Page 41 of Rookie Moves

“Yeah. I mean, yeah, but not like…” I wave my hand aimlessly through the air like I’m hoping the words will appear in thin air, like on a teleprompter or something, so I don’t have to say it out loud.

I clear my throat again, and my words come out in a rush. “We did things. Like he jerked me off, and I jerked him off, and we jerked ourselves, together at the same time, and now there’s a party at his house tonight, and I may have mentioned wanting my next lesson tonight…”

She presses her lips in a straight line, but it doesn’t stop the corners from curving upward.

“Did you enjoy it?” she asks after a beat.

I nod. “Yeah, I did. A lot.”

“So, just see how things go. He’s not going to make you do something you’re not comfortable with, and maybe sneaking off at the party will add a bit of spice to the mix.”

I bare my teeth in an awkward grimace. “Will you come with me?”

She snorts. “As much as I would love to be your wingwoman so you can come all over your teammate, it’s not a group activity, and I have an 8:00 a.m. class tomorrow morning that I don’t want to experience on a lack of sleep.”

I scrunch up my nose. “Do you have to say it like that?”

Stassie leans forward and swats me on the knee with her ruler. “Don’t be such a prude, Colby. I bet he’d love it.”

My mind races back to this weekend when I came all over his hand while he jerked me off. The way he looked up at me with those dark, lust-filled eyes, and the way his hair fell around his face, making him look disheveled and thoroughly fucked.

The heat in my cheeks becomes an inferno, and I hate how Stassie can read me so easily.

“Oh, you already did,” she says gleefully, and when I look up, she’s sporting a wide smile. “This is such an exciting development!”

I scowl. “You’re so annoying.”

“You’re so cute,” she counters, swatting my bare knee again.

“Will you knock that off,” I grumble, rubbing away the sting with my palm.

“No,” she giggles, then goes to swat me again.

I snatch the ruler from her grip and put it behind my back. “You’re not getting this back until you help me.”

“Help you with what, boo?” Stassie cocks her head to the side, a sympathetic smile forming on her mouth as she suggests, “Only you can decide what you’re ready for. Maybe you should skip the library and have some downtime to give yourself time to think about what you want from tonight.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m going to be heading out soon anyway because I have class, so you’ll have the floor to yourself. How about this? You stay here and do what I suggested, and I’ll bring back one of those chicken pasta bowls you like.”

My spine straightens slightly in interest at the sound of my favorite lunchtime snack.

“With the Parmesan on top?”

“Obviously. Is it illegal to have pasta without Parmesan?”

“I don’t know,” I mumble. “Maybe?”

She cackles. “I was joking, boo. Now, give me back my ruler, and get out of my room. You have studying of the X-rated variety, and I don’t need to be a witness to that.”

Huffing out a breath, I hand over the ruler and stand from her bed. I leave her room and head out to the small kitchenette to make breakfast. The dorm building we live in consists of eight rooms across four floors. Each floor has their own private bathroom, a small living space, and a kitchenette equipped with some storage space, a fridge/freezer, microwave, and air fryer. As much as I wanted to experience college life, the thought of going into shared dorms brought on some anxiety I wasn’t ready to face. Maybe it’s because I’ve isolated myself for so long, but I knew I needed my own space. So when I found this building was an option, my parents helped pay for it, and it gave me the privacy I crave, mixed in with living with someone completely new.

I’m lucky to have been paired with Stassie because she’s made my time at Whilton U all the more enjoyable.

Grabbing my protein mix from the cupboard, I prepare my shake before making my oats. While it’s cooking in the microwave, I peel a banana, ready to chop into my oats.

I stare at the fruit in my hand, the way my fingers curl around it, and I’m hit with the image of my hand wrapped around Tyler’s cock. He’s bigger than I expected him to be. Maybe it’s because I’ve only ever caught glimpses of him soft, but in all the fantasies I used to have about him, he wasn’t as big. As thick.