My "Straight" Neighbor

Another week had passed, another week of being me; but with him– with Denver.

Weekdays were pretty typical, most of all five of us worked during the day and hung out at night. Denver and I spent a little extra bit of that time at night– alone.

And I made sure to repay him, not just for the uber; not just for nudging me to make things right with the girls. But for that night that was all about me. It was my turn to make a night all about him, fair right?

It was a random day during the week, a Thursday I think. Roman and Leah had a date night, Emily was stuck at work; so it was just us– and all the time in the world.

I’d been thinking about it for days since he took me on my kitchen island, since that night he confessed and apologized. No one– ever, had done something so riveting to me; so primal with me. I had to return the favor, make sure he knew I could be full of surprises too.

And boy was I.

So that night I invited him over, not that he probably wouldn’t have shown up himself; but I extended the offer anyhow. He didn’t knock on my door until seven, giving me plenty of time to get myself right; take care of what I needed to.

I greeted him at the door, “Hey th– woah.” I took a step back, observing his figure head to toe. “Did you just get off work or something?” I quizzed, a teasing smirk upon my lips.

He chuckled in the threshold, letting himself in and kicking off his work boots. “The fucking maintenance people here don’t do shit.” He muttered as he strolled around me and took a seat on a bar stool; “Our water was supposed to be back on by five.”

I nodded, not letting his annoyance bother me in the slightest; “Is that you asking to use my shower?” I stalked over to him, nestling my body in between his legs; resting my elbows on his broad shoulders.

He smirked up at me with those eyes of green; “It wasn’t. But can I?” His arms snaked around my waist.

I leaned down to his ear, “Yes, sir.” I whispered, earning a squeeze on my backside. I could smell the workday on him, the sawdust; his sweat– his cologne and deodorant.

“You know that turns me on.” I could feel the smile at his lips sitting in my jaw, his overgrown stubble scratching at my neck. Of course I knew, why else would I say it? “Mmm.” He growled as my tongue licked at his ear, swirled at his neck. “You should let me shower.” He breathed while I continued, keeping him locked in this chair as I bit down and sucked.

I kissed his collarbone, drifting my hands down his arms; “And why would I do that?” I purred into his skin, linking my hands in his.

I leaned back, locking with his eyes that had already begun to glaze over. “Because I’m sweaty and a mess and I w–”

His excuses were cut off by my lips smashing into his, my tongue circling for entrance which he granted. I bit on his bottom lip, fumbled a hand on the bar stool; searching for the lever that would adjust the height. A deep breath through his nose, a squeeze of my hand; all was going to plan.

I pressed on the lever, sinking his seat some inches down as I climbed into his lap; straddling his waist and wrapping my arms around his neck. I broke away, “Because of what?” I played his games, flipped the table on the man that so effortlessly switches his persona.

He smirked, “You better stop.” I started unbuttoning his shirt, cocking my head in question.

“And why would I do that?” I asked innocently, softly– seductively.

Those hands found my hips again and bucked his own into me, a wild look in his eyes. I undid another button; “You know exactly what you’re doing to me.” He smirked up at me, but I ignored it. I popped another button– revealing his pecs and nipples that I descended my mouth to, still working my hands down the rest of his shirt. He shuddered as my tongue flicked, my mouth sucked. “You better stop before I can’t control myself.” His body stiffened, his breathing hitched.

I undid the last button, exposing his skin to me as I grazed my hands up and down.

“But if I did that…” I breathed against his skin, pulling away and kneeling to the floor– staring up at him as his lips parted, eyebrows raised. “..then tonight wouldn’t be all about you.”

I rested my chin into his bulge, pressed down to feel the growing length inside. I fiddled with the button and zipper, and his hands found my hair. He stopped the protests, stopped the whining.

My hands ripped at the opening in his pants, smeared my nose; my lips– all over his hardening cock. His grip tightened in my curls, hips bucking at the pressure.

I wrapped my mouth around his clothed tip, moaning into him while I met his eyes. His mouth was open, jaw tensed; that lustful look in those deep green eyes as I sucked.

My own shorts were tight, my own release was needed but tonight wasn’t about me. I had my turn; had my night. I wanted to be the magician this time– I wanted to work the magic. My fingers curled around his waistband, revealing his hair that stuck to his unclean body.

His musk was what I didn’t know I needed– what I didn’t know I craved.

My tongue dragged down his pelvis as I pulled more at his boxers; his cock twitching as more of him was unclothed. And before his full length sprang free, it was already in my mouth.

He moaned under my touch, “Fuck!” gripped harder in my hair; bit on his lip as I slid his length further inside. I tugged his boxers down enough to stay, moved my hands up his abdomen– felt the ripples of his abs as his breath became shaky.

My fingers drifted along his muscled chest, stirred at his nipples; I slid further down. His eyes hadn’t left mine, his grip loosened in my curls— I had the control. I needed him to see me struggle— see me like it.

See me crave it.

I had half of him inside my mouth, already buckling in intervals as I gagged. And he let me work my magic, let me take my time; let me lick and suck and worship his beast. I wanted him to watch me; I needed him to watch me.

A hand traveled to my face, a thumb sliding across my cheek as I sputtered, gagged; tears falling from my eyes. My face was red as fire, veins tore through my eyes— I showed him it hurt. I showed him that it stung.

But I was his.

And I needed to make him mine.

I needed him to understand, needed him to know; needed him to watch me struggle— then let him have me.

I slowly spun my lips, drug my tongue along the bottom; and swirled at his tip— “I could use some help here.” I breathed out, spit dripping from my mouth.

And he knew, I could see the switch in his eyes; the moment he knew that I needed him— the moment he knew that I craved him.

A hand tightened in my hair, fingers slid down my jaw; around my neck. Our eyes spoke everything for us. I descended upon him, opened for him; let him do whatever he wanted.

He pulled my head down to him; hovering where I struggled, right where my throat stops. But he persisted, breaking through the barrier; smothering my lips against him. I couldn’t breathe; I didn’t need to— I needed this, I needed him.

I gagged and choked, heaved and trembled; tears and all— but I stared directly at him, trusted in him. I slid my hands off his body, made sure he could see; and I placed my wrists together behind my back. I was screaming without having to, pleading without having to— this mouth is yours, I am yours.

And he had his way with my throat, right then and there. I let him— no, gave him that power over me.

His hand gripped tight around my throat, fingers feeling himself inside of me. He groaned, threw his head back; unleashing that manic beast he held inside him.

And there really was no stopping him, but I didn’t care. He pulsed, thrusted— it was a struggle to keep my eyes open. He held me, twitched inside me; burned and stretched me wide. Another thrust, another moan— and my eyes fell heavy, the world spinning behind him.

I was losing air, becoming purple in the face. But he had his way, my way— our way.

And he let up, let go. My throat burned as I sucked in oxygen, gasping for the air I desperately needed as he clasped my face between his hands; bent those lips in front of me and whispered— “I’ve trained you well, haven’t I?”

I had to respond, no matter the need for air. “Yes, sir.” I managed through ragged breaths.

That damn smirk tugged at his lips, growing as his mouth parted; sucking in his own shaky breath as he lowered my head once again. “Good boy.” He seethed through clenched teeth, and ravaged my throat once again.

I kept my wrists at my back, arched my body so he could see that they stayed. My toes curled, fists clenched— but I fucking needed this.

He let up once again, both hands holding my head at my cheeks; “You want this cum down your throat?” And I knew what answer he expected, knew what answer he wanted. But I defied him.

“Shower.” I pleaded, “Go run the shower.” I smiled through a ragged breath. And those gears began behind his eyes, a twinge of amusement behind his next words.

He cracked a wickedly humorous smile, “Yes, sir.” And he added a slap to my face, standing from the stool and walking down the hall.

As he disappeared, I shuddered. My throat was a ruin, my voice was rasped; estranged. But tonight wasn’t about me, I reminded myself. No, it was about him. So I picked myself off the floor as I heard the shower turn on, shook at my knees as I began walking. Each step, another reason. Each step, another want— another need.

And I found him in all his glory, stripped head to toe. His eyes met mine, walked towards me and wrapped those hands around my waist. “You have too many clothes on.” He whispered in my ear, dragging the hem of my shirt up and over my head.

He tapped at my hardened bulge and I hissed, it was sensitive, hiding; waiting its turn for release. But he comes first tonight. So he backed away, eyeing me up and down as he drew the curtains and stepped into the running shower. My cheeks burned, I fumbled with my shorts– my socks. I ripped them off me, closing the gap between us until I stepped inside with him.

The water was already steaming, cascading over his head; running down his body. My eyes followed every drop as I stepped into him; positioning his length in between my thighs and squeezing. “You always have the power.” I stared into his eyes. “You take me where you want me, when you want me.” I wrapped my arms around his neck, nestled my lips under his ear and bit.

My tongue licked, flicked at his lobe; those hands of his gripping my sides. “But tonight…” I started, “I want you to take me right here, right now.”

A low growl escaped his lips, a hand craning my head back with my hair; a wild look in those eyes. Water sprayed at us, soaked us– made us one. Another hand circled to my backside, drifted between my cheeks and slid over my entrance– I shuddered.

I squeezed my thighs around his cock, he stiffened in place as his middle finger swirled around my hole; threatening. “Now.” I controlled him, I ordered him.

And he obeyed me tonight.

He flipped me around, shoved a hand at my back to lean me over; I gripped on the wall. I felt his lips at my spine, his tongue drag downwards. I was arching, pleading. He dove his tongue inside me and I yelped, moaned– bit on my lip in nothing but pleasure.

The warmth of his mouth left me, replaced by the heat of his raging length. He slid it back and forth, tempting my hole as he pressed but didn’t enter. Fingernails dug into my cheeks, spreading them with one final word; “Now.” I panted as I clutched the shower tile.

And he obliged, full force.

His cock rammed inside me, splitting me open as his hands gripped my hips; pulling me into him. “Fuuuck!” He moaned, slapping his balls to mine as he slid in and out.

He grabbed my shoulders, bent my back into him; and fucked me the only way he knew how– hard and rough and mercilessly. “Oh my God.” I gasped, “Oh my God.” I caved into him, wrapping my arms around the back of his neck, pulling his lips into my shoulder.

He licked at my neck, sucked at my ear; “I’ve never felt anything so good wrapped around my cock.” He whispered and I melted.

Another thrust, he moaned in my ear. Another thrust, he breathed through his nose. Another thrust, I thought I might explode.

But he slipped out, turned me, hoisted my legs around his body and slammed my back into the wall– pinning me there. His eyes were dirty, clouded by lust and passion. I linked my ankles around his torso, allowed his hand to guide his length and…

“Fuck!” I moaned– no, screamed as he plowed inside of me. He used momentum, used his strength. He’d lift me, slide me up the wall; then let me drop– slamming every glorious inch of him inside me.

His tongue found my neck, sucked as he went; bit as he fucked.

And I let him, my body shaking under the pressure. I relinquished my control, served it to him on a silver platter. And he took it with dignity, with pride– and railed me over and over again until I was screaming his name.

His legs were shaking, his body tensing; those breaths of his becoming ragged all over again. “Touch yourself.” He whispered, craning his neck to look down at my raging dick in between us.

I unlinked a hand from his neck, grabbed my throbbing length and started to twist and pull and moan even more in ecstasy. He growled at the sight, bared his teeth in pleasure and doubled his speed inside me.

I was close before, even closer now; my hand barely had the energy to do what he wanted. But I kept jerking myself, watching him as he watched me.

His mouth was open, in awe and out of breath. “I’m so close.” I moaned and he snapped his eyes up to mine, smirked and attacked my lips.

There were moans through our kisses, moans through his thrusts– until I was shaking, breaking; rolling my eyes to the back of my head. And I moaned one last time, releasing everything between us.

He didn’t stop; but he pulled his lips from mine as I was trembling in orgasmic heaven. “You are mine.” He breathed softly, tenderly– such a juxtaposition from the brutal thrusts inside me.

And as his legs shook, as he trembled with his mouth agape; I needed him to know one last time.

“And I am yours.” I breathed out as he released every drop he had, filling me with his seed; bonding us for eternity.

He stayed frozen for a moment, controlling his breath before letting me down gently. My chest was rising and falling along with his, water rained down above us.

It was me, and him. Just us– just as I wanted.

“That was so fucking hot.” He smirked down to me, no more lust in those eyes; no more sexual drive. It was something else swirling inside them, something else entirely.

I wrapped my arms around him, hugged him– breathed in the scent of him before saying; “Do I get a prize?” Teasing him with his own words, those words from the first day we met– that first day he had his way with me.

But that’s all it was; a tease. I expected no real prize, nothing tangible or memorable. But my heart fluttered, knees buckled.

He hugged me back tightly, nestling his chin on my shoulder; “How about a date?” He asked.

And I detached from him, not impressed with that kind of joke. But there was no humor behind those eyes, no amused smirk upon his lips. A real question, a real date.

I nodded my head smiling, melting back into him before we showered.

- - -

It was the following day, another night at the girls apartment. We all sat around the living room, talking and laughing and enjoying the company. It was surreal– last night was.

Everything. Our moment at the bar stool, our moment in the shower; those four simple words that left his lips. How about a date? They still rang through me as if he just said it.

After that shower he told me he’d been thinking about it, getting us out of our complex; going somewhere nobody knew us. I understood his thinking, though I did hope that one day we wouldn’t have to worry about a crowd; about people. But the point being; he asked me out– asked me on a date.

And he told me it would be Sunday, the three week mark since meeting each other. I didn’t have many details, and didn't know where we were going. All I knew is that it would be us– together.

But my attention snapped back to reality as Roman returned from the hallway after a long call. “Okay…” he started, eyes wide and hands out; “I need a favor from all of you.” We all looked up to him, questions appearing in our eyes; “Next Saturday, my dad’s having another charity banquet at the club and I need all of you to come, pretty please.” He begged with hands clasped together.

Denver agreed quickly, dismissing it like it was normal. Though I stared longer, my eyebrows knit together. “Charity banquet?” I asked.

“Yes. My dad holds them often down in Lakewood, and he told me to help fill extra seats.” He explained, though I suppose I didn’t know the first thing about Roman’s family; or his dad.

Emily groaned, “Will it be long again?” Roman just shrugged but turned to me.

“So Max, do you have formal clothes?” He asked me. I nodded my head and he sighed in relief, “Perfect, thank you.”

Even though I didn’t actually agree, I did silently. Of course I’d help him out. Plus, a night at the country club? I hadn’t been to one since my grandmother died; all those summers at the country club in Potomac were fun when I was a kid. I’d happily join, especially if I got to see Denver in a suit and tie.

And I took a glance at his figure, imagining a tuxedo tight-fitted to his body; and I smiled.

But Roman wasn’t finished, “And in return…” he dragged out the word, “He said that we can all come to the Poconos in October for a week.” And that’s what really got everyone's attention.

“Oh my God, nuh uh!” Leah jumped from her seat, “You mean ski lodge Poconos right?” And he nodded his head, accepting her hug and kiss as she jumped into him. “We haven’t been there since what?” They stared in each other’s eyes, “Like, summer after high school?”

Denver smiled as he watched his best friend's face get bombarded, while I watched him; every angle, every breath. I’ve never been to the Poconos, never been skiing actually; but that’s not until October. We had plenty of time. “I think so.” Roman answered, nestling his hands around her waist.

Yet I couldn’t help myself for just a split second, thinking; daydreaming of what it could look like. If Denver and I could be an item by then, skiing by day and cuddling with cocoa at night; enjoying ourselves in front of a hearth warmed by fire.

But eventually the excitement dwindled, we all went back to normal and I went back to obsessing over what exactly we’d be doing come Sunday.

- - -

And finally Sunday rolled around.

Denver had kept tightlipped on anything having to do with our date, no matter how annoying I’d be to try and pry information out of him. He’d just smile, or smirk; or cut me off with a kiss to my lips. He wasn’t going to break, but that didn’t keep me from trying.

That morning I woke up to a text from him. Be ready at 10.

Luckily the time was only eight thirty, so I rolled out of bed with my stomach filled with butterflies; and got ready. But when I went to throw on some clothes, I felt I needed some further clarification.

Ready meaning??? I sent to him, followed by a sneaky flirt. Jeans and a t-shirt? Shorts and a hoodie? On my knees with the door unlocked?

I smiled at his quick response. Don’t tempt me now. Wear casual, we’ll be walking a lot.

Okay. I responded.

So I dressed in a simple pair of black joggers and a fitted top, my mind racing for what exactly he had planned. Walking a lot? That could mean anything– a hike, the harbor, Fells Point, Annapolis. But I distracted myself by making a small breakfast, a quick batch of scrambled eggs and toast.

And I was cleaning up my dishes when I heard the knock at my door.

I opened it, and there he was; leaned against the threshold with his arms crossed– that damn smirk upon his lips. “Your door wasn’t unlocked.” He teased me.

Though I couldn’t help my own lips tug into a smirk too. “I just need to finish these dishes.” I started as I turned from him and walked back to my sink; the water still running on my plates. “You know half of these dishes are yours…”

But I felt those hands snake around my hips again, his body pressing into mine. “Then let me do them.” He cooed in my ear, swaying our bodies side to side.

I refused to let his persuasiveness win right now, refused to melt into him right now. I shook my head, chuckling at the statement while I quickly finished up. And then I turned, then I met those eyes again; and I memorized every fine detail about him.

“Are we ready to go?” I placed my hands to his chest, standing on my tiptoes to plant a kiss on his lips. He looked me up and down when I pulled away, dragging his finger-tips down my arms; wrapping them into my hands.

He cracked a smile as I squeezed, “Eager for someone who doesn’t know what we’re doing.” He backed away, letting our hands fall out of each other’s; “I could be taking you to a farm to murder you.” He joked, at least I hoped he joked.

I followed him to the door, “As long as you make it a mystery,” I began; “full on Gone Girl would be nice. I could break national news.” He turned to me with an interesting look in his eyes, brows furrowed as I continued his joke. We headed out the door and down the steps, “Or maybe I could be the next Netflix documentary, Finding Max. It’s got a ring to it, doesn’t it?”

He opened the lobby door for me, “Maybe let’s not fantasize about your death?” He laughed at me.

“You started it.” I pointed out as I trudged forward, silently swooning over his words. I knew what he said was a joke, and I knew what I said was a joke too. But at least now I knew he found my death a not so pretty subject, at least that was nice– right?

I let him guide me to his car, a glossy black Mazda. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in your car before.” I smiled at the framework, at the angles of the hood.

The car unlocked, “Don’t get used to it.” his door opened and he slid inside; I followed suit, crinkling my eyebrows at him. “Not like that!” He admitted when he saw my face, “I’m just planning on getting something different soon.” And he revved the car to life, “I’ve always wanted a motorcycle.”

“You mean a two-wheeled death trap?” I raised my brows as he pulled the car into drive, one hand on the wheel and one on the clutch– a stick shift.

He chuckled, “What’s up with you and death today?” He teased, pulling the car out of its spot and heading through our community.

When we stopped at the light just a minute from our apartments, it dawned on me that I still hadn’t a clue what we were doing or where we were going– or what everyone else thought we were up to today.

So I asked, “So…” I peered at his side profile, “What does everyone think we’re doing today? Any more lies to add to the book?” My words came out as a joke; meant as a joke. But I could see the slight tense in his jaw, no smirk on his lips.

“No lies.” He said, shifting to first gear when the light turned green; “They all know we’re hanging out.” He averted his gaze from the road and shot me a knowing look before returning his eyes to the pavement.

I blinked; several times as I thought what to make of that. “What does that mean?” I asked plainly, not looking to speak in more riddles today.

“It means that I told them.” My heart stopped, my breathing short-circuited. And he peered at me again, a small tug on his lips; “About us having a bro day.” His clutch hand patted my thigh and squeezed all of that hope that built inside of me all the way out. “Don’t worry, they don’t expect a thing.”

But was it wrong of me to want them to? Hope that they did? Hope that they did actually know the truth? I suppose this should’ve been expected, I don’t know why I thought otherwise for that split second.

“This way you can post on your instagram story.” He popped his eyebrows with a short glance my way, remembering how I complained that I rarely do anymore.

I chuckled, fumbling with my fingers; “Cool.” I muttered, but I don’t think he really understood what I meant when I said that. I meant that it would be nice to post him on my story, but just maybe I could get away with that too if I played it right.

He eventually connected his phone, shuffling whatever he had saved to his itunes which happened to be a shit ton of classic rock and today’s hits from high school. Though I kept wondering, where the hell are we going? I was trying to follow the roads he was taking, but all these damn highways… all these fucking numbers… why is Maryland so damn confusing?

I couldn’t even look at a gps, he just already knew where he was going. “Are you gonna tell me where we’re going yet?” I bothered him for the third time during the drive.

He smirked, a small chuckle escaping his lips; “You really have been away for a while.” He took a small glance at me, “You don’t know the streets to DC?”

And immediately a flutter of joy sprang through me, “Oh my God.” I focused back to the road, to the stream of highways and cars in front of us. “Fuck, no I don’t remember DC at all.” A smile took to my lips. I turned to him again, “Are we going to the Smithsonians?”

A bigger laugh escaped him, “Maybe.” He shot me a look, tapping a hand to my thigh, swirling his thumb and craning his neck. “Maybe not.”

I rolled my eyes, but at that moment I stopped caring what it was that we were going to do. I just knew it would be with him, outside of Maryland; outside of the bubble that strapped us into our lies.

My eyes were open the rest of the drive, really open. I scanned everything around us, trying to remember things from my childhood; trying to remember that I was on a date with the most mesmerizing man in the world.

Once we found our way into the city, my eyes wouldn’t break free of the window. The trees looked different, the sidewalks looked different; everything looked expensive. And finally we found a parking garage to park in.

“Ready?” He smiled at me, unclipping his seatbelt.

I unclipped mine, “Ready.”

We made our way outside, to the bustling streets of cherry blossoms and taxis. He led the way, he seemed to know exactly where we were going.

“Ever been on the metro?” He asked me as we passed a bakery that filled my nostrils with the scent of cupcakes and sweet cream.

I shook my head, “Not here. I have been on the subway before in New York.” He nodded his head, a smile pulling at his lips.

“Well don’t expect it to be as nice as the streets.” And he grabbed my hand, intertwined his fingers with mine and leaned down to kiss my cheek as we walked.

My lips parted, my heart beat spiked as we continued– holding hands. Now that’s something we’d never done. I mean, we’ve held hands in my apartment; watching a show or cuddling in bed. But in the open, walking around… Again that blush crept to my cheeks.

He was right though about the metro. Filthy, is how I’d describe it. Not that I’m scared of the homeless or allergic to them for that matter. It was just dirty, garbage everywhere. But he paid for my very own metro card, adding money to his own; and we waited for the rail to pick us up.

His hand still stayed in mine, even after he let go to pay and let go to walk through the security checkpoint; he reached back for it– squeezed it tighter each time.

Our stomachs got to rumbling by the time we exited the metro and our faces braced the sunlight. His hand rubbed at his stomach, “Cool with a food truck?” he asked me again, so many questions; so much permission he asked me for. I simply nodded my head.

As we waited in a short line at a taco truck, he stared at the menu plastered on the side; meanwhile I stared at our interlocked hands. I still couldn’t get over it, get over this. He’s so stereotypically straight back home, he’d never hold my hand out in public. But I guess that was the point in going out of the way. Yet, a surge of butterflies still swarmed within me.

If anyone passing took one look at us, what would they assume? I would assume they’d think we were a couple, think that I could pull a guy like him; that he could pull a guy like me.

But when it was our turn, I realized I hadn’t taken one single look at their options. “I’ll take the two taco combo,” and he peered at the sign again, “with uhm, mexican rice is fine.” He smiled at the older gentleman taking our order. And then he looked at me, squeezed my hand; “For you darling?”

A crazy blush ran to my face, darling? He called me his fucking darling? I opened my mouth unsure, completely taken aback by his choice words. I looked at the menu, everything looked the same. “Uhm…” I turned to the man inside the truck and shook my head, “I’ll just take whatever he’s having.” And he rang up a total that Denver paid.

The man handed Denver a ticket and told us it would be five minutes to which we took a few steps back and waited among others. I looked up at him, “Darling?” And a smirk tugged at him, his own blush reddening his face.

“I didn’t think about it before I said it.” He shrugged innocently, shaking off just how crazy that made me; just how much power that one word had.

It was more than five minutes. But eventually we got our food and sat on the ledge of a stone fencing that surrounded some small city park. And we enjoyed our food– in each other’s company.

After, we were off to walking again; back to holding hands and back to being us. I could get used to this, I could get used to this, I could get used to this. Fuck, why couldn’t we just move here, be us all the time? No matter how unreasonable that sounds, it's how I felt– it's what I wanted.

And he did take me to a Smithsonian by the way– two of them to be exact.

We walked the air and space museum first, followed by the American art museum next. And of course I took a million and one photos, sure to post several on my story.

But I was in the middle of a sentence, in the middle of having one of the best days ever– when he dropped my hand from his grasp…

“Misha.” He blurted, wiping his hand on his jeans; facing a dark haired woman maybe two or three years older than us.

She held a bag from Prada, surely filled with something expensive and looked between the two of us with drawn brows. “Denver… and?” She looked into my eyes.

“Max.” I almost whispered, realizing that we’ve just ran into somebody Denver knows, somebody who could ruin everything.

She smiled at me, “Nice to meet you.” And she stuck out her hand for me to formally shake, which I did. Though I could feel the heat emitting Denver’s body; could smell the fear seeping from his pores. “What a lovely day to be in the capital right? What are you two doing?” She asked, focusing her hazel eyes on Denver.

“I was just showing him around the city, he’s never been.” A lie, “What’re you doing here? Don’t you live in Canton?” His nerves had him adding details, asking more questions than he needed.

So before she answered, before he made a fool out of himself; I intervened. “Oh my God, we’re gonna miss the last call for the zoo, bro.” That word left a nasty taste in my mouth, “I’m so sorry, but that’s all I wanted to do today.” I looked into her eyes that slowly drifted to mine from his.

“Okay.” She said, “You two have fun.” And I padded us along the sidewalk, creating whatever distance I had to away from her.

I turned to him at a safe distance as we continued our fast walk away, “Who was that?”

“Misha.” He mumbled, color gone from his face; not a chance he’d grab my hand again.

I shook my head, knit my brows together, “And who the fuck is Misha?”

“My cousi– friend. Just a friend who should mind her business.” He ran a hand through his hair, clearly distraught and frustrated and… angry.

A cousin? A friend? Which one was it? I didn’t pry, I could tell he wasn’t in the mood to answer but it made my head spin. Who the fuck is this Misha? Is he lying? Is this a cousin? A friend? Or worse… an ex.

And that basically turned our date around. He didn’t end it, but his face basically did; his communication basically did. There was no more hand holding, no more smiles or smirks or cocky flirts.

Nothing– but simple conversation that made my head spin.

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A/N - Thanks for the love so far! Appreciate the comments!