, I unbutton his jeans and pull them down before grabbing his briefs.
He moans as his cock springs free.
I pull away from his mouth.
His dick is hard for me; beads of precum glisten at the tip.
“Fuck,” is all I manage before I’m once again at the altar of his mouth, worshiping.
I cradle the back of his head, then wrap my other hand around his length.
“Oh, shit,” he hisses.
“You like that?” I groan, voice raw with arousal.
“Yes,” he says through shuddering breaths. “Fuck yes.”
I kiss him again, taking his bottom lip between my teeth, scraping them gently across it as I pull back to check on him. His lips are swollen, cheeks flushed, eyes half-lidded with desire.
His eyes roll back as I stroke him in slow, languid pulls that leave his lips parted.
I smile and take his mouth again, circling his slit with my thumb on each upstroke. “Damn, green eyes. You’re so fucking wet for me,” I groan as more beads of precum slick my hand.
“Fuck,” he whines, hips thrusting into my grip.
He’s so fucking sexy I keep ripping my mouth from his just to catch a glimpse.
Those eyes.
That mouth.
I catch the next sound that leaves those perfect lips in mine, getting high on his pleasure. Reveling in the perfect way his eyes flutter closed between gasps just to open again in wonder. His pupils are blown, the green barely visible.
“I can’t—”
“You can’t what?” I tease.
“I’m not going to last much longer—oh, fuck. I’m sorry.”
I laugh against his lips, “Never apologize,” I say before taking his mouth again.
My tongue plunders his mouth, searching for answers to questions I’m not ready to ask.
My strokes quicken, each pull bringing him closer to the edge.
His breaths come so quickly now he’s just panting against my mouth.
“Come for me, Bailey.”
“F-fuck,” he stutters, lips skimming mine.
His eyes widen as his hands tighten around me.
“That’s right,” I smile, holding his gaze.
He throws his head back against the wall and lets out the sexiest fucking sound I’ve ever heard. The crescendo of his climax is his undoing as he comes apart in my hands.
For me.
With me.
Mine.
I find his lips once more in a gentle, chaste kiss.
He makes a soft, broken sound when I pull my hand away.
I love it.
Bliss looks good on him.
We stay there, breathless in the moment, his face only inches from mine.
When he doesn’t speak, unease creeps up my throat. Sharp, sudden fear that he regrets what we’ve done. What if he pulls away from me now that he’s coming back down? Shuts down, shuts me out?
I push down the doubt and focus on his eyes.
A small smile forms on those perfect lips as he watches me.
I pull his pants back up, concentrating on catching my breath as I try to figure out what he’s thinking.
What he’s feeling.
My cheeks warm as his gaze falls to my lips.
“Kiss me.”
It’s so soft that for a moment, I think I might have imagined it.
“Please,” he says, louder this time.
I smile, tilt his chin up, and bring my lips to his.
Reverent.
Soft.
Vulnerable.
He mirrors my movements and it feels like a confession. Like he’s telling me everything. That he doesn’t regret it. That he’s afraid, but not ashamed.
I slowly pull away, instantly regretting having broken our connection. My lips mourning the loss of his.
“It’s late, and I promised Liam I would tuck you in,” I tease.
Bailey laughs, “I know. I’ll be sure and text him that I made it home safe.”
“Is safe what you’d call this?” The question is heavy, but the words needed to be freed.
“So far, yeah,” he replies, voice soft.
He pauses for a few breaths, “Safe.”
“Well,” I begin, the urge to kiss him making it difficult to form words, “thank you for letting me walk you to your dorm.”
His cheeks flush again. “You’re um, welcome?”
I grin, laughing at his earnestness.
I lean in and kiss his cheek, “Goodnight, green eyes.”
“Night,” he says, a crooked grin on his face.