Foul Ball

"I think you probably shouldn't stay here." The words trickled out of my mouth like word vomit, and I almost choked on them. Here I was, lying naked in bed with a guy who was not only charming, handsome, and funny but fantastic under the sheets as well, and the first thing I could think of to do was kick him out.

"Macey," laughed Jayce, his head burrowed face down into one of my pillows. He lifted his chin and turned his head to look at me, and all I could focus on was the way the tendons in his back flexed and tightened with each small movement and the way his round, firm ass silently begged me to grab it and squeeze.

"Why are you laughing?" I asked, yanking the sheet up to cover my breasts. I felt self-conscious suddenly, and I had no idea why. I knew Jayce wasn't laughing at me, and yet I felt vulnerable suddenly like it might actually matter what happened next, and so I had to tread carefully.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't stay," Jayce said with a smile, rolling over to support himself with one arm. I had to try desperately hard to keep my focus on his face and not his crotch.

"Why? Because I am not explaining this to Kylie." I yanked the remainder of the sheet out from under Jayce and wrapped it a few times around me, standing up to face him before I had the urge once more to jump his bones on the bed. Sometime during the fuck-fest my braid had come undone, and now wavy hair fell into my face, staticky and fluffy and probably not attractive whatsoever. But even then, Jayce only smiled. Admired me. Took it all in. And he liked it.

"If you want me to leave, I will respect your wishes and leave," Jayce said, sitting up on the bed so abruptly that I took a startled step back. He put his hands in the air as if to surrender. "However, if your only real worry is your roommate Kylie, I don't think I'm okay with that being the reason I have to leave your side tonight. Besides, I'm having fun. Aren't you?" He dropped his hands then and grinned that sheepish grin.

I couldn't help it. I smiled, too.

"You are one cocky sonofabitch," I said, and this brought a guff of laughter from Jayce. I had almost, almost been convinced to let him stay, but the small voice in the back of my head kept warning me: if I wanted to keep him interested, moving so quickly wasn't going to do that. I was falling for Jayce, and I hated that feeling because I hated feeling so out of control. What if he broke my heart?

I couldn't get attached to him. I wouldn't. Not until I knew for sure that he was absolutely serious about us.

"Macey, do you want me to go?" Jayce asked, and for a long moment, I said and did nothing. I was his girlfriend now, sure, but I was more than a booty call, too.

"Yes," I said quietly. "I think you should go. Not because you did anything wrong, but because I'm trying to hold onto the last shred of dignity I have."

Jayce dropped his chin to his bare chest with a sigh. "Consider me gone," he said, not unkindly. "Though, when we tell this story to our grandkids in fifty years when we're old and gray together, you better not forget that it was you that kicked me out this fateful night."

"Okay, drama king," I teased, but the fact that he'd just thought about the two of us as an old married couple shook me to my core.

It should be so easy.

I watched Jayce as he dressed, fully granting myself permission to check him out every which way from Sunday. I could tell he didn't mind, either, because once or twice he paused what he was doing to raise his arms above his head and stretch his body, leaving me there to drool. Multiple times I wanted to stop him, to throw my morals and self-worth out the door and drop to my knees and beg him to stay because, oh-my-god-those-abs, I wanted to lick them. Once Jayce was dressed and had pocketed his wallet, he turned to me, eyes hungrily scanning my sheet-covered body. The desire in his eyes was evident, and it flattered me, but I knew I had to stick to my guns. It was too early to be so smitten with him. I couldn't lose my head.

"Okay, stop," I whined playfully. "You're going to make me blush."

Smiling, Jayce turned towards the door and reached for the handle, but then he stopped and turned back around. Before I could reprimand him for it, he stepped forward and yanked me into his arms, meeting my lips with his own, hungry, lusting for me. I moaned and kissed him back, knees going weak, limbs trembling, and I was just about ready to drop the sheet from my body and let him take me, over and over again, until neither of us could breathe, think, or walk. But after a moment, he pulled away, taunting me on purpose, leaving me standing there like a love-struck idiot as he quietly opened my bedroom door and stepped out into the hallway. As he began to close the door behind him, he poked his head back in and whispered, "I hope you get blue balls tonight," before vanishing down the stairs and out the door.

"Girls don't have balls," I hissed at his back. Giggling, I walked back to the window and watched him cross the lawn, stumbling over a drain ditch on the sidewalk before climbing into his car to leave. What a dork. What a dorky, endearing, insanely charming dork.

I, Macey Kate Britton, was smitten with a boy who, somehow and for some reason, was smitten with me, too.

And I liked it. I really liked it.

And nothing in the world scared me more than that did.