Page 38 of Too Sweet
AISHA'S MOANS, TOBY'S GROWLS, and the bed slamming against the wall wake me up a few minutes past midnight.
Again.
Toby spent the weekend here, and judging by the size of the bag he brought yesterday, he won’t leave anytime soon.
Aisha’s not known to keep her men around longer than a night or two, so Toby might be a keeper. In her book, more than one night is grounds for a happily ever after. All the more that Toby already was in her bed.
Andhewasthe one to call it quits last year.
I stuff two earphones in my ears, starting Nico’s playlist to drown them out and get some sleep. I’m not mad at him anymore. I dissected what happened, taking the evening apart on a molecular level. I overanalyzed every second and realized not only was his reaction normal and justified, but his anger meant he was disappointed.
Maybe he likes me.
Therealme.
I’m catching at straws, but I can’t stop thinking about him, no matter how hard I try.
“Go” by Delilah plays in my ears, hitting all the right nerves and lulling me back to sleep. Nico has great taste in music—nothing rowdy, loud, or heavy.
The next time I wake up, it’s bang-on six in the morning, the house perfectly silent.
Half an hour later, showered and dressed, I enter the kitchen, where Toby’s making himself at home, brewing coffee in nothing but a pair of gray slacks hanging low on his hips. His colorful tattoos dance across his muscular back with every move.
“Morning,” he says, smiling like the cat that got the birdy as he pushes a cup my way. “I love Mondays, don’t you?”
“If I had three orgasms, I’d probably love Mondays, too.”
He swallows a large gulp of his steaming coffee. It must hit the wrong pipe, and he breaks into a coughing fit. “You heard, huh?” he wheezes, coughing some more. “Sorry, we thought you were asleep.”
“I was, but my sister would wake the dead. Don’t look so mortified. I’ve had years to get used to this. Aisha’s always been a screamer.” I take an apple from a fruit bowl on the counter, snapping off the stalk before biting in. “And you’re not the quietest, either.”
An expression of bemused horror spreads across his face, and he parts his lips, but Aisha’s voice cuts him off.
“That’s why I bought you those cool headphones.” She appears in a short silk robe, rising on her toes to kiss Toby’s lips, the scene R-rated when she slides her hand to his groin, making him jump back. “So you won’t eavesdrop.” She looks over at me. “While we’re on the subject of noise pollution, we’re inviting a few friends over on Friday for board games. Either make yourself scarce or get a playlist ready.”
“Since when do you play board games?”
Aisha shrugs, stealing Toby’s coffee. “Since I’m dating a nerd. Toby here is a D&D king.”
“It goes to show how much you know about D&D,” he says. “They’re called masters, not kings, and I’ve never played that. I hear it’s fun, though.”
Aisha shrugs again, utterly disinterested. “Whatever you want to play, as long as there are shots and a tiny chance we’ll get bored and hit the club, I’m game.” She shoots me a stern look. “I’d ask you to join us, but I know it’s not your thing. You’d be bored.”
I wouldn’t. I’d probably have a better time than she would, but what’s the point in arguing?
My good mood sinks like a stone flung in a river. “I’ll stay out of your way.”
Aisha never wanted me to spend time with her friends, fighting Dad to the bone whenever he said she had to take me to the movies with her. Any other day, her blatant ‘I don’t want you around’ would fly over my head, but today I’m disappointed. Nico will probably be here on Friday, having fun one room away while I’m locked in my bedroom.
“Alright, good,” Aisha chirps, shoving a travel mug Toby filled with coffee into my hand to silently send me on my way.
???
“Time’s up, kitten,” Brandon hollers, entering the auditorium. “Deal or no deal?” He strolls closer, smiling at Blair, who sits a few rows down.
“No deal,” I reply, leaning back to increase the distance between us after he stops a mere foot from my desk. “Should I expect you not to ask permission next time?”
“Alright, alright,” Mr. Finch says, entering the room, wearing his signature no-nonsense expression. “Settle down, everyone. Brandon, unless you want to repeat freshman year, I suggest you get out of my class.”
