Trenta y Uno
He insisted on walking as close to me as he possibly could when he followed me out of the cafeteria.
He had my bag on his back and didn’t stop to talk to anyone who tried.
Instead, he kept all his attention on me.
Doesn’t he care that people are looking at him like he’s fucking crazy?
Does he realize he’s walking next to me?
Didn’t he notice that I was wearing the same clothes as yesterday? Isn’t he like… embarrassed?
“Shut it down, Ed,” he had said to me while we walked toward the library. Doesn’t he have things he'd rather be doing? Isn’t there other people that he wants to be around? Like his hockey team? He really just wants to sit in there with me?
“Tell your big, beautiful brain to stop with all the crazy talk, I can hear you thinking.” It’s like he can read my mind or something. “Stop fighting our fate.”
I don’t know why, but my fucking body and mind listened to this fine-ass man as if she’d follow him anywhere.
When the voices in my head quieted down, and my heart slowed down to sync with our steps, I realized it wasn’t so bad walking with him like this.
It was actually kinda nice. Me gustó. I liked it.
And when we walked up the library steps, my fucking mind, body, and soul listened to his words again. It was there that he woke up parts of me that had never seen the rays of the sun, or the beams of the motherfucking moon.
“You know what I’m thinking about, Ed?” he asked while he held open the heavy door. I had tilted my head up to look at his handsome-ass face, and I got stuck on his smirk.
“I’m thinking that one day, we’re gonna put one of those tutor rooms to good use.
I’m gonna spread you over all your big books and your study guides, and then I’m gonna fuck your brains out, so everyone in this library knows you’re mine.
” I’ve never wanted anyone in my entire fucking life, and here this motherfucker was, setting something free inside of me that I didn’t know was even locked away.
His words served as the password, and his tone of voice was so smooth that it effortlessly eased open a secret door to my soul’s core.
“Whenever you’re ready, hermosa ,” he had added with this look on his fine-ass face like he was letting me know he would wait and be patient, but also couldn’t wait for me to agree.
Patience was not a word or a fucking concept that I’d ever attach to a man, yet here he fucking was again, showing up in ways I never expected.
And this time, he did it while whispering dirty words with respectful intentions into my ear like it was no big deal. Diosas, wey. He had me fucking tingling and my hands shaking to the point that one of the librarians clocked my trembling fingers when I scanned my QR code to sign in.
I’m pretty sure she also clocked his big-ass hand that was firmly on my back. His fingers lay right on top of the tattooed X on my lower spine, and his fingertips marked me to the fucking bone.
And now it’s been hours, and he’s still sitting here, looking calm as hell as he scribbles in a notebook while I try to keep my shit together and my insides from melting out of my body.
I swear the things this man says stay on a loop in my head.
I’m not getting anything done here. There’s no room in my brain for anything but him.
He’s taking up all of it; it’s all his fucking words, all the looks he’s giving me, and the potent masculine energy that rolls off his big-ass body.
It’s like I have carbon monoxide build-up in my brain.
I was literalmente running to the bathroom to splash cold water on my face every time I heard his voice in my head. I felt myself turning red and couldn’t fucking concentrate.
Pero , he called me his. Said we were together. Talked about me being naked. Called me hermosa . No. Mames. Wey.
I mean, at this point, I’m starting to fall for his voodoo. How could I not when he looks like that when he says the shit he does? Even just sitting here with that hat on his head, he’s damn fine. It’s black on black with the school devil on the front and the number three embroidered on the side.
He looks stupid hot, and it’s got me acting like a dumb bitch. ?Carajo wey! Just look at this motherfucker. Sitting here, lounging back in his chair with his chain out, hat on, looking like a fucking problem dressed in head to toe black. This man makes me want things.
“You thinking about me, Ed? I thought you were supposed to be working, smartypants,” I glare at him for calling me out and being inside my head again.
“?Cállate, huevón! ” I hiss out and look back down at my laptop. It’s safer than watching his mouth play with his chain. Why is that so fucking attractive?
“I was right, you were thinking about me,” he says with the same enthusiasm someone has when they hit a scratch-off card and win a fucking prize.
Does he even realize he fucking sounds like that? He’s gotta stop, otherwise I’m gonna start to think this could be real life and not just right this second. It’s a thought I’ve never really had. Whenever I pictured my future, I never saw anyone there. And now there is.
“No!” I’m too fucking flustered to look at his face.
It’d be dangerous for me if I looked up right now.
I’m already having a difficult time staying on track.
I really need to refocus so I can get back to researching the Kings Prep Princess, but he keeps distracting me with his perfect fucking face and his big-ass hands.
“You sure? Eyes on me, Ed.” I don’t even fucking hesitate. Damn this man and his fucking voodoo.
“What do you want, cabrón ?” I ask, and he smiles with those fucking dimples as he narrows those chocolate chip cookie eyes at me. Fuck you, man.
“Wanna take a study break with me?” He says and wiggles his eyebrows. His chin nods toward the back of the giant room, his chain stretching around his strong jaw. “It’ll help you relax; you look more tense than usual.”
“You’re the one making me tense.” I’m literalmente in-fucking-capable of sitting still, and it’s all his fault. Es su culpa, wey. It’s his fault. “Pinche pendejo,” I whisper-hiss.
“I am, am I?” He asks and reaches for a long chunk of hair that’s fallen from my braid. “Why’s that, Ed? What am I doing that's got you wound up so tight?” He wraps the strands around his fist before letting them fall away.
“You exist,” I admit on a breath and suck one in when I feel his knuckles graze my cheek.
“Then how about we go back there,” he pulls my chair out from the table and then brings me closer to him. “And I’ll go searching for that magic little spot that's buried deep in your pussy.” Ay, no diosas, wey.
“I’m not –,” His hand lands on my knee, and he writes his name with his finger on my thigh.
“I wanna see you detonate, Ed. I wanna see all your pieces when you explode for me.” No mames.
“I can’t –” Both of his hands travel up and around each of my upper legs as he gently squeezes.
“You will.” His hands feel so good, I might let him do whatever he wants. I’m not only letting him touch me, I’m letting him do it out in the open. Because right now, I don’t give a fuck if someone notices.
“I don’t think –” His giant-ass hands massage my covered legs, and it’s like he’s kneading away my excuses as they all die on my tongue.
“And when you do, I’ll put you back together. Every. Single. Time.” ???NO MAMES, WEY!!! Who says that?!
“Is that a promise?” ?Ay, wey! ?Por qué lo dije en voz alta? Why did I just say that out loud?
“It’s bigger than that, Ed, it’s more like my own personal mission statement.” He sounds so sincere, and it hits me right in the heart. “And it only applies to you.”
“You always know what to say, and it always sounds so smooth, es muy suave. ”
“I’ve never said any of these things to another person before, because I’ve never felt like this. It’s that simple.”
“It’s not simple at all. I have no idea what I’m supposed to say when you make these big declarations. You make me stupid.”
“Not possible, smartypants.”
“You really do.”
“Maybe that study break would help,”
“Pff, you wish.”
“I do.”
He’s got a playful look on his face, and I can tell he’s waiting for me to keep it going, but I’m frozen in place. I feel eyes on me, and they're strong and familiar, and I already fucking know it’s her. I take a breath and slowly turn my head around. And then I see Payton.