Shit. I’m an idiot.

“Do you really just want to sleep? Because if you do, I’ll have to try hard to keep my hands from wandering south of the border.” She gives her brows a creepy wiggle.

“Yeah, we should probably sleep.” The last thing I want is for her to think I’m taking advantage, or that I asked her to spend the night so I could bang her. Even though she knows I’ve never screwed anyone, I’m not trying to make her think tonight’s going to be the night.

Although…

My mind can’t help but go to that place. That naked, sweaty, orgasmy place.

But. I don’t have condoms.

The guys do—the communal bathroom has a whole drawer full of them.

But I wouldn’t even know how to put one on.

Shut up, loser. How hard could it fucking be? Get a grip.

My dick twitches when Charlie runs the tip of her finger around and around my areola; it’s firm beneath my t-shirt.

“I don’t have pajamas.” No, she doesn’t, and I don’t have any for her. My t-shirts would be ginormous on her.

“You can borrow something if you want.” How the hell did we go from me wanting to talk to her blowing me to me inviting her to spend the night? Jesus, I work fast.

The whole thing escalated quickly.

But I’m ready for it.

I think.

“You really want me to spend the night? Seriously?”

“Yeah—I think I really do.” And I realize I mean it. I’ve never slept next to anyone, just Pops those times we shared a hotel room for an out-of-town football game growing up when I played for an elite traveling team.

He’d get a double, and we’d share a bed. Or, I’d sleep on the floor next to it. Builds character being humbled, he’d say. You’ll appreciate it someday, and besides, I’m payin’ for the goddamn room. Someday you’ll repay the favor.

What will it be like sharing a bed with a girl? Will I roll over in the middle of the night and crush her? Will I snore and wake her up? Shit—will she snore and wake me up? Kick me all night, tossing and turning?

I size her up. “How do you sleep?”

She considers the question. “On my back? I think I sleep like I’m in a coma—at least, my blankets are usually in the same spot when I wake up every morning. I can usually just flip the covers back into place without remaking the entire bed, so…yeah.”

“All right.”

“Why? What are you like when you sleep?”

“Honestly, I have no idea.”

“Guess there’s only one way to find out.” Charlie rests her hand on my shoulder. “Are we sure we’re not rushing this?”

No. We’re definitely rushing it.

It’s too soon.

I’m not ready for it.

But I’m going to fucking suck it up; I’ve known her for weeks already, and chickening out is the coward’s way. If I was one of my friends, I would have fucked Charlie by now, not invited her to spend the night. Anyone else would have let her suck him off, fucked her, and kicked her out.

I’m doing this entirely the wrong way and don’t freaking care.

If my father found out, he’d tan my hide…

Your father isn’t here.

No one is.

Just you and Charlotte.

And ten other dudes, but who’s counting?

“The bathroom isn’t private, but I don’t think anyone will bother you if you want to go use it real quick. Most of the guys are still studyin’.” Enough chicks come through here that you learn to ignore them—although, if someone has to take a piss, they’re going to tell Charlie to get the fuck out of the bathroom.

It’s ours, not for the use of random women, and that’s how we treat it. Like a private sanctuary for taking shits and showering, not as a glam room for hook-ups.

“So it’s okay if I go freshen up or whatever?”

“Yeah.” I shift on the bed, sit up. “Why don’t I come with you and stand outside the door, just in case. I don’t need you gettin’ hassled.”

Charlie smiles at me like I’ve been sent from heaven. She’s sweet—goddamn angelic. Her rosy cheeks and that little dent in her cheek flirting with the insides of my stomach.

“Thank you.” When she scoots off the bed, she pecks me on the lips before hopping onto the floor and sliding her shoes back on. Makes for the door, glancing over her shoulder to see if I’m following.

I rise. Push down my semi-wood with a shrug; not much I can do about it. Lead her to the bathroom and give the door a tap before pushing it wide open. It’s empty, and clean—the cleaning people were here this morning, scrubbing the kitchen, floors, and shared bathrooms.

Breathing a sigh of relief that the place isn’t disgusting (usually there are pubes all over the toilet seat), my hand rests on the brass doorknob, poised to pull it closed behind me so Charlie can do her thing alone.

“Let me know if ya need anything, ’kay?”

“Mmkay.” She beams up at me, pushing a strand of silky blonde hair behind her ear. “Do you have a toothbrush I can borrow?”

“Sure—I mean, no. You can use mine if you don’t think it’s gross.

“It’s gross, but I’d rather not have bad breath. Haha.” She pulls the cutest sour expression, followed by a long pause. I strain to hear her muttering. “In any case, my mouth was on your dick—does it matter if I have my mouth on your toothbrush?”

Wow.

Wow, wow, wow.

“Uh…good point? My toothbrush is…” I lean into the bathroom, reaching for the closest drawer. Yank it open. “Here.” Hand her the blue toothbrush, along with the toothpaste. “All my shit is in here and on the top shelf in the closet behind the door, like towels and stuff.”

“I love how you say stuff. It’s so cute.”

I laugh—she’s so weird. “How do I say it?”

“I don’t know, like, stuuf. I can’t describe it. All I can say is that it’s adorable.”

Oh. Well in that case. “Stuff.”

Charlie shifts on the balls of her feet. “Give me five minutes.”

“Duh! Sorry.” I back out of the room, pulling the door along with me. “Knock if you need me.”

I hear her laugh through the door as I lean against it, back pressed against the wood. I cross my arms and ankles, standing vigil like a guard. The water runs. The toothbrush gets tapped on the sink.

I try not to hear her pee, but it’s impossible—the walls are thin, and the hall is quiet, so I’m relieved she doesn’t take a dump. I’d never be able to look her in the eye otherwise.

The toilet flushes.

While Charlie is washing her hands, a door at the end of the corridor opens and out walks Carlos. We regard each other, and both his black eyebrows shoot to his hairline.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He doesn’t mince words.

“Waitin’.”

“For what? Since when do we wait for someone to finish taking a dump to use the bathroom?”

A laugh escapes my throat. “I have a guest.”

I didn’t think it was possible, but his brows shoot higher. “A guest? Is it the cutie who was here carving pumpkins?”