PEACHES [bws]

11. STYLIST

11.

Summer wasn't sure what she was supposed to do with herself now that Brad had left. She cleaned up her counter one, two, three times before showering and getting into her pyjamas.

Her neck tingled as it began to bruise, hickeys showing up lightly on her skin and she didn't doubt that they'd be so clearly purple by tomorrow morning.

She sits on her bed, letting a small sigh escape her lips as she can't help but smile, remembering the feeling of her legs shaking and her body becoming week earlier. She wondered why she made herself wait so long for Brad to make her feel like that.

Her phone pings and she anxiously goes to read the text, grinning when she sees it's off of Brad.

bradley: how are you feeling, peaches?

She looks at her keyboard hesitantly, not sure how to reply. Everywhere was aching but it felt like a nice ache, an ache she could get used to.

peaches: I'm feeling okay. Are you? How's your friend?

Brad couldn't help but admit that he loved how, even after a few hours ago when she literally sat on his face—high he had to admit it was probably the most amazing he's ever felt, and she didn't even get time to please him—that she was still concerned about how he was.

He was scared she would be awkward around him, after their encounter in her kitchen. What if she felt vulnerable or embarrassed that it happened?

He felt stupid for overthinking any sexual encounter with a woman, but Summer felt different, and he still had a challenge to complete.

bradley: everything is ok.

He wished he could ask for some pictures off of her, so that he could finally find some relief, but he knew better than to ask her. Instead he sends her another text.

bradley: go to sleep, peaches. i'll speak to you tomorrow

He didn't get a reply because she was already asleep on her bed, her phone by her head. He put his phone on charge and stood up off of his bed, contemplating just searching up pornhub and wanking off by himself tonight. He didn't do it often, he said it was too easy.

Instead he got himself a cold shower and dried himself off, walking to the kitchen afterwards and getting a cigarette.

He puffs out some smoke, watching it rise to the ceiling with a small sigh. He finishes his smoke before putting it out and leaving it in the ashtray.

He sits on the edge of his bed, his mind replaying the events in Summer's house, and he let's out a heavy sigh.

+*+PEACHES+*+

There's a knock on Summer's door quite early the next morning while she's getting changed into her clothes for the day. She glances through the blinds  of her bedroom window to see who's at the door, surprised to see Brad waiting patiently.

She puts on a hoodie, considering she didn't want to answer the door in just a bra and underwear, before she rushes downstairs to answer the door.

He looks her over, noticing her hoodie stop short on her thighs and wonders if she's wearing anything underneath it. He clears his mind as she speaks to him.

"Hey," she smiles. "Wasn't expecting to see you here."

"Surprise," he grins. "I thought I'd take you to class today."

He wasn't even planning on going to his own lectures today, until he realised that it's the perfect opportunity to spend some more time with Summer.

"I don't start until eleven," she says honestly. "You shouldn't have to three hours to take me. And don't you have a lecture?"