Three Stries

I want to thank Oldnakeddad for taking the time to edit this story. Any errors are likely the product of my need to tweak.

Also, I wanna shout out to the Finer Things Club: Mfa607, MrTimTam009, Soft Sighs, AC, Belligerent Bok Choy, Alice, Allen, AwayThrow, Candace, Erin, Laura, MFA607, MKFanatic, Vanessa, SoftSighs, Nina, John, and Nash. Y'all are the best supporters out there.

*****

I hadn't been asleep

nearly

long enough when my phone started to beep at me. It wasn't an alarm, only a reminder I'd set the previous week. I didn't want to forget—not that forgetting was a possibility.

8:30 a.m.:

Go to the clinic and get tested, you barebacking moron!

I hadn't quite slept off my smorgasbord of negative emotions that derived from last night's game, so waking up to that specific reminder was icing on the cake. Only the icing was fondant and everyone knew fondant was fucking terrible.

I threw the covers off and wrapped myself in my fuzzy throw as I made my way to the kitchen to start Nespresso. Coffee had never held any magic powers in my life. I never

needed

coffee in the morning, I simply enjoyed the habit.

Sometimes it was tea, but it was usually coffee because I liked the buzz. Though coffee wasn't magic, it's never stopped me from hoping that the morning routine of sitting at my kitchen table with a hot beverage in my hand would somehow fix whatever was broken in my life.

I didn't feel anything change after my first sip. It was expected, but disappointing nonetheless. I let my mind wander to other things.

I needed to buy toilet paper before I became stranded, which would've been approximately in three bowel movements. Maybe more if I remembered to grab the partial roll from the guest bathroom. However, I would hate to leave a guest stranded and yelling for toilet paper that I probably didn't have (that'd be awkward!), so I simply needed to remember to buy more.

I was also out of Windex and my catwalk vanity was smeared, thanks to the DONNAS' constant usage and lack of cleaning. Oh, and UPS was expected with some new skincare products I'd ordered the other night from LUSH. Skincare made me think of my upcoming date with Shane, which I wasn't sure was still on, which made me think of Shane and the way I stormed off like a child...

My endless thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. I smiled excitedly to myself because,

new skincare

!

I was only wearing boxer briefs and they were pretty scandalous for straight boys, on top of that, my delivery guy was six months away from retirement. I was all about a sexy silver fox except that wasn't an accurate description of Earl (my UPS delivery man) so I re-wrapped myself in my oh-so-soft, fuzzy throw and hustled to the door.

"Hold on!" I yelled.

Skin care, skin care, skin care!

My shower was gonna be a new level of epic.

I have a good relationship with my delivery drivers because I like to keep them happy. A happy delivery driver means my boxes won't end up being kicked around before they end up in my care. Not wanting to keep the man waiting, I quickly opened the door. I took one look at the man standing outside and slammed the door shut as quickly as I'd opened it. He was most definitely

not

Earl.

It was

Shane

. Why was he at my house? How did he get my address? There were the more important things, too, such as the fact I hadn't showered and was only wearing undies and a blanket. Normally my bedhead is manageable because I don't shower before bed and it still looks halfway decent from the day before.

Not now, oh no. I'd decided to shower before going straight to bed. Which meant it dried as I rolled around in my sleep. My hair looks exactly like you'd expect it to look—not good.

A knock on the door broke me from my internal panic.

"What do you want?" I asked as I stared through the peephole.

He looked good standing there casually, with is hands in his pocket, smiling at the door.

"Well, I was hoping we could talk, you know, face to face."

"I'm not ready for visitors. Come back in...one hour." I could feel the ugliness of my hair as I ran my fingers through it.

"Or, I could come in now. I really don't care what you look like," I watched as he silently chuckled, shaking his head in amusement.

That's what they all say until they see the

Bride of Frankenstein

. The downfall of always looking on point is— people rarely see the hideous beast you are prior to the primping. If things worked out between Shane and I—not that I was saying they would, but if they did—it was still going to be a while before he'd see the true me.

"Well, I'm going to shower, first."

"Are you going to make me stand out here the whole time?"

I didn't know the etiquette for a situation like this. I

definitely

wasn't going to let him see me. But, it would've been rude to leave him outside. What about the fact he showed up

unannounced

? That was rude, too. I decided I'd let him in...after I left the room.

"Well," I hesitated, "I suppose not." I thought about it for a second, then continued, "Count to thirty, then come in and sit at the table. There's coffee or tea if you want, or nothing, I don't care. Just count to thirty before you do anything."

"Okay. One, two, three-" he started counting

I took a deep breath and carefully unlocked the door. I was about to run to my room when Shane opened the door, almost instantly.

"

Thirty

!" he yelled.

I wasn't exactly counting along with or anything, but I was

positive

it wasn't anywhere

close

to the standard thirty Mississippi count. It was more along the lines of one-two-skip a few-twenty-nine,

thirty

.

"

What the fuck

?" I shouted as I dashed from the foyer as quickly as possible.

I pulled my throw up so it covered my hair and tightly cinched it under my chin so it was wrapped around my face. Just in case I didn't make a clean escape, I didn't want him to see anything incriminating. I turned the corner and was almost to the stairs, when I heard his steps behind me. He was actually chasing me like a child.

I made it up two stairs when I felt his arm around my waist, halting me from going any further.

"Where are you going in such a rush?" He asked, as if it wasn't obvious to the blind man at the street corner that I as running away from him.

Shane was smirking. I couldn't blame him, though. I probably looked like a goon with the blanket wrapped around my head like a nun. I'd definitely be smirking at me if I was him.

"I'm trying to take a shower. What are you doing?!" I screeched as I tried to wiggle my way out of his grip.

He smiled and his eyes shone with amusement as he took in my 'situation'. The way he was looking at me both pissed me off

and

made me melt at the same time.

"Take the blanket off of your head," he smirked.

The fucking bitch was cray cray! There was no way he was going to see Donovan-all-natural.

"No way. Let go!"

I tried to pull away. I needed to retreat up the stairs, but he was strong and his grip was surprisingly firm, yet gentle. I pulled again and was met with the same resistance. I looked at him with my most threatening look, but the cocky rat bastard was still smiling. He thought this funny. At that moment, I decided I

wasn't

going to change his nickname, even if things worked out—which I wasn't saying it would. Only

if

it did.

"Shane," I half warned, half pleaded.

He used the hand that wasn't pinning me down and tried to free the blanket from my head. I didn't want anyone to see me like this and I wasn't about to let that happen voluntarily. I gripped the blanket tighter under my chin and tried even harder to free myself from his grip. I panicked and started flailing my head around in hopes he wouldn't land a good grip.

During all of the chaos of trying to escape, I slipped on the step and fell backward. The fall was slow, ridiculously so. And since Shane was holding onto my waist, he fell on top of me.

Fall

might not be the right word. Like a leaf falling in the Autumn, his body gently pressed down on mine. I felt his warm hand grip my arm, immobilizing me, while his other hand successfully removed the blanket, unveiling the god awful unmanicured, morning Donovan.

"What the fuck, Shane," I breathed in a panicked voice as my chest raised and fell rapidly. No one sees me like this. Ever.

I used my hands to cover my hair in an effort to minimize my embarrassment. It was all in vein, two seconds later Shane grabbed my wrists and pinned them to the stairs making my eyes widened in shock and humiliation.

One minute I'm safe in my home, running half naked toward my LUSH package. The next I'm being attacked and pinned to the wood staircase.

I wiggled and tried to get up, but he had me completely pinned beneath his giant body.

"

Please

,

let me go

," I pleaded.

My words fell on deaf ears. He was too busy critiquing me. His eyes darted to my hair, my face, down to my chest (that was barely hidden by the blanket), back to my hair, before he repeated the variation a few more times. The playful smirk never left his face as his eyes tormented my body enough to make me squirm. I didn't know what he was looking for, but he wouldn't have to look that hard to see my utter humiliation and embarrassment.

"Please stop?" I begged in a meeker tone.

"You look-"

"Terrible, I know," I whined.

I turned my head and closed my eyes. I couldn't stand watching him watch me anymore. Not knowing what the look in his eyes meant and waiting for a snarky comment to fall from his lips.

"Not at all. You're stunning. Sexy, even."

I jumped when I felt him release me but I didn't have time consider my option before felt his soft, warm lips on mine. My mind was flooded with the memory of our night together and suddenly, I was hungry for more, so much more. Without thinking, I ran my fingers through his hair like snakes in grass and pulled him closer until there was no room left between us. I forgot that I looked like I dried mop and took what he gave me, right there on the stairs. There was a mixture of raw fire and smoldering passion and, if the hardness between us was any indication, neither of us seemed all that upset by it.

He tasted amazing and felt amazing.

Somehow, through the intoxicating pleasure, rational thoughts bullied their way in. I hadn't brushed my teeth, I still looked like a whore after homecoming, and why the hell was I making out with Shane, again? Before we even had a first date. I pushed him back.

"What the hell are we doing?!" I asked in a panic.

I scurried out from under him and quickly tried to cover my hair, again. I couldn't believe Shane broke into my house, manhandled me the way he did, and saw me as I was—not showered and unruly. How

dare

him!

"Have you ever dated someone before? Because you just skipped like, a hundred steps!" I barked.

I saw him smiled before I ran up the stairs and shut myself inside of my room before he had a chance to reply or defend himself.

I walked across the room and I saw myself in the mirror. I looked terrifying. It wasn't just my Albert Einstein hair, oh no. Once I got a good look at myself, I realized the throw blanket wasn't long enough to cover my head while also covering anything below my waist, which meant Shane had a nice view of my barely clothed ass during my retreat. If I hadn't been embarrassed before, I was now.

I took a quick shower and fast tracked everything else; including my post shower moisturizing and hair care regime. Leave it to Shane to ruin my daily routine.

I got dressed and stood by the door for a moment before going downstairs. Everything had happened so fast. I didn't have time to process the fact Shane was at my house, or that I was kind of giddy that Shane was at my house. I was also embarrassed that Shane saw me the way he did. No one ever saw pre-prepared Donovan.

Shane was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking water, and staring out of the window when I finally made my way down. He looked up and smiled as he watched me move about the kitchen as I got myself a glass of water before sitting across the table from him.

There was a silent standoff as we stared at each other, each of us wearing our own little sly smile. His, probably because he saw me looking like trash. Me, because he's really hot.

"Why are you here and causing me trouble?" I asked and his smiled gently, but seriously.

"Because, yesterday, you were upset about a lot of things, including me. I deserve it but I don't like it, so I'm here trying to make an effort to

un

-upset you."

He didn't look cocky, or shy, or smug, he just looked very—matter of fact. We stared at each other for a moment.

"How'd you know where I live?"

"Allé told me. I ran into him after you stormed off."

"Okay. So, what do you want?"

I was being stubborn and I knew it. I might have wanted him to grovel and beg a little more. I looked at him and, with a smidge of frustration in his brows, he narrowed his eyes at me.

"Don't be like that, Donovan. I told you why I'm here. If you're not interested then I'll leave, but don't be coy. I like you but I don't want to waste both of our time if you have no intention of it going anywhere."

Fuck if I didn't feel put into place by that comment. Coy is my jam. I loved the art of a good tease and being coy is a skill I excelled at. He hadn't even seen coy yet.

I drummed my fingers on the table and leaned back.

"Well, firstly, if you have a problem with me being coy, then you

should

leave because that ship is permanently at sea," I shrugged.

Too bad, so sad

.

He smiled and chuckled at my honesty.

"Okay. You can be coy all you want, but

not

during serious conversations."

"Okay, fair enough," I smiled. "What exactly do you want to talk about today? For the record, I wasn't exactly being coy with my last comment."

"Okay," he nodded in agreeance. "So, I wanna know if you're going to be able to forgive me for the things I've said in the past. I can understand if that's hard, but if it's impossible then, obviously there's no point in moving forward. I was acting like a fifteen-year-old boy who couldn't flirt with the cute boy, so he called him names. I hope you know I didn't intend to be malicious. I feel really terrible about it and it felt shitty to have it thrown into my face last night. I'm not saying I didn't deserve it, but I also don't want it to be hurled at me every time you're upset."

"Are you saying you think there's going to be a lot of fights?" I teased. He laughed in return.

"Oh,

hell

yes. I'm not good with words and I'm super rough around the edges. I don't know you well enough, yet, but I

know

I'm going to piss you off and

you're

going to frustrate the shit out me."

I rolled my eyes.

"Stop the sales pitch and sign me up already. Damn Shane, you sure do have a way with words."

Shane smiled his rare, yet megawatt, smile.

"I told you I'm not good with words. So, are you going to be able to forgive me?"

"Yeah, but I'll be honest, it won't be today or tomorrow. Once I can trust whatever you say has merit,

then

it'll be water under the bridge. Until then, I'll be holding you at arm's length."

He agreed and we talked more, mostly about the game; how the other team behaved, how I felt about it, and how Shane felt about it. As it turned out, it hit him harder than expected to see it so blatantly in front of him.

Earl finally came and delivered my box. Shane was curious so I showed him everything I'd bought. He asked a million questions because he couldn't figure out why any dude would need 'all of that shit'. I decided I might look forward to pampering him one day. I'd show him how good it felt to treat yo' self to something with more substance than antibacterial bar soap.

"So, what are you doing, later? I was wondering if you, maybe, wanted to get lunch with me," Shane asked as I put all my LUSH products back into the box.

His question reminded me of the one thing I needed to get done that day. I contemplated telling him about it. I did have to do with him after all. On the other hand, was it going to be awkward to talk about?

Shane misinterpreted my silence.

"Oh. I didn't mean to intrude. We'll keep our plans for tomorrow,

if

you still want to."

Oh, my god, he was so cute when he'd get all shy and timid. I wanted to devour him.

"No, it's fine. It's just, well..."

I handed him my phone, which had a banner with my notification written across the screen. He looked at it, and started laughing. I couldn't believe his reaction.

"Seriously though. I need to go to the clinic and have my blood drawn really quick since I decided to go all

YOLO

and risked my life for...

a piece of ass

" I said. I tried to hide the smirk that pulled the corner of my mouth, but I failed.

"Yeah, but it was a

great

piece of ass! Am I right?"

"Shut the fuck up," I laughed at his overly cocky smile.

"Now who's the one who knows how to sweet talk?" He cooed

I rolled my eyes and took our water glasses to the sink.

"Well, I probably need to go to the clinic, also, since I was with a guy who went all

YOLO

and tossed the condom across the room. I think he was trying to get pregnant, but I can't be sure," he added.

My jaw dropped at his response.

Fucking witty son-of-a-bitch.

"Oh, look who got the jokes!" I teased back.

He smiled but it was mostly at himself because he was so proud.

"Sometimes, yeah. I don't know why but you're easy to joke with, it comes natural."

I was seeing a side of Shane I knew I could really grow fond of and his words were more than just a superficial compliment, and my stomach fluttered in response.

"Well get up and let's go. It looks like our first date is going to be a trip to the clinic for an STD screening. How will you ever top this?"

"I've already

topped

it, so that's old news," he said, popping the 'p's' and 'd' in topped.

I was about to correct him and tell him I meant '

how will you ever top this romantic first date'

, but I realized he just pulled another quick one on me. I looked back and saw him barely holding himself together. He was so adorable when he thought he was being funny, I could've died right there.

"You're about to eat lunch

alone,

with your jokes."

"No, I'm not," he laughed.

"No, you're not," I agreed.

I closed the door behind us and, as I locked it, I couldn't stop smiling. I didn't know what the day would bring, but I had a feeling it was going to be good.

*** *** *** ***

Our conversation was light and good on our way to the clinic—perfect for the first stage of getting to know someone. It was going so well, yet, I had an overwhelming need to change the subject and talk about something that had been bothering me. If I had any tact or sense of preservation, I would've let the whole thing drop, but I didn't.

I turned in my seat until I was facing him and let my eyes wander over him for a moment. He was the most

put together

I'd ever seen him. He was wearing a yellow, orange, white, and grey wool shirt with the sleeves rolled up, which revealed his strong forearms. Seemed a little warm for the summer weather but who was I to judge? On paper, the shirt sounded hideous, but

damn

if it didn't look delicious, especially paired with his auburn hair and worn denim jeans. I had a feeling he didn't buy his jeans worn like that.

"Since we're going to the clinic, I want to clarify a few things."