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“Why?” I snap. “Why can’t you wait and see them in a group? Why do you need their number? What can they really do to help?” I fire at him. There’s no need for him to have men’s numbers. I’m here if he needs help. I can help him.
“Uh, I don’t know. I suppose if I’m having a bad day with Bex.” He shrugs.
“I’m here though, you know that. You can message or call me?”
He smiles “I do. Oh my god, it’s been so long since I’ve had one of these. Do you mind if we stop to get one?” He gestures to the shop in front of us called Candy Shake. With a glowing face, Brayden gazes up at the sign. And there’s no way I could say no at this moment.
“Sure.” I nod as we walk in. Brayden orders some weird milkshakes. It seems that you can choose any candy you want for these milkshakes, and they blend everything together. I hadn’t even heard of half the candy Brayden asked for. I opted to keep my teeth from rotting and didn’t get one.
When he gets it, there’s a generous amount of ice cream on top, with a multitude of rainbow sprinkles.
“That looks like a sugar rush in a cup.” I laugh.
“It’s so good!”
“What are those?” I point to the sweets on top.
“Nerds Clusters.” He takes one with his teeth and crunches into it, saying. “My favorite.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” I roll my eyes, smirking as we exit the shop. Once we reach the car and get in, he requests me to hold his shake while he fastens the seatbelt. I study at the clusters on top while gripping the drink in my hand.
After fastening his belt, he smirks and teases, “I can tell you’re curious to try it.”
I’m not going to lie. I give in to temptation and lick the melting ice cream, gathering a few clusters. I notice Brayden’s eyes following my tongue as he swallows visibly. The ice cream is enjoyable, but I have to close my eyes when I bite into the cluster.
“Fuck they are sour.” I blindly put the cup out in front of me for Brayden to take the cup and he howls out laughing. I open my eyes. “That’s gross, Brayden. What the fuck.”
My laughter can’t mask the persistent sour taste in my mouth. Observing Brayden lick the same spot while never breaking eye contact ignites an instant, undeniable response as my dick begins to swell. I snap my eyes away and turn the engine on, making sure I don’t let my gaze meet Brayden’s again. I fear if I do, the next image I will get is him licking the ice cream off my dick.
As we approach campus, Brayden, who I need to remember to drop off at Pythons, breaks the silence.
“What are your plans for the rest of the weekend?” I can’t shake off the thought of the decision I made earlier, and I’m unsure why I feel awkward telling him. It’s true, I do likeBrayden, but there are countless factors that continuously yank me out of the imaginary world I seem to inhabit whenever I’m in his presence. He’s my student, he’s nineteen, I would lose my job and Denny. Oh, and there’s this other thing—I have no idea what’s going on with me. Is this a moment that has just happened? Is this feeling going to last forever? Will I develop an attraction toward men now? Am I still attracted to women? That’s what had me texting Ms. Banksy last night after I had wrapped my hand around my dick and came for probably the tenth time to a picture of Brayden, asking if she fancied dinner and drinks tonight.
“Uhh, I—um, have a date tonight.” I quickly utter the remaining words and stay focused on the vehicle in front of me.
“With who?” Brayden’s voice isn’t angry, but it’s not exactly cheerful either. I steal a quick glance at him as he maintains a blank expression while staring at the milkshake.
“Ms. Banksy,” I mutter. Without uttering a word, Brayden simply gazes out the window. In a matter of moments, we park outside Pythons.
“Thanks for today. It was appreciated.” In a hurry, he gets out of the car, turns, and stoops down to say, “Enjoy your date.”
There’s clear anger in his eyes. I’m struggling to find the right words to tell him that I’m feeling scattered and need to sort things out. Brayden slams the door with excessive force, causing me to wince. I observe him walking toward a trash can, where he disposes of the nearly full milkshake before walking away with slumped shoulders and a lowered head.
My stomach sinks. A sudden wave of sickness washes over me as I come to terms with the fact that I’m responsible for his sadness. Why didn’t I keep my mouth shut?
Chapter twenty-five
Brayden
Fuck him.Punch.
Fuck him and his sexy as fuck ass.Smack.
Fuck him and his beautiful as fuck smile.Wack.
Fuck him and his meaningless fucking words.Thump.
Over and over again, I unleash my frustrations on the bag in front of me. The rhythmic thud of my fists against the bag echoes my inner chaos. I’m confused about why he’s going on a date with Ms. Banksy after the way he looked at me. What have these last couple of weeks been about?
