Chapter Ten #2
The walk to GJ’s wasn’t long, but the sun set so early now that it was cold and dark. As I made it closer to Main Street, students walked past me in groups to head to a party or bar or study session.
Despite it only being a few days since I last saw GJ and there being no indication I should be nervous to see her, there was still a small buzz of nerves fluttering through me as I texted her that I’d arrived at her apartment.
She came down a few moments later, breathless. “Sorry, the elevator was taking too long—I ended up taking the stairs.”
In spite of myself, I smiled as soon as I saw her face.
Her body wash—I recognized the smell from when she’d showered the other day—radiated off of her, telling me she’d just showered.
She held the door open for me, and all I could think about was how strong her arms were and how safe I felt being so close to her.
It also didn’t hurt that she was the tallest person I’d ever fooled around with; it was a refreshing change of pace to not be The Tall One.
“Thanks,” I said as I slipped past her and entered her apartment complex entryway. It was small—just a hallway, a place for mail and packages, the elevator, and the stairs—but there was enough space for us to theoretically keep a distance.
GJ, however, hovered as close as she could. She stood behind me, her skin brushing against my jacket. I could feel the warmth of her skin through it.
I wanted to kiss her so badly it felt like torture.
The elevator dinged, and the doors opened soon after. A few students stepped out and walked past us, one of them double-taking when their eyes fell on GJ.
I did everything I could to stay calm and normal because other people were around. But pretending electricity wasn’t buzzing between the two of us seemed impossible. I was certain everyone could tell exactly what I was thinking and feeling—and none of it was particularly PG.
GJ and I stepped onto the elevator. I was too caught up in remembering how to manually breathe to say anything.
It obviously wasn’t my first time over at her place, but it felt different than before.
Once was casual, twice was getting it out of our systems. But three times—and so intentionally, with GJ explicitly asking for my company and not even a direct booty call—felt like the start of something.
We were entering the point of no return.
GJ opened her apartment door and gestured for me to walk in. “Let me take your coat,” she offered.
I shrugged it off and handed it to her. “So chivalrous.”
She hung it up in the coat closet near the front door. “At your service,” she said with a playful half-bow. The entryway was small enough that we were practically on top of each other. As we slid off our shoes, our shoulders brushed.
I glanced over at her for just a second, taking in the sharpness of her jaw, the smoothness of her skin. I looked away quickly, like I was nervous I’d get caught. But when I looked over at her again, GJ was looking at me.
Even though I’d come over with a specific purpose that wasn’t overtly sexual, keeping GJ company could also mean having sex. There wasn’t a strict definition.
The thought seemed to occur to us at the same time.
GJ turned to me and tilted my chin up so she could kiss me.
I melted to her touch, my knees immediately going weak.
Her touch was ridiculously fucking hot—just the right amount of gentleness, just the right amount of pressure in her kiss.
It was a kiss that told me we were taking our time.
I wrapped my arms around her neck, and she pulled me in by the waist. Our bodies fell together effortlessly, like two puzzle pieces that fit just right.
I loved being able to reach up, to not have to be so aware of my partner being sometimes five or six inches shorter than me, like people I’d hooked up with previously.
GJ tilted my chin to the right and moved my hair out of the way so she could work her way down my neck. She trailed carefully downwards, using her tongue and her teeth instead of sucking, so a mark wouldn’t be left behind.
I moaned, heat rushing between my legs, and pressed my weight to her.
I was desperate to be as close to her as I possibly could.
My body clearly remembered how good the sex had been last time—and the time before that—based on how quickly I was turned on.
Just the anticipation of knowing what was coming next was getting me wet.
GJ moved her hands up my back and then around to the front.
One of her hands wandered inside my sweatshirt, moving over the bare skin underneath.
I might not have gotten dolled up for GJ, but I had made the intentional move not to bother to wear a shirt underneath my sweatshirt, and I was grateful I had.
I wanted her to have easy access with as little as possible in between us.
Her soft hands worked their way up my skin, making goosebumps bloom. When she reached my nipples, blood rushed to every sensitive part of my body. I wanted to strip off my clothes, climb onto the bed, and go for hours, not spending even one more second with foreplay.
But GJ’s voice echoed in my head, little reminders of how she liked to take her time with me. And she was right for it—the sex with her was better than I’d ever had with anyone else.
GJ slid her hands out from under my sweatshirt and moved them over my sweatpants, running her hands over the curve of my ass. She then easily lifted me up, my legs on either side of her torso.
I giggled. “New move?”
“I seem to remember you making a joke about me being able to lift you.” She didn’t miss a beat, didn’t even seem tired or out of breath. She just held me like I was nothing more than a piece of paper.
I didn’t even try to hide how badly I was blushing. “You really are strong.”
She smirked. “I’m good in bed, too.”
I lifted my eyebrows, leaning into the joke. “Oh yeah? You might need to show me, not sure I believe you—”
Before I could even finish my sentence, GJ brought me over to the bed. As we fell on it together, I threw my head back with laughter.
“I’ll have to work on the landing part,” she admitted.
“No, that was hot. I’ve always envisioned being dropped as a form of foreplay.”
GJ chuckled and pinned my arms above my head. Our bodies were pressed together, our faces just a breath apart. “I can arrange for more of that.”
“That feels vaguely like a threat.”
“Just let me kiss you,” she said with a smile, and I happily let her.
After several perfect rounds together, I finally had to ask for a break. We curled up in bed and wrapped our naked bodies up in the sheets. Even though this was only our third time alone together, it felt like we’d been doing this forever.
I glanced up at GJ, who was staring off across the room. The distraction part of the evening was officially over.
“Are you thinking about the article?” I asked.
It felt good to see the person I was with clearly thinking about something and not being nervous that it was about me.
Weirdly, it was hard to imagine GJ thinking something about me and not just telling me.
She struck me as someone who was naturally pretty blunt—or at least, she’d been clear with me.
“Yeah,” GJ admitted and cleared her throat. “Sorry, kind of a mood killer.”
“You don’t need to explain yourself. It’s okay. It sucks.”
GJ was quiet for a beat. “You’re right. It does suck.”
“Do you want to read it together?” I offered. “Since you haven’t read it yet?” I kept my eyes locked on her face, carefully reading what she might be thinking and feeling. I didn’t want to push her to do anything, but I also didn’t want her to think I didn’t care.
“I don’t know if I can,” GJ admitted. She huffed out a long, thoughtful exhale. “I don’t know if it’ll help me.”
“Maybe it’s not as bad as what the headline is saying. People love a clickbait headline. Maybe you’re not even mentioned in the rest of the article.”
She scoffed. “I doubt that. I’m sure there are at least a few paragraphs talking about my shitty playing and how my chances at getting drafted are shot.
Everyone is going to talk about how I was only good before because I had Theo to bounce off of.
It’s what everyone’s been saying for years, anyway. I’m just giving them the proof.”
I turned on my stomach, draping my arm over her waist so I could really look at her. “You’re good on your own. You know you are.”
GJ shrugged the comment off. “I’ve seen enough online to know what to expect. And public perception means more than actual ability to play sometimes. No one wants to draft the lackey.”
I tilted my head. “Do you want me to read it, and I can give you the summary?”
GJ let out the sexiest groan I’d ever heard in my life in a non-sexual context. My entire body fluttered at the sound. “I’m really glad you’re offering because it’s been driving me insane not reading it. I’m addicted to reading everything I find online about myself.”
I gasped. “Not a chronic self-Googler. Naughty.”
“I am,” GJ admitted, chuckling. “I’ve always been really bad about it. I like to say that it makes me better, but I think that’s only true when you’re actually good. When you’re feeling like shit and playing like shit, it changes things.”
“You’re so hard on yourself.” I reached for my phone on the nightstand and pulled up the article. I was careful to keep the screen out of view so GJ wouldn’t accidentally see anything about herself.
“I think you’re the only person who’s ever said that to me. Usually, the only thing people have to say about me is that I have a god complex.”
“I mean that’s definitely in there, too,” I teased, and GJ took me into her arms, turning me over in the bed.
“Stop!” I laughed, nearly losing my phone in the process. “Okay, let me read this article! You’re distracting me.”