Theo
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d played video games every day for a week—maybe when I was in college? But I couldn’t remember just rotting on my couch surrounded by snack wrappers and doing nothing but playing.
But that was all we did this week. After Scout got home from school, she did her homework while I finished up work for the day, then we had some dinner—where she begrudgingly agreed to eat something green—then we headed to the theater room to spend the rest of our night playing with Trinity and Brynne.
And every night, Brynne and I talked on the app. It was silly, but something about it felt safe. It felt like a fantasy, like it wasn’t real.
There were no consequences. No expectations.
But every night, our words got more suggestive—well, mine did. She stayed closed off, just out of reach. I knew she was just entertaining me, and I wasn’t sure if that was out of pity or if she truly had feelings for me.
It was childish and stupid to have this crush on her. I knew that. But I couldn’t help it.
Before I found out about Scout, when I learned Brynne was on Pulse months ago, something inside me shifted. A crush meant nothing, though. I’d had a million of them over the years, and after I slept with them, they always disappeared. I knew Brynne would be no different.
So, that meant we needed to just fuck and get it over with so I could get her out of my head. It was ridiculous the amount of residence she took up in my waking and dreaming thoughts.
She was all I could focus on—what was she doing, what had she chosen to wear to teach that day, what did she have for dinner, was she going to play with us? It was a never ending stream of thoughts about her, and it was awful.
So, I needed to fuck her. Just once.
Then we could both move on.
Steam erupted from the bathroom as I opened the door and made my way into the bedroom. A towel was slung low on my hips as I used another to dry my hair. Stopping at the bedside table, I checked my phone.
My heart leapt into my throat. A notification from Pulse, but it wasn’t from Brynne.
It was a message from a woman named Teri.
Sliding my thumb along the screen, I smiled at the message.
TERI:
I never message men first, but I thought I’d put myself out there this once.
So, how’s it going?
Please don’t let me make a fool of myself.
I didn’t have the heart to message her back, to tell her I wasn’t interested. She was a pretty woman, with dark hair and topaz skin, but the thought of talking to a woman that wasn’t Brynne didn’t sit right with me.
I exited the message with Teri and went back to the homepage. Sinking onto the edge of the bed, I told myself not to message Brynne again. We’d talked for a minute earlier while we played, but it was an unspoken rule that we didn’t talk outside the game or group chat.
But…
Maybe just tonight we could ignore it.
I hesitated. The thought of her just pity-messaging me sunk deep. I’d never felt insecure or unsure when talking to a woman, but Brynne had this way of making me second-guess everything I did. Everything I said.
The cursor blinked on the screen, taunting me. Tempting me.
I locked my phone, backing out of the app completely.
My screen was covered in fingerprints I needed to clean, but my reflection was there, and the hollow eyes of a man I didn’t recognize stared back.
And even though the screen was black, I could see the way my face drooped, the way my wet hair was unusually disheveled, the short beard that I hadn’t bothered to shave off.
Everything about me was different. I wasn’t Theo anymore, and fuck, I missed him.
The old Theo wouldn’t have hesitated to message a pretty girl on Pulse—even if she was his sister’s best friend. Boundaries? Didn’t exist. Feelings? Didn’t matter. He would’ve sent something flirty, something dirty, just to see what happened.
But even when I was in the thick of sleeping around, I never messaged Brynne.
Not once.
I came close a thousand times—nearly texting and teasingly asking if she wanted to hookup for the weekend, but I never did.
It would’ve been too messy. Too complicated.
And the old Theo didn’t do complicated.
But the new Theo?
Complicated was my whole goddamn life. Every breath, every decision, every fucking moment for the last few months had been complicated.
So what was one more complication?
It was just a message. It meant nothing.
We talked every single night on it. This would be no different.
It meant nothing.
I opened the app again, and thankfully, her profile was still there. Shoving my hand through my hair, I stared at her photos. She was so fucking pretty—she always had been, but there was something else about her now. Something that made me stop and take a second look, a longer look.
I pressed the message button, stared at the cursor, and waited for the perfect thing to say to come to mind.
I laid back on the bed, the split in my towel exposing my thigh. My abs flexed as I held my phone above my face, staring at the screen.
What to say?
What to say…
I hesitated with every letter I pressed, and when I hit send, I tossed my phone to the other side of the bed, my stomach twisted in a tight knot.
ME:
I think I’ve gotten better at Dropzone, don't you?
It was such a stupid thing to say. But what else was there? Other than Trin and Scout, Dropzone was the bridge connecting us.
My phone vibrated, and anticipation pooled in my veins.
Reaching across the bed, I grabbed it and unlocked it, not ready to read whatever she had to say.
brYNNE:
What do you want, Theo?
Okay, not as bad as I was expecting. It was a valid question—one I didn’t have an answer to.
ME:
I was bored. You were online. Why not?
brYNNE:
We talked earlier. I don’t think there’s anything else to say to each other
ME:
Maybe I wanted to tell you how terrible at the game you are
brYNNE:
I swear every time I talk to you I contemplate murder.
I couldn’t help the bark of laughter that slipped out. The next response was a half-thought, something I knew would toe the line.
ME:
I’d like to see you in handcuffs.
brYNNE:
Goodnight, Theo.
Shit.
I scrambled to find anything to latch onto—anything to keep this conversation from dying before it even started. I tapped out another quick reply.
ME:
Okay, that was sleazy. I’m sorry
Add it to the long list of dumb things I’ve said lately
brYNNE:
I expect nothing less from you tbh
ME:
Ouch. You wound me
brYNNE:
You’ll live.
Your ego is too inflated for you to bleed out
ME:
Yeah, well, that ego’s taken a few hits
That sounded so fucking dramatic—she didn’t want to hear about my problems. Quickly, I tapped out another reply.
ME:
Mostly from a pretty redhead who loves to yell at me, slap my car, watch me die on a video game, and tell me I’m an idiot.
brYNNE:
Well, if the shoe fits…
I just call it like I see it
Why are you messaging me, Theo?
ME:
Why are you replying, Brynne?
brYNNE:
I’m just curious about what you have to say. That’s all.
ME:
I’ve never been great at talking, you know that.
I’m better with my hands
brYNNE:
Are you seriously trying to flirt with me?
ME:
Is it working?
If I get out of line, we both know you’ll put me back in my place.
brYNNE:
You’re not half as charming as you think you are
ME:
I’ve had a million women say otherwise.
brYNNE:
A million women with low standards
Should I start a support group for them?
ME:
You’d have to be one of those million to start the group
brYNNE:
Keep dreaming, Playboy.
My heart leapt at the nickname. It should’ve made me feel like a sleaze, but, stupidly, it didn’t.
ME:
You sure you’re not just jealous you haven’t gotten a turn yet?
I stared at the screen, my heart in my throat, waiting for the reply. Seconds turned to minutes, and there was nothing.
Was that too far? Too much? Maybe I misread this entire conversation.
Then three dots appeared, and I held my breath.
brYNNE:
You’re my best friend’s brother. I won’t do anything to hurt Trinity.
Fuck .
ME:
You’re right.
I don’t want to hurt her either.
Or you.
brYNNE:
We should stop while we’re ahead, then.
ME:
We haven't started anything
brYNNE:
And we won’t.
ME:
Okay.
But answer something for me first
brYNNE:
I already know I’m going to regret this…
What?
ME:
You’ve thought about it too, haven’t you?
brYNNE:
Of course I’ve thought about it, Theo
But thinking and doing are two different things
I wasn’t sure if knowing was better or worse. Because I, without a doubt, knew she’d thought about fucking me, and now…I couldn’t do anything about it. But my body didn’t get the memo, because my cock started thickening under my towel, aching in a way I hadn’t in months.
Mindlessly, I reached down, grinding the heel of my palm over the bulge.
ME:
You realize you just admitted you’ve thought about fucking me, right?
brYNNE:
You did too
ME:
I’ve thought about doing a lot more than just fucking you, Brynne.
brYNNE:
Like what?
Her question took me by surprise, and I couldn’t stop the images flashing through my head as I pulled open my towel, letting my cock free. Immediately, I wrapped my hand around it, squeezing the base and watching precum gather on the tip.
ME:
I’ve thought about the sounds you’d make the first time I slide inside you. I’ve thought about how good you’d feel wrapped around me. I’ve thought about what you would look like tied spread eagle on my bed.
Should I keep going?
brYNNE:
Jesus.
We should stop.
This was a mistake
We shouldn’t be talking like this
I was barely thinking straight now, my mind so full of a lust-filled haze, all I could think about was the woman on the other end of the phone, my hand wrapped around my cock, and how desperately I wished it was her cunt instead.
With every pump of my fist, my lower stomach tightened, my toes curled, my neck strained.
That was why I said what I said next.
ME:
It can be our secret.
What happens on Pulse, stays on Pulse.
brYNNE:
You’re impossible
I’m going to bed before I do something I regret
Goodnight, Theo.
Take a cold shower.
I pumped my fist faster, my fingers tightening around my phone.
The green dot saying she was online faded to gray, and I moved back to her profile, staring at the photo of her in that silky, low cut dress.
It was similar to the one she wore the other night—it clung to every inch of her body, hugging curves I ached to explore.
She stared into the camera with wide, brown eyes—eyes I wanted to stare up at me while I fucked her throat, watching tears spill from the corners and stain her cheeks with mascara.
I wanted to watch her gag and drool all over me, her hands tied behind her back and her pussy dripping all over the floor.
I wanted her as desperate for me as I was for her. I wanted her to let me use her mouth, her body, the way I wanted. The way that would make me feel good—and then I’d lay her down, tease her, play with her, until she was a trembling, begging mess.
Then—then I would finally allow her to come. I’d watch her explode on my tongue, around my fingers before I crawled up her body, her breathing heavy, and I’d slip my cock into her soaking wet cunt.
I’d pound into her until the headboard broke, until her throat was raw from screaming my name.
Fuck .
I groaned, squeezing my cock harder as my body went taut.
Cum shot from the tip of my cock and pooled on my lower stomach, but my hand wouldn’t stop.
My mind wouldn’t stop flashing image after image of Brynne’s face twisted in pleasure, of her head tossed back as she rode me, as she cupped her own breasts, twisting and pinching her nipples.
My muscles cramped, my body seized, but I didn’t stop.
I was overly sensitive, but it felt too good—the fantasy felt too good to let go of.
But when I couldn’t take it anymore, when whimpers fell from my lips with every swipe, I finally let go of myself.
I finally locked my phone and dropped it to the bed beside me and stared up at the ceiling, breathing heavily.
I smoothed my clean hand over my face as reality settled in around me.
Fuck .
I really needed to stop doing this.