Page 46 of Fake Dates and Home Plates
“I’m yours, Theo. It’s us. It’s real,” I say while I nip at his lip.
I kiss him hard, too pleased with the way we’ve claimed each other today.
“Good. Now slide my boxers off your pretty legs and sit on my face. I need to clean my girlfriend up,” he demands as he leans back on his pillow with a smug grin.
Girlfriend. I like it.
Chapter Nineteen
Henley
Theo and I make a quick breakfast together in his kitchen.
I scramble some eggs that look mostly edible while he makes me his signature latte. We sit at the small dining table in his kitchen to eat while he gives me a recap of the latest episode of his favorite podcast.
After finishing my coffee, I slip on my skirt from the night before, this time paired with another of his shirts. I think I might start a collection of comfortable clothing that doesn’t quite fit me. Another first for me. I’ve never wanted any sort of trophy from my previous hookups.
“Seeing you in my clothes doesn’t really motivate me to take you home,” Theo says as he wraps his arms around me from behind.
Turning around, I wrap my arms around his waist, surprisingly comfortable with the level of affection he shows me.
He’s wearing a plain shirt and shorts with a pair of tennis shoes. “But I did tell the guys I’d meet them at the gym. I can text you after if you don’t have any plans tonight?”
Placing a kiss on my forehead, he breaks our hold and grabs his keys and wallet from the small table by the door.
“Sure,” I say as I follow him out.
We listen toHudson’s Most Heinouson the drive back to my apartment, and I have to admit, it’s intriguing.
After parking his Jeep, Theo opens the door for me, as usual.
“You don’t have to come up if you need to get going,” I say, despite hoping he will anyway.
Theo mocks a gasp. “Now what kind of boyfriend would I be if I left you to see yourself home?”
“The kind of boyfriend who has given me three orgasms in less than twelve hours,” I answer, deadpan.
He laughs. “Orgasms are not substitutes for genuine affection, Henley. I like walking you to your door. Besides, I get a front row view of your ass, so it’s not a completely chivalrous effort on my behalf.”
I might put a little extra sway in my hips as we climb the stairs, and I’m happy to hear him groan in response.
The smile on my face drops when I see my apartment. Written in ugly black letters, the wordSLUTcovers the entire door. My first instinct isn’t to cuss or cry; no, I’m running to unlock the apartment instead. I need to make sure whoever did this didn’t fuck with my roommate too.
“Lily!” I shout as I rush through the door. Thankfully, the paint seems to be dry, and I don’t get any on me.
“What’s up?” She comes out of the room, looking as if I woke her. “What’s wrong?”
“Our door. Someone tagged it. I was worried maybe they messed with you too,” I tell her.
She comes around the living room to see for herself and rolls her eyes. “Slut shaming. About as original as florals in spring.”
I laugh at the reference.
“Either Dakota’s retaliating for my parents’ glitter dick explosion, or he thinks I’m responsible for his bat.”
It took a couple of days, but he did eventually realize someone had broken into his locker and stolen his lucky bat.He’s posted on social media three times a day with a reward for information.
“I’ll kick his ass,” Theo says as he wraps an arm around my shoulders. “Are you okay?”
