Just One of the Guys
Nine

Corbin

My apartment is so quiet that I'm about to go mad, even the ticking of my clock is grating on my last nerve and about to send me over the edge.

We had a short day today, something about all of the teachers needing to attend an emergency meeting, or something. I'm not really sure.

I stopped listening after they announced that fourth period, just before lunch, would be our last class for the day.

I went to the cafeteria, ate lunch with the guys, watched Knox more than I probably should have, moved my food around on my plate, not really all that hungry and then ended up shoving it at Gentry to finish when I was tired of staring at it. I spent most of the afternoon with my nose buried in one of the Harry Potter books that I checked out of the library, having not read them since I was in middle school; my older sister had had the whole collection and had lent them to me, and after I'd finished the last, we had spent an entire day binge watching all of the movies and comparing the movie to the book-I had not been happy to replace just how horribly short the movie fell in comparison to the books.

I started getting restless when I reached about a quarter of the way into *Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets*, but I tried to keep reading, ignoring the urge to get out, to go anywhere and do anything other than staying cooped up in this room any longer.

When I finally decide that enough is enough, I place my bookmark between the pages and sit it on my nightstand next to the clock.

After rummaging through my bottom drawer for about two minutes, I throw on a pair of relaxed fit, ripped up jeans that made it with the rest of my squandered items.

Afterward, I unbind my breasts, put on a bra and then slide a tight long sleeve shirt over my head and shimmy it down my torso, leaving a couple inches of my stomach exposed. Next, I attempt to tame my hair, trying anything to make me not look like a boy for the night.

Lastly, I line my eyes with eyeliner, coat my lashes with mascara, and throw on some lip-gloss, then stare at the girl reflected back in the mirror, still hardly recognizing myself with my short hair, although now it almost resembles a pixie cut. Unable to sit in this gosh forsaken apartment another minute, I grab my hoodie off the end of my bed, pull it on and raise the hood up so no one can see my face.

I make it through the dorms and out of the building without running into anyone, but the courtyard is teeming with people, some out for a stroll, maybe like me, needing an escape for a little bit.

There are a few people that are hidden in a dark corner of the building smoking. I can smell the smoke from here and if I look hard enough, I can just barely make out the cherry red ends of their cigarettes.

I rush down a path that leads to some trails just south of the school. Many of the guys use them for running and it's something I've thought about doing myself to keep me busy and keep my mind from wandering, but right now, I'm using them so that I can clear my head.

The sun is going down, sunset will happen at any moment and my focus is trained on the horizon, which is to the west of me, hoping that I can catch the beautiful moment as it sinks below the horizon.

I'm so focused on the setting sun that I don't notice there is someone else on the trail, until I walk right into them, slamming into a hard, sweaty chest.

They release a grunted *motherfucker* and double over, grabbing their junk.

I look up, completely embarrassed for accidentally racking this guy and lock eyes with none other than Knox.

"It's you..." he says between gritted teeth, like he can't really believe his eyes, "is it really you?" he asks again, slightly clearer this time as he looks up at me from his hunched over position, his hands still cupping between his legs. "Crap, I am *so*, so sorry!" I rushed out after way too long, my brain not completely caught up to the fact that I just racked Knox.

The same Knox that, earlier, was sexting me.

"Are you okay?" I ask, kneeling down in front of him, not exactly sure what I can do to make it better, "Is there anything that I can do? Would massaging it help it?" I ask as I reach my hand out to try to help.

"You want to massage my junk?" he questions with a confused look on his face and bats my hands away.

He half looks like he wants to laugh but also looks like he's barely holding in a string of curse words. "Bloody hell, woman!" he says with a chuckle and then a groan.

"Ugh..." I groan out, mortified. "Just shoot me now."

My face is flaming with embarrassment, but I'm also fighting off a laugh at my idiocy.

"While I bloody appreciate the offer, I think that would cause it to hurt worse at the moment with the whole constriction of blood vessels and all," he says, biting his lower lip, and silently chuckling.

"I think you just made my bloody day, babe," he says, straightening up, though slowly before limping toward me as he continues, "can't say I've had any other offers for a junk massage before. At least not without, *you know*...”

He flashes me a teasing smile and pulls me against his chest, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and resting his chin on top of my head. "Not that I'm complaining, because bloody hell, it's good to see you again. If we'd not been texting, I'd think you were all in my head. What are you doing over this direction?"

I snuggle in closer to his chest, the doubts from before suddenly seeming silly as I breathe in his earthy scent. "Honestly, I have no idea what I'm doing," I say, pulling back slightly so I can look at him as I talk to him, but not willing to relinquish my spot against his hard chest with his arms wrapped around me, "I just needed to get out, clear my head, ya know? Next thing I know, here I am."

"Well, whatever God or other bloody forces that were at work, and are responsible for bringing you here, I am terribly bloody glad they did," Knox says, then takes advantage of the little bit of space between us, dipping his head down and capturing my lips in a scorching kiss as soon as the last word falls from his lips.

Damn, his lips on mine feel so incredibly good. Even better than I remembered from when we kissed at the party, and that says something because that kiss has been on a constant replay in my head.

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about doing that since the last time, which by the way was incredible but not nearly enough," he murmurs the words against my lips before sealing them to my own again, his tongue asking for entrance this time.

I get lost in the kiss.

One of Knox's hands grasping a hold of my short strands of hair, while the other glides down my body, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

He grasps a hold of my butt and thrusts his pelvis into me, his desire more than obvious and clearly having recovered from the earlier trauma that I caused.

A moan escapes from deep within my throat. At the sound, the fiery, passionate kiss kicks up a notch, becoming even more frenzied.

Knox releases a groan of his own and thrusts into my lower abdomen again.

"Bloody hell," He groans again, placing his forehead against mine. We both stare into one another's eyes as we try to catch our breath.

His eyes flick back and forth between mine, as though he's searching for something. Maybe he's searching for permission for him to take things further. Maybe I'm looking for answers, trying to figure out what we're doing, what his intentions actually are and if I'm okay with things escalating between us, even if his intentions aren't for whatever this is to become something more.

"I'm trying to be a bloody gentleman here babe, but holy hell," he grunts, backing away and putting some much-needed distance between us before we both do something that we may end up regretting later. Regardless of the things that he messaged me, maybe he wants more too?

"S-sorry..." I stutter, feeling guilty for putting us, for putting *him* in this position. Especially when my head has been so messed up, questioning his intentions.

I watch him, nibbling my bottom lip as he tries to calm himself down. His manhood, straining against his shorts, leaving no question as to how worked up he is.

"I should just go...I-I'm so sorry for..." I wave my hand in the direction of his crotch with his barely concealed long, hard cock straining against the thin material of his shorts before continuing, "that."

I turn away, feeling turned on, embarrassed and a little hurt.

*Why do I feel hurt?*

*Even though I like how he makes me feel, am I even ready?*

*Isn't taking things slow what I wanted*?

I consider how this makes me feel, as I begin making my down the trail.