Page 13 of Extra Thick

“Cory,stop.”

Cory laughs again, then starts coughing. “Sorry. You know I’m just jealous, right? I haven’t gotten laid in ages. And it’s been even longer since I’ve hooked up with a guy with a huge cock. How big is Alden, exactly? Are we talking longandthick? Or—“

“Cory! Jesus!”

“Okay, okay! I’ll stop.” Cory snatches a fresh tissue from a box on the kitchen counter we’re standing by and noisily blows his nose. “I apologize. I get weirdly horny when I’m sick. Seriously, though, Sasha…what the hell are you going to do?”

As soon as he asks me the question, I realize that I was secretly hoping that Cory would give me some kind of incredibly sage advice about what I should do. But of course I’m the only one who can make that decision. It’s up to me to figure it out.

“I have no idea,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck. “I can’t imagine telling Alden yes and leaving my life behind just like that. But I also can’t imagine giving up whatever this is that we have.”

“So suggest a long-distance relationship.”

I shake my head. “The man doesn’t even own a phone.”

“Okay. How about telling him that if he wants to be with you,heneeds to come toyou?”

“Not going to happen. He hates city life.”

“Right. Hence the living-in-the-middle-of-nowhere thing.” Cory balls up his tissue and chucks it into a nearby trash bin. “I dunno, Sasha. That’s a tough one. Sorry. If I were you, I think I’d just enjoy it while it lasts. And by that, I mean ride Alden’s cock until you can’t walk straight.”

I groan. “Why I ever talk to you aboutanythingis beyond me.”

“Hey, you want a drink? I’m gonna make myself a hot toddy.”

“No, I’m good. I need to get going, anyway. I’m sure Alden is wondering where I am.” I gather my bag and start meandering toward Cory’s front door. “Think you’ll be at work tomorrow?”

“Probably. Kristina’s been emailing me all day about stuff.”

“Hey, thanks a lot for warning me about that drive up to Alden’s, by the way,” I say, giving Cory a dirty look as I step out of his apartment.

He just grins at me in response. “You survived, didn’t you? Besides, look at what you got out of it.”

* * *

Ten minutes later, when I unlock the door of my own apartment and push it open, a cloud of mouthwatering scents welcomes me in. I step out of my flats and pad into the kitchen, where I find Alden at the stove, a flimsy dish towel thrown over his burly shoulder as he cooks dinner for us.

The sight of him like that just about charms the panties off me.

“Hey, angel,” Alden says, his voice warm and deep as he steps away from the stove to kiss me hello. “Sit down. Food’ll be done soon.”

“It smells delicious.” I peer around him with curiosity. “Did you make meatballs?”

“Yup. Saw you had all the ingredients on hand, so I figured why not.”

“That’s thoughtful of you.” I drop down on a stool on the other side of the kitchen bar. Before I can say anything else, Alden pours out a glass of wine and sets it down in front of me. A timer goes off a second later, and he steps away to turn it off. My kitchen is so tiny and he’s so big that he can cross the length of it with a few steps.

“How was your day?” he asks as he drains the water from a pot of spaghetti.

Although Alden continues to prepare dinner as I tell him about my day, I can tell he’s actually listening to me and not just nodding along. That’s the thing about Alden—as gruff and demanding as he can be, he’s also incredibly attentive. I’ve loved having him here. Sure, he barely fits in my tiny studio and he refuses to go out, but he also keeps finding ways to spoil me. This morning, when I was getting out of the shower, I reached for my bath towel and found that it was warm and fluffy; Alden had thrown it in the dryer downstairs while I was washing my hair.

There are a thousand reasons why it’s going to suck when he leaves.

And, eventually, hewillleave. I don’t know how long he’ll be able to stand being here, but I can’t imagine it will be for long. Sooner or later, he’ll give up trying to convince me to go with him and go back home all alone. The mountain is where Alden belongs. It’s hisplace. I mean, he literally told me that he couldn’t imagine living the rest of his life anywhere else.

Maybe Cory is right. Maybe it’s better to just enjoy this little love bubble that Alden and I are in before it bursts.

The spaghetti-and-meatball dinner Alden makes for me is simple but feels like a feast, and by the time he’s clearing away our dishes, I’m happily full. I’m plopping down on my two-seater couch when Alden comes over with bowls of chocolate chunk ice cream, sliding one into my hands as he sits down next to me.

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