Page 77 of Beautifully Conflicted

“You’re already a panting, sweaty mess and you want to do more after this? Sure that ankle can handle it?”

“Since I’m thinking of an activity that’s more horizontal in nature, yes. I think my ankle will be just fine.”

“Fuck,” Bennet swivels his head around to double check no one can hear us.

“Exactly.” I shoot him a mischievous grin.

“When we agreed to this secret hookup thing, I didn’t know you were such a cock slut. How often do you think I can get away to fuck you?”

“Daily.”

Bennet rolls his eyes, but since he’s fighting a grin, I know that’s just for show.

“When’s your birthday?” he asks.

The ankle brace keeps me steady despite a little stumble. “What? Why?”

“I want to know.”

“Are you planning to get me a dildo shaped like your dick?”

“I wouldn’t even know where to start.” This time his eye roll is not ironic.

“You order a kit online, take a mold of your cock, and send it back. Easy peasy.”

“I’m not sending a mold of my dick through the mail.”

“Fine.” I sigh dramatically, just to ruffle him. “The real thing is better, anyway. So, workout after the workout, yes?”

“Answer the birthday question first.”

“Next week.”

Bennet halts abruptly. “Shit, really?”

“Yes.” I turn to face him while jogging in place. “Now you better get moving or Coach is gonna think we’re not ready to get back on the field.”

We run in silence for about a hundred yards before I can’t take it anymore. “Why did you ask about my birthday?”

“Can’t I just want to know something about you?”

“Yeah, but why that?” I duck under a branch that was partially snapped from the last snowstorm. “Why not ask what my favorite food is, or my favorite movie?”

“Fine, what’s your favorite food?”

“You can’t steal my question, come up with your own.”

“I did, and you got all weird about it.”

“It was a weird question.”

“Says the guy who once asked me what dogs dream about,” Bennet mutters under his breath.

“That’s a perfectly valid question to ask a dog person.”

“You didn’t know if I was a dog person.” He gives me a playful nudge with his elbow. It doesn’t knock me off balance, but I pretend it could have.

“Are you trying to take me out? It’s only my first day back from this sprain.”

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