High Tide | Mature Ed Sheeran Fanfiction

High Tide | Chapter 3: I've Never...

Several days later..............

"You are cheating! You were meant to land on Kentucky! You are done for!!!" Ed was shouting, hysterically, like a child.

I pouted, throwing my arm out, the last sip of wine sloshing up and out the side of my glass. "Fine! Take my money, Sheeran, you dirty dog!"

"Happily, love, hand it over!" He cheered. Oh god, he was a sore winner. Not that I was a sore loser, at all, nope.

"Fuck it, Teddy, pour me another glass, that was humiliating," I said, defeated and a little buzzed.

"Again: happily, love – hand it over," He was giggling at his own joke. Oh, Ed. He climbed out of the worn leather chair and approached me, hands stretched out. I passed him my feeble stack of Monopoly money and empty wine glass.

His hand brushed mine in the transfer, sending tingles down my spine. How pathetic, Kendra, a single in-passing touch, really? The last several days had been absolute torture. In an effort to revert back to our "take it slow" mantra after that first sleepover, we had been denying ourselves the pleasure of each other's..."physical"...company. It had become quite the fun game, actually. But after more than a couple glasses of wine, and a few days of seeing only a clothed Teddy... I was overdue.

Ed returned with my refreshed glass of cab, and sat back down across from me. I sighed and looked around, taking in the scene: we were sat in my office; floor-to-wall bookshelves filled to the brim, outlining the whole room. My oak writing desk, facing outward toward the large windows overlooking the shore. Ed & I, tucked up in the corner, in matching quilted leather chairs; a small table in front of us, littered with monopoly pieces and blueberry muffin wrappers.

"So, what's my prize?" He asked, grinning devilishly.

"Um, you get to choose the next game?" I was not prepared to offer up anything good as a prize.

"Okay... how about, truth or dare?" Groan.

"What is this, junior year in high school? Oh, wait..." I giggled, knowing full-well he had left school by then. Damn, had he missed out on some real rites-of-passage.

"Don't poke fun!" He laughed. He was looking seriously charming in a pair of old sweats, a plain white tee shirt, and a black baseball cap.

"Fine, fine. You beat me, fair and square. We'll play. You go first."

"Okay, love... truth...OR....dare?" Lord help me.

"Easy. Dare."

"I dare you to... dance, for thirty seconds.

Well, shit. "Do I at least get music?" I asked, hardly believing I was even going to agree to this.

"Yes, love. Of MY choosing, however," he said mischievously.

I loved that he was taking this seriously, and not 'letting me off easy', but I was so not looking forward to this dare. I had seen some videos online of Teddy dancing in da club, and that was much hotter than what was about to transpire.

"HA! Yes. How about, 'My Chick Bad' by Luda?"

"Thirty seconds, right?"

"I'll time it. Scouts Honor," He held his first two fingers up. I didn't have the heart to tell him he was missing one. Poor Brit.

"You're going to pay for this, Sheeran."

"I'll queue it up," he fiddled around with his iPad.

"My chick bad, my chick good, my chick do shit that yo' chick wish she could..." sang out.