Page 17 of Use Me Up

Shit. I feel bad for him. I mean, he was probably in a bad place because of Calliope, I guess, and I don’t know how much of that is his own damned fault, really. But I’d have to be made of stone not to feel sympathy for someone who was hurting. I reach out and rub his shoulder.

He glances at me.

I pull my hand back, and now I can feel that I’m the one blushing.

“You ashamed of what you let deflower you?” And now he’s grinning, teasing me.

“Oh, whatever. It’s very obvious that virginity is made up, because it’s not even a thing, clearly.”

He coughs. “I deserved that.”

“I didn’t mean it like an insult,” I say. I’m getting up off the couch.

“Where are you going?”

“To pack clothes, like you said I should,” I say.

“Oh, so you will come home with me?”

“Yeah,” I say. “But I’m driving my own car.”

“That’s good, because I didn’t bring my car here last night. Saves me having to get another Uber.”

His house is a twenty-minute drive out of town. It’s not exactly in the country, but he’s on a lot with big fences and lots of trees, and even though there are houses on either side and behind his, it feels really private out on his back porch.

The house is very respectable. It’s not a huge mansion or something, but I realize he’s done all right for himself. I certainly can’t buy anything like this. I’m still relying on my parents.

It’s two stories. The master bedroom and the bath take up pretty much the entire upstairs. There’s one other small bedroom up there, but he hasn’t made it into a bedroom. It’s an exercise room with weights and a treadmill.

Right, I guess if he wants to look like that, he must have to work for it.

Downstairs, there’s another bedroom, but it’s not set up like a bedroom either. It’s a den with couches and bean bag chairs and a big TV with some gaming console in there. I only can see it’s supposed to be a bedroom because of the closet.

“You don’t have a guest room,” I say, unsure of where to put my things.

“I don’t,” he says. “I didn’t think about that. Maybe I should have. Even just if someone needed to crash or something if I invited someone over and we drank too much.” He rubbed his chin. “But I want you in my bed, anyway, and you don’t mind.” A pause. “Do you? How not-okay are you?”

Why does he want me in his bed? Does that mean he’s going to… with me again tonight?

“Or, like, maybe you’re sore? I seem to remember with, um, with Callie—”

“Oh, my God, shut up.” I go upstairs and dump my duffel bag full of clothes in his bedroom. It’s a very typical guy bedroom. The bed is huge. The comforter is black and silky. There’s a dresser on one wall and literally no other furniture in the whole enormous room and also nothing on the walls.

He’s behind me. “Look, it goes without saying that you have the right to withdraw any and all consent at any time.”

“You’re an omega,” I say looking at all the empty space, all the bare walls. “Do you not nest?”

He laughs. “It’s downstairs. You want to see?”

“You have a nest in this house?”

“I’m an omega, and it’s my house, and fuck yes, I have a nest.” He grins, heading back down the stairs, motioning with his head for me to come with him.

“This is a lot of house for just you,” I call after him.

“Well, like I explained,” he throws over his shoulder. “I grew up with one tenth of a trailer to call my own, so if I can have space, it feels like luxury.”

The nest is very small, tucked behind the den room. It has low ceilings and twinkly lights and a bunch of throw pillows and all sorts of soft blankets. I also see that there’s lotion in there, and… are those magazines? “Is this, like, your jerk-off room?”