I swear my intentions were pure. I truly meant to let Dylan down easy.
But then he arrived at my doorstep in gray sweatpants that perfectly outlined his bulge, carrying presents—flowers and a bullet vibrator—one of which I prefer far more than the other.
Rejecting a magical dick and a magical sex toy requires self-restraint that I don’t possess. At this moment, I’m glad I didn’t say no.
I came before we even started fucking thanks to my new, bright pink, vibrating friend, and now, he’s thrusting into me and whispering how beautiful I am into my ear.
Noticing that I’m trembling and clawing at the sheets, Dylan murmurs, “Come for me, Autumn.” As always, that does me in.
Euphoria rolls over me, capturing me in a wave of bliss while I cry out and arch my back into the magical man fucking me.
“Oh, Autumn,” Dylan groans. In seconds, he falls over the edge as well, letting out a weird grunt.
Panting, he collapses on top of me. I allow him to stay there for a minute before I tap his back a couple of times and inform him that I have to pee to stay UTI-free.
He always laughs at that rhyme, which is one of the reasons I’ve kept him around, but today, I’m the only one who finds myself funny.
Dylan pulls out and slides off, wearing a strange pout.
When I return to my cramped bedroom, his expression hasn’t changed—another odd development. Instead of grinning like a fool, ready for round two, he’s wrapped in a blanket, hugging his knees.
“You okay?” I ask.
“I need to tell you something.”
My stomach freezes over.
“I slept with someone else over the summer. I’m so sorry, Autumn. I promise it didn’t mean anything.”
The confession spills from his mouth so quickly it’s practically one garbled word.
“Oh. You had me worried there.” I laugh. “I thought you were going to say you have an STD or something.”
His scruffy jaw drops, revealing pearly white teeth. “You aren’t upset or jealous or anything?” he asks incredulously.
I smile to prove that I’m not upset or jealous or anything. “No. As long as you wrap it up, I don’t… You used a condom, right?”
He nods.
“Yeah, then all good with me,” I conclude.
“You really aren’t mad?”
He’s starting to sound pissed, drawing out his speech rather than smushing the sentence into one mega-word.
“No.”
“Not at all?”
“No.”
“Seriously, Autumn?”
I should be the one asking if he’s serious.
I told him that I don’t care multiple times. I’m not about to suddenly start caring just because he asked me to confirm it once more.
“Seriously. I mean, I wish you told me before we fucked so I could ask if you were safe and used a condom and stuff, but you did, so it’s all good.”
I pause because his mouth is still wide open in surprise, and I physically cannot handle the unnecessary confusion much longer.
Sighing, I decide to spell it out. “Why would I be upset over that? We aren’t together. You can fuck whoever you want. Just don’t give me a disease and I’m fine.”
“How can you be so coldhearted?” he snaps.
His blue eyes flash as he scoffs, “We’ve been sleeping together for six months, and you don’t have any feelings for me.”
Finally, he’s starting to understand. “Yes,” I confirm.
“I can’t believe you,” he mutters.
I should have accepted the vibrator and left him with the flowers on the welcome mat. “We agreed that this was just sex,” I remind him.
“Yeah, it started as sex. You seriously think it’s still just physical?”
I mean, yes.
That’s the point I’m trying to make. Instead of telling him that, I channel my inner Rachel Jean Quincy, AKA Mom, and show this poor, perplexed boy some kindness.
“It isn’t just physical. We’re friends too. I like what we have going on, but I think we have different perspectives on where—”
Dylan springs from the bed, flaccid dick wobbling around in indignation.
“I don’t understand you, Autumn. I really don’t. How can you be intimate with someone for six months and not feel anything for them?”
“I just told you that I care about you as a friend,” I point out.
He shakes his sweaty head angrily.
“I was prepared to beg on my knees for your forgiveness because I drunkenly hooked up with someone over the summer. I was a wreck all last month, thinking I made a mistake and lost you, but you don’t even care.”
My retort bursts out before I can remind myself that this isn’t the time. “I mean, if you want to get down on your knees…”
He tugs on his clothes, cursing when he can’t find the armhole in his tee.
“It’s like you don’t even have a heart. I was falling in love with you, Autumn.”
I choose not to address the love declaration because it’s in past tense, thankfully.
“Dylan, two minutes ago, I had a cold heart, and now, I don’t have one at all. Make up your mind.”
He wants the last word, and I don’t care enough to challenge that. Not my fault he doesn’t understand the concept of casual sex.
When he slams the door, I whip out my phone, in need of a second opinion.
Leigh, my best friend from back home in Colorado, always tells me like it is, which is why I need her insight on this matter.
Leigh gets me. This is why I put up with her lack of punctuation in texts.
I can live with being lukewarm-hearted.
“Dylan is upset,” Grayson informs me.
Casey and I sigh in unison.
She doesn’t understand me as well as Leigh does, but this is our second year living together, so she knows me better than most.
Also, being my roommate means she has more details on my sex life than anyone besides myself, the poor thing.
“I told him it was just sex,” I mutter.
“She did,” Casey chimes in.
She wasn’t a relationship person until Grayson the Great Buffoon came along, so she sees where I’m coming from.
Her dumbass boyfriend shrugs, obviously unable to think of an argument.
Grayson introduced me to Dylan, his best friend, when he and Casey started dating. He’s probably pissed that we have an awkward dynamic now, not that I’m particularly worried about the hardships going down in Grayson-land.
After all, his bestie is the one who threw a tantrum, not me.
“Gonna find a new fuck buddy?” Casey asks.
I shrug. “I think it’ll be a hookup type of semester. I don’t really have time for anything else with classes and my internship.”
A hookup type of semester involves meeting guys at parties and fucking them once. Bonus points if they don’t stay over.
I like to sleep all spread out in starfish formation, and I can’t do that with a man in my bed.
“What about Adam?”
I let out a slightly exaggerated groan. Casey is forever trying to set me up with her friend Adam.
We hooked up once last year, and she thinks we’re soulmates, even though we both agreed it was a mediocre fuck and we’re better as friends.
“No chemistry,” I remind her.
“But think of the double dates,” she says with a sigh.
“They’d be boring because we don’t have chemistry.” Casey opens her mouth to argue, but I barrel on. “Besides, he’s a bigger hoe than I am. He isn’t into monogamy either.”
“You were monogamous with Dylan,” Grayson argues.
Casey snorts.
“Grayson, please don’t text Dylan about me in front of me,” I politely request.
He shrugs, mumbling, “Sorry.”
Not even thirty seconds later, my phone vibrates. Text from Dylan. Big surprise there.
He did fuck me. Quite often and quite well.
He doesn’t respond, probably because I made a good point.
“Alright.” I sigh. “I’m going for a run. See you guys later.”
I lace up my sneakers and leap out of the apartment, craving fresh air and solitude. The only thing worse than an idiot is a preachy idiot, and that’s exactly what Grayson Waters is.
Angsty punk-pop music fills my ears as I jog down the sidewalk. I love jogging and all the endorphins it releases.
I’m not exactly athletic—I have my dear mother to thank for my clumsy genes—but I can go a couple of miles without stopping.
Just as my stress starts to drift away, something heavy slams into my shins.
I stumble forward, flailing my arms to grab onto something—anything—for dear life. Safety evades me, and I crash down onto my knees.
My scraped skin hurts badly, but I can’t even be that upset about it because I just tripped over a dog.
Not just any dog. A fluffy, happy Shiba Inu.
Standing, I brush the gravel from my stinging knees and whip my head around in search of the owner.
“I’m sorry about her,” booms a voice from close behind me.
I jump, startled by the proximity.
“I’m sorry I ran over your dog,” I reply. “Like, literally ran over.”
The owner grins, bending down to scratch the tripping hazard behind her ears. “She gets excited when she sees people running. No idea why.”
This guy might be dumber than Grayson, but at least he’s hot. I gaze into his hazel eyes and solve his mystery. “She probably wants to run with them.”
“That was my theory too, but whenever I try to take her running with me, she sits on the sidewalk and refuses to move.” He shakes his head. “Anyway, are you alright? Do you need a Band-Aid?”
I peek down.
My right knee is dribbling blood. “Uh, if you have one, that would be great.”
He pulls a dark leather wallet out of his pocket and takes out a perfectly unwrinkled Band-Aid from inside. “Is this the right size?”
It is.
“Do you keep those on you all the time?” I can’t help but ask.
He nods. “Yeah. I’m clumsy, so I tend to injure myself once or twice a week. It’s easier this way.”
Never mind. This guy is much smarter than Grayson.
“That’s brilliant. I should probably get myself a stash,” I comment.
“Highly recommend,” he replies, grinning. “I’m Maddox, and this is Clover.”
“Autumn.” I stick out my hand.
He shakes it, and something crazy happens.
My entire body lights up from grasping this guy’s hand. Based on his wide-eyed expression, I think he’s experiencing the same.
“Sorry if this is weird, but could I maybe get your number?” he blurts out.
“Yes,” I reply, thoroughly confused. I feel his gaze on me as I enter my number into his contacts list, and suddenly, I’m all hot and bothered.
“I’ll text you,” he says, out of breath, even though he isn’t the one on a jog.
My lips tug into an involuntary smile. “Sounds good.” I have no idea what to do next, so I just scamper off, unable to shake the tingles from my chest.
