Chapter 22 Gorgeous
Gorgeous
Ali
The Netflix homepage idled in the background, the third time it had asked Are you still watching? ignored as white noise. Ali was curled up in bed, fuzzy socks on her feet, hair piled on top of her head, and her Kindle half-forgotten beside her.
She hadn’t slept much. Not with the way Dylan’s voice kept replaying in her head. That last, sinful whisper. The way her own name had fallen from his mouth like a benediction.
The front door creaked open, followed by the unmistakable sound of someone kicking it shut with their foot.
“It’s just me and your cure for all things emotionally unhinged and hungover,” Ashley called.
Before Ali could react, her bedroom door swung open and Ashley flopped dramatically onto the bed, two Zaxby’s bags in hand. The familiar scent of chicken tenders and crinkle fries filled the air like a balm.
Ali blinked. “You brought me Zaxby’s?”
Ashley grinned. “Duh. It’s Sunday. You’re hiding in bed. Jason said you disappeared to the bathroom for like half the night. That screams emotional hangover.”
Ali laughed and shook her head. “I’m not hungover. I had, like, one drink.”
Ashley paused mid-fry. “Wait. So you’re in bed all day, red-faced, jittery, and Netflix-looped without alcohol as an excuse?”
Ali rolled her eyes, cheeks already flushing. “I wasn’t in the bathroom.”
Ashley narrowed her eyes like a cat sniffing out secrets. “You weren’t?”
Ali hesitated. And that was all it took.
Ashley’s jaw dropped, eyes gleaming. “You dirty little hussy!” She swatted Ali’s arm with a pillow and squealed. “I knew it! You got laid, didn’t you? That’s why you disappeared. Who was it? Do I know him? Oh my God! Tell me everything.”
Ali buried her face in her pillow and groaned. “I hate how well you know me.”
“Start talking,” Ashley said, flipping open the food bag and handing over the toast with a Zax sauce as a peace offering.
Ali sat up, cradling the buttery bread like a lifeline. “Okay. Fine. But you can’t freak out.”
“Please. Freaking out is my entire personality. Now spill.”
Ali inhaled. “I went outside for air during the fundraiser. Just needed a break, and… Dylan followed me. He-"
"Wait a second cuz! Dylan!?" exclaimed Ashley.
Ali ignored her and kept going. "He wanted to talk but I kinda jumped him…” Her face went crimson. “We had sex. Outside. Against the building.”
Ashley gaped. “That’s not just sex. That’s cinematic.”
Ali giggled, covering her face. “I thought I was going to have a heart attack. I literally almost had a panic attack in the parking lot afterward.”
Ashley’s smile faded, her tone softening. “Shit. Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I mean… I wasn’t. But he found me again, and he talked me down. Sat with me on the pavement. Didn’t push. He was so— him. Just steady and solid and sweet.”
Ashley tilted her head, chewing slowly. “Dylan always was a good guy. Intense, but good. What else?”
Ali fiddled with the hem of her sweatshirt. “He told me he’s in town visiting family for a few days. That he wants to see me. And then… I got home and couldn’t sleep and I texted him.”
Ashley raised a brow. “Risky.”
“I know. I was spiraling immediately after. I was like, ‘Oh no, what if he thinks I’m clingy or weird or—’”
“And?”
“And he called me. Told me to stop spiraling. Called me ‘babe.’ Said he hadn’t stopped thinking about me. Except it was just like college. He was always so explicit”
Ashley squealed into her fist. “He talked dirty to you?!”
Ali nodded, cheeks burning. “Yes. But also somehow still gentle. Like he knew exactly what to say to make me feel sexy and safe at the same time. And I might’ve hinted that I… touched myself when I got home.”
Ashley shrieked. “Ali! You left him with a verbal visual! You minx!”
Ali giggled into her hands. “I did! And then I hung up before he could say anything else. He let out this sharp inhale and I just— panicked and said goodnight.”
Ashley rolled onto her back, laughing. “Okay, I take it back. You’re not a hussy. You’re a goddam legend.”
Ali pressed the toast to her face and groaned. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Yes, you do,” Ashley said seriously, sitting up and nudging her with a fry. “You’re doing what feels good. And for once, you’re letting yourself have it.”
Ali’s eyes stung unexpectedly. “I think I want to see him again.”
Ashley smiled. “Then you will. And if he hurts you— well, I’m a lawyer with access to a baseball bat and an encyclopedic knowledge of Georgia self-defense statutes.”
Ali burst out laughing, nearly choking on a crinkle fry. “That’s deeply unhinged.”
Ashley grinned. “And legally sound. And I brought Zaxby’s.”
Ali leaned into her best friend’s shoulder and smiled. “You’re the best kind of insane.”
Ali’s phone buzzed.
She was halfway through folding a blanket from the couch, her hair messy from wallowing on the couch, when Dylan’s name lit up the screen.
Dylan:
Can I take you out sometime this week? Like…actually take you out. Not just… you know. Against a wall.
She snorted, cheeks instantly warming. “Unreal,” she muttered, heart fluttering as her thumb hovered over her screen.
She typed:
Ali (unsent):
That sounds nice but I’m not really up for being seen out somewhere together.
Delete.
Ali (unsent):
I don’t really do the whole going out thing. Like in public. Not with someone like you.
Delete.
Ali (unsent):
I want to. I do. But I’m just not ready for that yet. For what it would mean. How it might look.
Backspace. Delete.
She sighed, setting the phone down on the coffee table and walking away. She grabbed a Coke Zero from the fridge. Twisted off the cap. Took a sip. Came back and sat down, phone still glowing.
She took a breath and tried again.
I’d love to see you, I’m just… nervous about being out together. Like, in public. After everything from college. It’s been years, but some of that stuff still sticks, you know? I just need a little time to feel okay with all of that.
Her finger hovered over “send.” She reread it three times. Bit her lip. Then finally tapped it.
A minute passed.
Then another.
Hey. Thank you for telling me that.… How about this: I pick you up, we drive around and look at the pretty houses on Mariner’s Lane and Dockside Ave.
You can wear sweatpants and judge everyone’s landscaping choices.
Then we grab something lowkey and eat it out at Bellamy Marsh Preserve. Sunset. Just you and me. No one else.
Her heart melted.
You remembered the marsh?
Still my favorite view I’ve ever had.… Well. One of them.
She bit her lip, smiling now.
Okay. But I’m wearing biker shorts and bringing bug spray.
Deal. I’ll be the guy in the Tritons hoodie pretending he doesn’t know he’s hot shit.
You’re not pretending, McKenzie.
God, I’ve missed your mouth.
She slid onto her back, grinning like an idiot, phone still in her hand, heart racing for all the right reasons.
She was curled up under her throw blanket, half-watching Ransom Canyon, half-scrolling Instagram— but her mind was nowhere near the show or her phone.
It was still with Dylan.
The way he said, “God, I’ve missed your mouth,” was playing on a loop in her brain.
Her mouth.
She bit her bottom lip. Hard.
She’d never done that.
Not with him. Not with anyone.
She’d thought about it— gawd, she’d thought about it— but never actually followed through. Even back then, when things with Dylan had been intense and emotional and real… she hadn’t been ready.
And after? After the hospital, after everything— she never really trusted anyone enough to go there again.
There had been guys. A few kisses. One or two whose hands had wandered. She let it happen, up to a point. Just enough to remind herself she was alive.
But she always stopped it.
Always backed off before things could go any further. Before clothes came off. Before expectations took over.
Ashley used to tease her about it, told her to “just get laid already.” Ali would laugh, brush it off, say she was busy or picky or not into hookup culture.
And now… after last night… after that wall… her whole body was buzzing with need.
She pressed her thighs together, lips parting instinctively as she remembered the way he felt— hard and hot, sliding deep inside her like he belonged there.
Her cheeks flushed.
She wanted to feel him again. Wanted to please him. Taste him.
Gawd, what would it feel like to have him in her mouth?
The thought made her stomach flutter and heat pool low. She didn’t even know how to ask for that. Didn’t know if she could say the words out loud. She wasn’t bold like that.
But maybe… maybe she could give him a hint.
She sat up, grabbed her phone, and opened their thread.
Then she stared at the blinking cursor for a solid two minutes.
Typed. Deleted. Typed again. Deleted.
Finally, her fingers moved without her permission. And before she could talk herself out of it, she hit send.
I keep thinking about what you said earlier. About my mouth.
…I think you’d like what it’s been thinking about too.
Three dots appeared on the screen almost instantly.
Her breath caught.
She threw her phone across the couch and buried her face in her hands.
What did I just do?!
But her heart was racing in the best way.
Because this time?
She didn’t want to back off.
Then her phone dinged. And dinged. And dinged.
She couldn’t take it anymore. She lunged forward and snatched the phone up.
Babe.
You have no idea what you just did to me.
I’ve been thinking about that mouth since I got in the car last night.
She clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle the squeal.
Another ding.
Tell me what it’s been thinking about. Or better yet… show me soon?
She barely had time to read it before another message popped up.
And just so we’re clear— If “wall things” are now a category… I’m gonna need them on the regular. Like Tuesdays, Thursdays, and every day ending in Y.
Her hands flew to her face again, and she groaned into her palms, grinning like an idiot.
“Gawd, Dylan,” she whispered, rolling onto her side and curling around the phone like it was a warm body. He was teasing her. Of course he was. But he liked it. Her wording, her honesty, her shyness and want tangled up together.
He liked her.
Ding.
Also, I think I left a handprint on that wall. Pretty sure we owe that building an apology.
Ali buried her face in the pillow and let out a breathless laugh.
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard.
My mouth’s definitely been thinking about “wall things.” But maybe… with a different wall next time? One that doesn’t require public apologies?
She didn’t send it.
Not yet.
Because her heart was pounding and her thoughts were racing and—
She wanted to savor this moment.
But not forever.
Because for the first time in a long time?
She wasn’t scared of wanting more.
Her thumb hovered for only a second more.
Then— send.
“Omg,” she groaned aloud the second it delivered, throwing herself back on the couch, eyes glued to the phone like it might explode.
She didn’t have to wait long.
…Jesus, Ali. I’m trying to be good. But if you keep texting me like that, I’m gonna lose all sense of decency. You’ll be blushing for days.
Her breath hitched. She covered her face with both hands, heat blooming across her cheeks, down her neck, between her legs.
I’ll pin you to any wall you want.
Bedroom wall. Shower wall. Back of the closet door. Hell, against the fridge if that’s what you need.
Just tell me. I’ll give you everything that mouth of yours is thinking about.
Ali let out a high, breathless sound and scrambled upright, pacing again.
Her pulse was doing cartwheels, her mind spinning with everything his words implied.
Fridge.
Closet.
Shower.
Bedroom. His bedroom.
Her knees nearly buckled.
Because that was the one she wanted most.
But she didn’t know how to say it.
Not yet.
So instead, she typed something coy, with her lip caught between her teeth:
I don’t think I’m ready for a fridge yet…
Then— heart thudding— she added:
But I think about your bedroom. A lot.
And this time?
She didn’t throw her phone.
She held it tight.
And waited for what came next.