Eight comes horribly fast. I cut my alarm and look over at Randy, still out cold. His full lips are parted, his tattooed arm thrown out to the side. There’s a hockey scene captured on his forearm, and a Toronto emblem, as well as the one for New York. It’s still too dark for me to make out the rest.
I leave him where he is and tiptoe to the bathroom. My hair’s a mess. I look like I’ve been boned from here all the way to the North Pole. And not freshly either—in a used well and ridden like a cheap hooker kind of way. I also smell like a big, huge pile of sex. I take a quick shower and call a cab. I don’t want to wake Randy up to have him drive me in.
I put on my crappy jogging pants and hoodie, thankful that I have a spare skating outfit in my locker. There’s nothing I can do about the lack of underwear, since I forgot about washing them, but I’ve dealt with worse issues.
I pack my bag in a rush, knowing I’m cutting it close. I debate whether or not to leave without saying goodbye. I decide I don’t want to. I wouldn’t like it if Randy did that to me. Although I’m a girl, and we’re different.
I creep around to his side of the bed. My plan is to whisper a goodbye and thanks, but I note the tented sheets at his waist. He’s asleep with a hard-on. I lift the soft cotton carefully, but I’m disappointed to find he’s got his boxers back on. It’s like the damn Loch Ness monster. Everyone says it’s real, but they’ve never seen it to prove it.
I reach under the covers, ready to sneak a peek, but Randy snatches my hand. “If you want it, all you have to do is ask.” He pulls me down and rolls on top of me.
“I was saying bye. I have to leave for work.”
He nuzzles his face into my neck and gives me a couple of humps through the sheets and my clothes. “No. Don’t go.”
“I have to.”
“I wanna fuck some more.”
I laugh. He’s all groggy and uncoordinated—aside from the hip grinding. That’s very coordinated. “I called a cab. I have to leave, like, two minutes ago.”
“I’ll drive you in.”
“You’re not even conscious.”
“My dick is. He’ll drive.”
I push on his chest, but he’s not budging. “If I’m late I could lose my job.”
He stops grinding and rolls off me. “Now I have to deal with this alone.” He pats his hard-on.
“Just go back to sleep; it’ll go away.”
“What time are you done?”
“One, but I work a shift at my other job at four.”
“I’ll come get you.”
“Don’t you need to go back to Chicago?”
“I’ll fly or something.” He shoves his hand down the front of his boxers. “See you at one, luscious Lily.”
“Whatever you say, raucous Randy.” I turn to leave.
“Wait.”
“Hmm?”
He taps his cheek lazily. “I wanna kiss before you leave.”
I lean over and plant one there, then drop another on his lips. “Thanks for all the fun.”
“Anytime.”
***
Since he was half-asleep when I left this morning, I don’t really expect him to show up at my work. So when he arrives at eleven-thirty with coffee and a bag and sits in the stands, all the butterflies in the world take up residence in my stomach.
We had an insane amount of sex. I’ve never in my life used an entire box of condoms in one night. Three, maybe, but never more than that. All my muscles ache, but the pain isn’t something I mind.
At the end of the lesson, I skate over to Randy. He looks fresh, cleaned up, and a whole lot less disheveled than I did this morning. “I brought you something.” He passes me the bag.
I take a peek inside. “You bought me clothes?”
“I figure we only have a couple of hours before you have to go to work, and you’d want something fresh to change into. I guessed at the size. I know your dress was a four at the party.” He jams his hands into his pockets.
A guy remembering a dress size seems epic. “That’s sweet, but you didn’t need to do that. I have my work clothes. I was going to change into them.”
“Well, I thought I could take you out for lunch, since that didn’t happen yesterday.”
“You don’t want to go back to your hotel?” I’m sort of being cheeky, sort of not.
“I had to check out.” He rolls back on his heels. “The backseat of the Jeep is spacious, though.”
I can’t tell if he’s being serious. One of the parents comes over to ask me a couple of questions, and of course, another mother recognizes Randy and starts freaking out. She’s got to be almost forty, and she’s definitely undressing him mentally. I know the look. Lucky for me I don’t have to work to imagine him without clothes. Well, except for one part.