You kept yourself busy over the week that followed your vacation- after your phone call with Joel, you'd barely had time to think about him.
A group of your childhood friends were in town, so you'd taken the opportunity to catch up with them. When questioned about your love life, you brushed it off, saying that you were in a dry spell.
You almost loved the fact that Joel was your little secret, but part of you was sad that you'd never be able to just be with him. Your dad would never allow it- in fact the two of you would be in serious trouble with your father if he ever found out.
But that's what made it so exciting.
A little over a week after you'd come home from the beach, you'd had a date set up, but this time it was with someone new. Not your shitty, cheating ex, and not the guy you couldn't be seen in public with- but a guy you'd met on Tinder.
He was just a year older than you, played sports, owned a nice home, had a dog.. he seemed perfect. Part of you couldn't stop comparing him to Joel, though.
Tinder boy (Scott) had set up a date at a nice restaurant, and he'd planned to take you out to his favorite bar afterwards. It was such a nice change for the man to take responsibility and plan a date.
The two of you had planned to meet at the restaurant at seven, and you had spent half of the day preparing- shaving, exfoliating, waxing, you name it. This was probably the cutest boy you'd gone out with in a long time- he was tall and muscular, his face was clean shaven.
Not as good looking as Joel, who was taller, who's mustache made your panties wet...
"Fucking hell," you cursed at yourself. You had not been able to keep this man off your mind, even as you got ready to go on a date with a perfectly respectable and attractive man.
The drive to the restaurant was pretty short, so you decided to head in early and get a table. You'd pulled out your phone and texted Scott that you were already at the restaurant when a waitress greeted you. You ordered two waters as you waited for him to arrive.
After thirty minutes and several check-ins from your waitress, Scott had still not showed up. You decided to step outside to call him.
A warm breeze hit your legs and you tugged on your dress, pressing your phone to your ear. The call immediately went to voicemail, and your heart sank.
He'd stood you up.
Tears welled in your eyes. You'd put on one of your nicest dresses and spent hours preparing for this date, just for the asshole to fucking not show up.
Tears streaming down your face as you made your way back to your table, profusely apologizing to your server, explaining what happened. You closed out your tab (which consisted of three waters and a side of calamari) and tipped twenty dollars, leaving as quickly as you could.
Your plans for the night were so thrown off- you were not expecting to leave dinner in tears. You drove around without any destination in mind, when you realized you were close to the bar you'd planned on going to. Without giving it much thought, you pulled into the parking lot.
The inside of the bar was not too packed, so it wasn't hard for you to find a spot at the bar. You ordered a whiskey and coke and pulled out your phone to distract yourself.
After three drinks, you started to feel the whiskey kicking in, making your head feel like a cloud. You ordered a fourth, and the bartender laughed, jokingly asking if you'd had a rough night.
You decided to delete Scott's number (only assholes are named Scott anyways- you decided) when you saw the conversation between you and Joel.
Joel. He would fix all of your problems right now.
Without thinking, you hit call, and waited for him to pick up. It was only around 9 o'clock, so it was no surprise when he answered pretty quickly.
"Hello?" It sounded like more of a question than a greeting.
"Joel," you slurred. "You will never guess what kinda night I've had."
Without missing a beat, he lowered his voice. "You're drunk."
Another sip of your drink. "Yep."
He sighed, but not an angry sigh, it was more of a concerned sigh. "Where are you baby? I'm comin' get you."
"No! I'm fine I just- I got fucking stood up Joel."
He was silent for an awkward amount of time, and you'd almost thought he'd hung up. "Joel?"
"You went on a date?" Was that a hint of jealousy in his voice? Joel Miller, jealous? Surely not.
"Um, no. Cause he didn't show up. Remember?"
Another sip.
"Tell me where you are. I'm picking you up and taking you home."
You sighed, a little more dramatically than necessary.
"I'm at Pop."
It almost sounded like he laughed. "That shitty overpriced college bar? Yeah I'm pickin' you up. Do not leave, you understand?"
The authority in his voice made heat pool in between your legs.
"Yes sir," you said playfully, just before he hung up.
Your heart fluttered at the thought of Joel coming to your rescue. It wasn't even a big deal, you weren't that drunk. But if it meant Joel coming to your rescue, you wouldn't argue.
-
After what seemed like an eternity, you finally saw him. There was a worried look drawn across his face that slightly disappeared when his eyes landed on you. He looked like sex on legs.
He'd worn a green t-shirt and his usual blue jeans, and a pair of dusty cowboy boots. If there was no one else in the bar you would've jumped his bones right then and there.
His face was stern as he walked up to the stool you sat at, signaling the bartender. You thought he was ordering a drink, but he slipped his card across the counter and pointed a thumb at you. "Close out her tab for me, thanks."
You swatted his arm. "Joel Miller, you don't have to-"
The look he shot you told you to shut up before he even had to.
After he payed and tipped the bartender, he grabbed your arm and led you to his pickup. As you walked past your car, you whined in protest. "What about my car?"
"We can get it tomorrow."
He opened the passenger door and helped you into his truck.
The drive home was pretty quiet- you couldn't tell why, but you knew Joel looked pissed. You could see the muscle in his jaw twitch every time he drove under a street lamp.
He jerked his truck into park and you looked around, confused.
"Joel, this is your house."
"Yup."
You were drunk, but not drunk enough to know that it would look bad if he brought you in his house at night, while you smelled like whiskey and wore a revealing dress.
"But what about Sara?"
"She's gone for a few days. Just get out of the car."
Again, there was a tone of anger. It was kind of hot. You hopped down, bracing yourself into his arms so you wouldn't fall.
He whisked you into his house, locking the door behind him. You half expected him to rip your dress off as soon at the door was shut, but instead he sat you down on the couch.
"Wait here."
He was gone for a few minutes, and he came back with something tucked under his arm. "Picked out the smallest one, might still be big on you."
He handed you a black shirt with the name of the college he went to printed across the front. It smelled exactly like him.
"Bathroom's down the.. well, you know where it is."
His face was a light shade of pink as he stuffed his hands in his front pockets. "I'll uh, let you go get dressed."
The alcohol must've given you a huge confidence boost, because if it weren't for the five (or was it six?) drinks you'd had, you would've never done what you did next.
"Or.." your voice trailed off, and you stood up, pushing the straps of your dress down your shoulders. You tugged the dress down the length of your body, revealing your underwear- a matching bra and panty set in black lace.
Joel's eyes darkened, but he didn't move. You tossed the dress the the floor and stood up. Stepping on the tips of your toes, you stood under him, looking up into his eyes.
A beat passed, and you looked at his lips, then his eyes. His lips were so fucking soft and pink, and his eyes devoured you hungrily. His hand flew up to your jaw, wrapping his fingers around the back of your head. He pressed his lips to yours, and your tongue found his. He walked you into the couch, lowering you on your back and picking your leg up, which you wrapped around his back.
The kiss was so eager, and your hands raked his back. You dug your nails in, surely leaving marks in his skin. You could feel his dick hardening beneath his jeans as he pressed into you. He broke away for a moment, and you moved your lips to his neck, granting a frustrated moan from his throat.
He pulled away, leaving you puzzled. "As much as I'm enjoying this, we have to stop."
You sat up with a harsh frown. "What? Why?"
He brushed a strand of hair away from your face. "I can't fuck you when you're drunk, baby. This ain't the way our first time should be."
You were so unbelievably turned on by your make out session that you didn't care. "Joel it's fine, you know how bad I want this-"
He placed his hand on your thigh. "Answer's no. I'm gonna put you to bed, and we'll talk about this in the mornin'."
You could've screamed- this man had denied you of an orgasm so many times it was frustrating. "Fine." You huffed.
Joel let you take his bed, even after many protests from you.
He let you put his t-shirt on before he tucked you into his bed. He sat on the edge, smoothing your hair down. He watched you for a moment, and when he was sure you were asleep, he planted a kiss on your lips.