Josh texted me a few times over the weekend. I never responded to any of them because I knew that he wouldn't move on if I didn't nip it in the bud. I'd tried to be nice to him in the beginning, but the longer he tried to win me back, the more I realized I couldn't give him an inch or he'd take a mile.
Saturday night Becca got a text from Penn.
It was the holy grail of texts. We squealed over it for twenty minutes before realizing that she had to formulate a response back to him. He was taking it slow and steady, asking her about her day and how her week of practice had been. I'd explained his situation, that he’d just left a long-term relationship, and Becca seemed more than happy to take it slow.
After twenty minutes of pleasantries, he invited us to a get-together at his house the following weekend.
Cue another half hour of squeals highlighted by a few crazy somersaults from Becca that resulted in her knocking my lamp off my bedside table. Luckily, the glass didn’t break.
"I feel like I'm getting my hopes up about him,” she said as she placed the lamp back on my nightstand.
What an understatement. She was definitely getting her hopes up, but it was too late to change that.
“You’re allowed to be excited, but I’m glad you know that things with him will have to go slow.”
She nodded. “I need to keep reminding myself that he just got out of a long-term relationship and doesn't need me complicating things.”
"He wouldn't be texting you and inviting you to his house if he thought you were complicating things. Just take it easy and we'll figure it out. He seems like a really good guy though."
"What if he just wants sex?"
"Then you have sex with him and lose your virginity to one of the hottest professional soccer players in the country," I laughed. "But no, seriously, we'll figure it out. I'll try and get more intel from Liam. On the bright side, if he just got out of a relationship that means he's capable of commitment."
"Should I Google his ex?" she asked, already leaning toward my laptop.
"No! Don’t search crap like that. It's not fair to them or us. I've wanted to Google Liam a million times, but I know how much he hates when the media makes up fake stories about his life. He'd be so pissed if I was getting my information about him through TMZ."
"Okay, okay. You have a point. I'll treat Penn like he's a normal person... for now."
“Good, Peen is a normal person.”
That earned me a pillow smack.
Later that night, just as I was about to fall asleep, Liam texted me.
Liam: Finally home from New York.
Kinsley: Welcome home! Bring me anything? ;) Liam: I had a miniature Empire State Building but this little kid stole it in the airport lounge and I felt guilty about taking it back.
Kinsley: Are you serious?
Liam: Yeah, so some kid is walking around with your gift.
Kinsley: Haha, oh well… Are you glad to be home at least?
Liam: Yeah, it was a long trip. All work and no play.
Kinsley: I can’t relate. I lounged around on the beach all day.
Liam: Show me some proof…
I smiled down at his text, trying to decipher if he was being serious or not. Either way, I decided it wouldn’t hurt to remind him of what he was missing while he’d been away in New York. I pulled my shirt up while I laid in bed and then tugged my sleeping shorts down a bit so that he could see my tan torso and the curve of my hip bones. It was just enough to get his imagination going without showing anything too risqué. I skimmed the top of my shorts with my fingers and snapped the picture with the other hand.
I attached the photo with a message that said, “Can you see the tan line from my bathing suit bottom?”
Not two seconds later, my phone rang in my hand and his name flashed across the screen.
“It’s late, Liam,” I teased after answering the call.
“I don’t care. Are you alone?”
My room was pitch black and I couldn’t hear anything in the hallway. I glanced over toward the bathroom to see the light off, so Emily was already asleep.
“Yes, everyone is asleep.”
“I wish I was there right now.”
I hummed into the phone. “Oh really? And what would you do if you were here?” I asked, trying to play the role of the seducer.
“I’d put my hand exactly where yours was in that photo,” he began, and without thinking, I put my hand back where I had it, letting it rest on the hem of my thin sleeping shorts.
“And then?” I asked, hearing the evidence of lust in my voice.
“I’d skim my finger on top of your shorts, dipping it gently inside to feel the soft skin underneath.” My finger followed his trail. “And then I’d tug your pants and underwear down and toss them to the side.”
“You’re not wasting any time,” I murmured, fingering the top of my shorts before pushing them down my long legs.
He chuckled dark and low. “You wouldn’t mind. You’d beg me to speed up.”
“Mmm,” I hummed, stroking my fingers back and forth along the seam of my panties before gently pushing them aside.
“Kinsley, I want you to touch yourself.”
I inhaled sharply and let my fingers drift lower, along the sensitive skin of my upper thigh.