Page 74 of Two Guys, a Girl, and a Tripod

“I have something I need to tell you,” she whispers.

“Something worse than having never had sex at the age of 30?” I ask with a breathy laugh. I guess now that I’ve admitted it, I can laugh about it. Funny how quickly things can change.

“Maybe.”

I lift my head, searching her face for a sign.Ok,nowshe’ll tell me she’s married.

“No judgment,” I say, despite the worry reforming in my stomach. She doesn't speak. “Are you already breaking up with me?” My tone is light, but I know she sees the fear in my eyes.

“No,” she says quickly, her grip on my hand tightening. “No, I just need to tell you I’m…” She bites her lip before continuing, her words staggered as they fall from her lips. “I’m seeing someone else. It’s not serious, just one date so far. But I needed you to know.”

I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. How many men ask her out on a daily basis? She could date a new guy every week, hell, everydayand it would take a lifetime to work through the list. I blink at her, trying to keep my expression blank.

“Oh.” I sound like a fucking moron.

She studies me with a frown. I know it’s not the response she wanted, but what do I say? What do I do? I admitted my secret and she didn’t run. Sophie is worth the fight.

“Oh?”

“So I have competition?” I smirk, trying to remain confident. Her body relaxes in my grip.

“I guess you could say that.” A smile creeps across her lips.

“Ok.” Telling her I’m up for the challenge would be a lie, but I’ll give it my best shot. If nothing else, I’m more determined than ever to make up for last week.

“Well, that was easy.”

A nervous laugh escapes her. I drag my hand from her waist up to her cheek, cupping her face. My other hand turns in hers and she grips my wrists.

My lips crash to hers, releasing every bit of pent-up worry and need into this one kiss. It’s unlike anything I’ve shared with anyone before, even her. Frantic and demanding, I decide to take control–something I’ve been wanting to do since I watched her walk into that brewery just over a week ago. Using my tongue, I part her lips and she complies, allowing me to explore her mouth. She moans into me and the sound causes my dick to instantly perk up. It’s not a new feeling–I’m human–but this is the first time I’ve felt the freedom to act on it.

I move my hands back to grip her hair, holding her tightly to me. I turn us so that her back is against the counter and her hands fall to my waist, to steady herself, to pull me closer. I drop one hand from her hair to caress her neck, her shoulder, her upper arm. I want to feel every single inch of her silky skin beneath my fingers.

When I break the kiss and pull away, we’re both panting. I’m still pressed against her and I know she feels what the kiss has done to me pushing gently against her stomach. I’m not sure what she wants, if I should continue to take control. How the fuck do I ask?

“Sophie,” I breathe, my lips ghosting over hers before I trail kisses down her chin to her jaw, continuing to the point where it meets her neck. I’m not sure why I do it, but I gently graze my teeth over her skin. Goosebumps erupt beneath my hand on her arm.

“Tell me what you need.” Her voice is half whimper and I feel her squirm slightly, but not in an attempt to escape. “What can I do?”

I pull my lips from her skin, dropping my forehead to the crook of her neck. I can’t think straight anymore. She’s intoxicating.

“Sophie, I-I don’t-” A frustrated grunt slips from my throat. I raise my head far enough to see her whole face. Her pupils are dilated, her lips swollen and parted. “I need-” My voice cuts out. “Fuck,” I whisper.

Sophie reaches up, gently stroking my temple, running her fingers into my hair. I lean into her touch, closing my eyes momentarily. When I open them again, I see that the fire in her eyes matches exactly what I’m feeling. It alleviates any last shred of doubt–at least for the time being.

“I need you,” I choke.

Sophie’s grip on my waist tightens.

“Not to put a damper on things,” she whispers with a grin. “I want to, but-” She bites her lip and it hits me.

“Testing!” I shout, startling both of us with the volume. We never discussed it, but that has to be what she wants. “Sorry. I, er, yeah. I got tested last week. I can pull up the results.”

This is quite possibly the weirdest thing I’ve ever done. Stopping ourselves from tearing each others’ clothes off to pick up our phones and share test results–not something I’d considered having to do. I make a mental note to thank Miles tomorrow for making me go last week.

Satisfied with my results, she shows me her proof, hiding her stage name from me. I wonder if she’ll ever let me see her videos. The idea of her being with someone else feels odd, but I suppose it could also be exciting.

“Now that I’ve sufficiently ruined the mood,” she giggles, setting her phone on the counter. I set mine next to it.

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