It's A Deal

2.4 | What Contract?

"I can assure you, none of my dildos have your name."

"Oh." His smirk grows. "Plural?"

I shut my eyes tightly as my face heats up faster than an electric kettle can heat up a tablespoon of water. Why do I keep making it worse?

"Ian..."

"Yes?"

When I open my eyes again, he's directly in front of me, the amused look gone. It's replaced by a look of lust. I'm left stammering.

"Just tell me you don't want me this close and I'll give you your space."

"I– uh... how's your arm?" is my best effort to steer the conversation elsewhere.

He arches an eyebrow as he looks down at his freed arm. He got the cast removed a couple days ago, and he's been making up for lost time. Pushing himself during practice and whatnot.

"It's a lot better, actually. The doctor told me to go easy for another week." His eyes meet mine again as he rolls his shoulder, and I thank the heavens above when he takes a step back. "But we both know that's not happening."

"What do you mean?"

He closes the space between us again. "I plan on carrying you into my room. If you let me, of course."

I shake my head, grabbing his very hard biceps to push him away gently, stepping sideways to go around the couch. We're on opposite ends as I say, "Your dad would kill both you and me if you got hurt again."

"Probably."

"So yeah... we can't." I force out a laugh.

"We can't, or you don't want to?"

I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to go to his room and find out what he plans on doing to me, but my best friend is just a few feet away, unaware of us at the moment. I'd rather not give her yet another thing to tease me with.

So instead of rejecting him, I make an offer: "How about we go on a date first?"

His bright, white teeth make an appearance as he smiles. "Are you asking me out?"

"Maybe," I go along with it, my voice low. "Will you say yes?"

"How could I say no?"

* * * *

"Stay still," Amber scolds, nearly poking my eye out with the brown eyeliner grasped tightly between her fingers. "It's your first official date with him. You need to look your absolute best."

"He's seen me in my ugliest pajamas," I point out, trying my best not to shed the tear that's threatening to ruin my makeup. "I don't see why I have to make this much effort. Besides, I still haven't forgiven you for telling Ian that I named a dildo after him."

She snorts, quickly trying to compose herself when I glare at her through the mirror. "Sorry," she lifts a hand at me. "But you know how I get when I'm drunk."

"Which is why I hate when you drink more than you're capable of handling. I'm the one who takes the hits of humiliation."

"Actually, it's thanks to that that you're going on a date today. So give me some credit."

I scoff and cross my arms. "I'll give you credit when credit is due. I don't think Ian will ever live that false information down. I feel the constant teasing for years to come."

With a quick eye roll that I'm sure I wasn't supposed to notice, she finishes the last touches of makeup and perfects my hair to her high standards. When she's done with me, even I have to do a double take. The girl staring back at me is far prettier than I have ever looked before.