One night stands are tricky.
Especially when there aren't any condoms involved.
...
Stila: the 24-year-old college graduate still living with a roommate. A gay roommate.
She works as an assistant for her asshole billionaire boss, who's 50 a...
"Want some water?" Theo asks him, his eyes filled with lust.
Before the cute gay dude answered, I cut in saying my goodbyes. "Well, it's 7:26, so I'm just going to wait for Clyde downstairs. Be safe, you two."
"Bye Stila baby, have fun... but not too much fun," Theo yelled after me, shutting the door and probably resuming the activities he was doing before I interrupted.
Going down the elevator, I felt nothing but excitement. Usually, on first dates, I'd be a nervous, ugly wreck.
Not this one, though. I mean, we've already had sex. We've already contributed to making a little human being.
What could possibly go wrong?
As the elevator door dinged, so did my heart. The doors opened, revealing Clyde holding a bouquet of flowers.
He was dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a white button-up shirt. He looked delicious, with his hair looking naturally messy.
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"I was supposed to be coming up to you!" He exclaimed, with a disappointed look on his face.
"Sorry, my roommate was getting ready to Christianize our kitchen. I thought I should get out of there before witnessing a real life porno scene."
He laughs and runs to the main desk, whispering something to Frank before handing out the bouquet of flowers. They disappeared behind the desk, and Clyde ran back to me, holding out an elbow and gesturing for me to take it.
Smiling, I took his elbow and we began our journey to his impressive black sports car.
"Have I told you how beautiful I think you look, yet?" He asks, opening the passenger door for me.
"No, but you just did," I say and giggle, scooting my bottom across the seat.
Running around the car, Clyde got into the driver's seat and started his engine.
"So where are we going?" I ask him, playing with my loose hair.
"It's a surprise," he says back, his blue eyes focused on the cars in front of him.
Throwing my head back in frustration, I focus on the traffic as well.
The car was filled with silence, but not awkward silence. A comfortable silence. We were both contempt in not talking, and just thinking.
As we started itching our way outside of the city, I became nervous he was trying to kill me.
"Hey, Clyde. If you want to kill me, you could've done it in the city. You don't have to go such lengths to do so," I say, letting out a nervous laugh.
Clyde ignores me, the only sign that he heard what I said was a faint smirk on his perfect mouth.
After 15 minutes of dead silence, I decided to turn on the radio. I put the pop radio station on and Clyde groaned, changing it the oldies hits.
