Worth the Wait (Sexy Nerd Boys #1) (5 page)

Abby

Tomorrow night I’ll be able to sleep without smoking pot,
I promise myself as usual. A light knock at my door nearly makes me jump out of my skin. Before I can have my stash safely stored away my door cracks open. When I see it’s Ethan I glare at him.

“It’s polite to wait for a response after you knock before entering a woman’s bedroom,” I admonish him. My skin tingles as he shoots me a lopsided, not even mildly apologetic, smile.

Suddenly I realize I’m alone with Ethan in my bedroom. I probably would’ve realized this more immediately if my brain wasn’t so foggy from the pot. My heart kicks into overdrive and my lungs constrict. 

              “Has anyone ever told you that you have a real fetish for rules associated with knocking on a door?” He quips.

I let out a forced laugh, doing my best to hide the fact that my hands are shaking so badly I actually drop my stash box as I try to shove it under my bed.

“Besides if I had waited then you would have managed to hide your stash of pot before I could catch you and make you share with me.” He plops down on the bed next to me and waves at me to pull my box back up.

My body tenses. He’s in my bed. I start to scramble away but his hand wraps around my bicep. I wrench it away and glare at him.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” I hiss.

Surprise and guilt fill his ice blue eyes and he puts his hands up in surrender.

“I’m sorry Red. I only wanted to hang out and smoke pot with you. I’ll go.” He starts to get off the bed and the panic in my mind starts to clear.

“Wait,” I take several deep breaths and pick my box up off of the floor where I’d dropped it.

I promised myself that I wasn’t going to be that person anymore. I can’t let the fear control my life. He can’t hurt me. I won’t allow him to hurt me. I continue to breathe deeply until my heart rate finally returns to normal, and then I force a smile.

“Getting high with a philosopher, this should be interesting.”

I pass him a joint and my lighter. He stretches out on the bed next to me and suddenly my king size bed feels way too small. He eyes me wearily for several seconds like he’s waiting for me to flip out again.   

              “Are you okay?” He asks after a few tokes.

              “Why wouldn’t I be?” I snip rolling a second small joint for myself.

              “It just looks like you’ve been crying and you kind of freaked when I sat down. If you want to talk I’m a great listener,” He offers.

              “I don’t want to talk about why I was crying. And, I just needed a minute to calm down, you startled me. We can talk about something else.” I offer.

No point in pretending I wasn’t crying, I’m sure I’m a mess.

“So, lay some philosophy on me.”  

              He takes a few more tokes with a pensive look on his face.

              “I guess the major philosopher who really speaks to me is Jean Paul Sartre. He’s an existentialist with this philosophy that morality is subjective. The one thing you can do that is truly wrong is to do something in ‘bad faith’, which basically means doing something you don’t believe in just to please other people.”

His words pierce my heart. If I’d only been true to myself and stayed away from Justin to begin with who knows what kind of person I could be today. I may not have to be so damaged.

“I like that,” I say quietly.  

              “So, why no boyfriend?” He asks smoothly. I can’t help but roll my eyes.

              “Because having a boyfriend is the pinnacle of life? If I’m single it’s definitely not by choice right?” I snap at him.

              “I didn’t say that Red.”

              “Stop calling me Red,” I gripe, taking another toke. “I’m single because my last relationship was bad, and ended badly. I needed time to get to know myself. Now that I know myself better, I don’t think I trust men and I certainly don’t need a man. I’m doing great on my own. I’m better than I ever was before.”

              “Do you want to talk about it?” He asks.

I shake my head sharply. I already said more than I usually do.

              “No, why don’t you have a girlfriend?” I counter to get the spotlight off of myself.

              “I don’t do commitment,” He responds vaguely.

              “I know, Lee told me. I’m asking why.”

              “It just isn’t my thing.”

              “No, I guess that’s obvious.” I blow out a thick puff. “You’re more of a smooth talker. You’re a guy on a mission to get into every girls pants.” I accuse.

              “That’s true. Although, I’m not trying to get in your pants, I’m just trying to get into your stash... at the moment.”

I nod.

“Fair enough.”

Getting into my stash I can handle.

However…Would fun, casual sex really be the end of the world? A gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach tells me that it wouldn’t solve much. I probably wouldn’t be able to go through with it anyways.  I sigh and fall back on my pillow.

              “I guess that’s your prerogative,” I say and then start laughing. Prerogative...funny word.

              “Everyone just needs to do what works for them and everyone else needs to mind their damn business,” He agrees.

“Like how Lee should just admit that she likes girls?” I say with a laugh. Ethan laughs too.

“Exactly. I am going to throw a party when she finally comes out of the closet.”

“Why is she scared?” I ask.

“Our parents are religious. Like, crazy religious. And, while Lee doesn’t believe the bullshit they fed her, I think she’s just worried that people in the world will treat her the way they did about it. Fuck them though, she needs to be happy. I don’t care who she dates as long as they treat her with respect and make her happy.”

“I second that.”

Ethan rolls towards me. There are several inches between us but my heart still speeds up.

“So seriously though, why are you so afraid of commitment?” I ask stupidly.

This is a dangerous subject in my bed, alone, in the dark.

“That is a question left better answered another night Red,” Ethan jumps out of my reach before I can punch him for calling me ‘red’ again. “Good night, don’t let the bedbugs bite.”

The bed feels cold and empty now that he’s gone. But I fall asleep much better than usual with a smile on my lips.

Ethan

              I force myself to leave Abby’s room and head back to my own apartment before I do something I’ll regret. I’m feeling too out of control and all I can think about is tasting her lips. I’m so fucking horny and normally I would just go find a random but all I can think about is Abby.

I collapse on my bed and unzip my pants. Abby’s apples and cinnamon scent still lingers on me from laying in her bed. I can just imagine what her breathy little moans would sound like as I bury myself inside of her.

I think back to the night she told me she’d never had an orgasm before. God I want to be the one to give it to her. I want to feel her tight pussy pulse around my cock as pleasure rips through her. I stroke myself thinking about her sexy fucking mouth. I would give anything in this whole damn world to feel those sexy lips wrapped around my cock.

              “Fuck,” I groan as release thunders through me. It’s fucked up that I can come harder just thinking about Abby than I ever had with my cock inside any other woman.

Abby

             
“You are such a dumb bitch, do you know that? Or are you too dumb to even know how dumb you are?” He taunted cruelly.

              “Justin, it was nothing. I was waiting for you and he approached me. I told him I had a boyfriend. End of story,” I defended myself. I was hanging on to the passenger door for dear life as he accelerated dangerously. “Please slow down.”

“Don’t ever fucking tell me what to do. I saw the way you were looking at him and now I’m going to take you home and remind you who that tight little pussy belongs to.”

My stomach churned at his words.

I wish he would fucking die.

I sit bolt upright in a cold sweat. I hate that particular dream the most. The dream where I remember over and over again how I wished he would die. My last thought before the truck hit us was a wish for his death.

I’m not crazy, I don’t think that I somehow magically summoned a careening truck with my mind. But, I also don’t think that good people wish for another person’s death. And even fewer are relieved when it comes true.  I reach for my phone to check the time and find a text message from Ethan.

Ethan: I have an emergency…

I smile as I curl up in bed with my phone in my hand. It’s early still but the message just came through about ten minutes ago. Ethan must have work early today to be up at 7am.

Abby: This better be an impending zombie apocalypse

Ethan: Actually you were right about the planet of the ape’s thing. We’re gunna be taken out by pissed off apes any minute now.

Abby: You’re a dork

I can’t help but smile. In spite of how closed off and bitchy I can be, nothing seems to chase Ethan away. I need to chill the fuck out already and let him in a little.

Ethan: Have a good day and watch out for apes ;)

Abby

              I’m fairly certain I’m causing my spine permanent damage carrying around five tons of books around campus all day.

I’m taking a lot of rough classes this semester and if the classes don’t kill me the books certainly will. Lee told me this morning she would be working after class today and wouldn’t be home until late. So I have the apartment all to myself to study for several hours. Not that there’s too much to do, being the first day. But, I’m anal like that. I love to get ahead in classes so when it gets hard I’m already on top of the material.

School work is my mental sanctuary, it always has been. I got a 4.0 in high school because burying myself in homework and books took me to a different place. When I’m writing an essay I’m not the girl who’s been abused, I’m just another student. When I’m studying and focusing my mind on memorizing facts and making mental connections with all of the material, I don’t have time to be pathetic. Also, like with my kickboxing, the outcome is a direct result of the amount of work you put in. No surprises. School is simple, unlike life.

I pull out my microbiology book and start reading the chapter that we’re going to be covering next week.

The one good thing that came out of that accident was a big settlement from the company that owned the truck that crashed into us. I don’t have to worry about money. I got more than enough to not need student loans and to be set for at least a few years after college while I work my way into a good job. I know I’m lucky and that makes me feel all the more guilty. I wished for Justin’s death and he died. Now I’m reaping the financial benefit. It’s fucked up when I actually think about it.  Even if he was a shit boyfriend.

“Justin please, I’m not ready,” I begged him as he pulled out a condom and stalked toward me.

He didn’t acknowledge my protest as he began unzipping his pants.

“Justin, listen, I said I’m not ready.”

“Jesus, Abby, I’ve waited long enough. I’ve put up with all of your bullshit and your half-assed blowjobs. You owe me this.”

He pulled my shirt over my head and unbuttoned my pants.

I stopped fighting it. I learned it didn’t help to try to fight the blowjobs either. If I closed my eyes it would be over soon.

I tried to think of something else as he positioned himself between my legs. Terror settled in the pit of my stomach. I couldn’t think of a single way to get out of this. He was going to take my virginity one way or another and there was no way for me to stop him.

“Justin, please don’t,” I begged one more time.

He drove into me unceremoniously. I gasped at the sharp pain and uncomfortable fullness between my legs. I tried hard to hold back my tears but I couldn’t. I know he saw that I was crying. But, that didn’t seem to bother him. When he finished he told me to go clean myself up. I sobbed silently as I sat in his bathroom and wiped the blood from my thighs, the last evidence of my virginity being washed away.

I shake my head to try to fling the memories out of my mind. I wish there was some way to wipe all of my memories away for good.

It’s six o’clock by the time I put my books away and decide I’d better think about dinner.

Ethan bursts into the apartment with the ever present grin on his face as I’m making mac and cheese.

“You hungry?” I ask.

He looks surprised that I’m offering him food but nods after a moment of hesitation.

“Thanks,” He says before plopping down on the couch.

“How was your first day of class?”

“Boring,” I say with a shrug. “Probably the same as yours. Syllabi and boring stuff all day.”

“Yeah, the first day is always a snore,” He agrees.

Ethan puts Sherlock on Netflix and we fall into a comfortable silence as we both dig into our mac and cheese.