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"Language, Fal, seriously," I groan. "And you know that's not true."
"Oh my god. I can't believe you told Colleen you were sucking his dick. You are my fucking hero," she proudly proclaims.
"What can I say?" I sigh as I plop down onto the couch, grab one of the beige decorative pillows and hold it against my chest.
"Can you imagine, though?" Fallon hums. "Wrapping your mouth around his cock. It's probably massive. Makes me wet just thinking about it."
Can I imagine?
Uh, yeah.
Will I admit to it out loud?
Nope.
Never.
"I'm pretty sure he'd let me if I offered," I tell her.
Yesterday, he made it very clear he thinks it's going to happen while we walked back to his car. Then, when he drove up the icy hill because I was still too shaken up from Mrs. Henderson's ordeal to contend with the snow and ice, his fingers lazily intertwined with mine in my lap. I didn't make a big deal about it, didn't say anything. I'm pretty sure he caught the smile I was trying to hide from him, though.
Fallon inhales sharply on the other end of the line. "You should do it."
"Ew," I scoff, pretending to be disgusted. "Definitely not going to happen. And anyway, I wouldn't even know what to do."
"It's not that hard," Fallon informs me, matter-of-factly. "Just treat it like an ice cream cone. Lick and suck like it's gonna drip down the cone and melt onto your hand at any moment."
"Thanks for that...visual," I cringe as Fallon starts explaining, in detail, her very first time sucking some guy off.
The doorbell rings and I hop up from the couch, tread across the cream-colored carpet to the front door, still listening to Fallon's very descriptive experience. I sneak a peek through the peephole, see Matt on the other side of the door.
"Hey, Fal," I say into the phone. "I gotta go. Matt's here."
I unlock the door and swing it open.
"Get that dick, girl!" Fallon yells as Matt's brown eyes come into view.
I'm pretty sure Matt heard her from the way he raises a judgmental eyebrow at me. Embarrassed, I quickly hang up the phone and step aside to let him in.
"Do I even want to know what offensive things she was saying now?" Matt shakes his head as he brushes past me, his tawny hair falling across his forehead in waves. I want to reach out and run my fingers through it, brush back the fallen locks from his face.
But I don’t.
I take a moment, slowly close the door before I turn around and face him. "She was just explaining how not to give a blow job."
Matt's hazelnut eyes widen in surprise, and he shoves his hands into the pockets of his black joggers, clearly unnerved. "Why are you guys even talking about that?"
I shrug nonchalantly. "You never know when an opportunity might present itself."
He swallows hard, a flash of anger crossing his face. "I don't think you should be giving anyone a blow job."
"Why?" I place a hand on my hip, challenging him. "Maybe I want to."
Matt narrows his eyes at me. "I thought you had some morals."
"That's rich coming from the guy who bet me to take my top off," I snap at him.
There's a long pause as we both eye each other, the tension building between us. It's almost suffocating, the way the truth of what we are, what we'll never be, hangs over us.
