Page 84 of Can't Text This

Thirteen

Monty

“Son of a biscuit eater…”I mutter as I try to wrap the sheet around my upper body and hold it in place while peeing at the same time.

What a time to be modest, Monty.

It feels like there’s so much pressure sitting on my bladder that I can’t pee—either that, or it’s because I know Robbie’s on the other side of that door.

Naked.

Waiting.

We just had sex. I’m not a virgin anymore.

What did we just do? What didIjust do?

That was the most un-Monty-esque thing I’ve ever done, and I loved every single moment of it. My body’s still buzzing from the orgasms. I’m so greedy that I want more—a lotmore.

With Robbie.

The thought causes me to pause. Other than the small stinging sensation when I pee, the slight pinch of pain between my thighs, and muscle soreness like I’ve just run a 5K, I don’t feel any different. All the tension I’ve been harboring since I met Robbie hasn’t subsided in the least. In fact, it’s worse.

There’s no way I could possibly walk out his front door right now and never want to look back.

“You okay in there?” he asks through the bathroom door.

“Y-Yeah,” I tell him. “I’ll be out in just a sec.”

“Good, because it’s fucking cold as tits and you took all the blankets.”

Smiling, I listen as he pads back across the bedroom, the creaking of the mattress telling me when he crawls back onto the bed.

The one we just made love on.

A sigh slips out and I slap my hands to my cheeks, feeling so giddy and silly and high-school-ish.

I just had sex!

With a ridiculously hot guy, at that.

A guy who’s waiting for me to get back out there and—

My stomach sinks.

Does he want me to leave? Is this it? We’ve done what we set out to do. Does that mean we’re done? Because I don’t want to be done.

I also don’t know how to tell Robbie that without sounding like a clingy moron.

Ugh.

I finish up my business—finally—and use a washrag from under the sink to clean myself up as best I can.

Wrapping the blanket around myself again, I inhale a steadying breath and walk back into Robbie’s room.

I try not to frown when I notice he’s slipped on a pair of boxer briefs.

“I was going to sexily lounge naked on the bed, but I really am fucking cold,” he tells me like he can read my thoughts. “Get over here.”

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