“What time is it?” He unlocked the door and opened it, then flicked on the lamps in the main room from the wall switch.
Slipping my phone from my pocket, I checked the time. “Looks like one-thirty.” I should be exhausted. I was still on EastCoast time. But then, I was accustomed to partying until early morning back in New York. It was the city that never sleeps after all. My stomach grumbled as I followed Malik inside and into the kitchen. “Can we DoorDash something? I’m hungry.” We hadn’t eaten since the pizza.
“I doubt anything is open. It’s not like we have twenty-four-hour Chinese food places here.” He opened the pantry door in the kitchen. “We have protein shakes, chips and, oh, shit, ramen noodles. The staple of college students everywhere.”
Rubbing my belly, I said, “Ramen sounds great. It’s almost like ordering Chinese.” I would have to get used to this.
He pulled out two packages, opened them, filled them with water and stuffed one into the microwave. “Do you want two or one?”
“One will do me.” I grabbed a water bottle from the refrigerator and fell onto the corner of the sectional. How long would Carrie wait before she texted me? I didn’t want to take her on a date. From my perspective, this had been a hookup and nothing more. “Hey, do you think you’ll be taking Riley on a date?”
He put the second package of noodles into the microwave. “I don’t think so.” He faced me, leaning his ass on the counter. “She was decent in bed, but I wasn’t feeling it.” He twisted his lips. “I haven’t actually been with a woman since spring break, when I visited you in New York.” The microwave dinged, and he brought our steaming noodles with spoons and forks to the couch. “Here.” He handed me one.
I shifted to the edge of the couch and blew across the noodles. “I’m guessing while you’re living here, you’re always at the gay bar with these guys?”
Mixing his noodles with his spoon, he said, “Yeah. I don’t know, I think I’m liking being with guys better.” His gaze cut to mine. “I enjoy women, but I don’t get off on it as much.”He huffed a chuckle. “There’s just something about a guy’s dick rubbing yours that’s just…” Closing his eyes, he hummed. “Better.”
I stared at him, heat burning low in my belly, my cock taking notice. What the fuck? He’d never been this graphic with me before. But then, hadn’t I imagined him doing Carrie with me? That’s all it was. Just a misfiring in my brain.
“And when a guy blows you, they know shit.” He gave me a pointed look. “I mean, they have a cock too, so they know how to do it.” With a soft snort, he shook his head and slurped noodles into his mouth.
I couldn’t drag my eyes away from him, the way his mouth moved around the spoon, or how his tongue licked his lips. Holy fuck, what would it feel like if he gave me a blowjob? Would he swallow? Fuck me, it was late, and I was tired. My mind was playing tricks on me. I blinked a few times and ate some noodles.
“I’m so glad you’re here, man.” He bumped my shoulder with his and ate more noodles. “I seriously love you. Do you know that?” A short laugh burst from him.
As warmth swirled inside me, I said, “Yeah, I love you too. And it’s not the alcohol talking.” He’d always had a way of comforting me. My mind switched direction to the upcoming football season. “What should I expect when training starts?” I pushed a spoonful of noodles into my mouth.
“The usual. We’ll start out in the gym, and our trainers will do some assessments.” He nodded slowly, eating more food. “We’ll practice in the dome, where we’ve got air conditioning. But the part that’s the most fun? Is when we go to Camp Tontozona in Payson. That’s where you’ll get to bond with all the guys.”
“Yeah, I’ve read about some of it online. It looks like fun.” As I finished my food, I set the container on the coffee table andleaned against his side, a wave of exhaustion washing over me. “Damn, I’m tired.”
“You’ve had a busy day with moving and all. I’m surprised you’re still awake.” He set his empty container on the coffee table, next to mine. “Come here.” He pushed on my shoulder and sank into the couch. “Remember when we were in Cabo together and had to share the same bed because the hotel fucked up our reservations?” He chuckled.
I lay across his lap, tucking my hand under my cheek and facing outward. We’d barely slept on that vacation, so it had mattered little to only have the one bed. “Yeah, you hogged the damn thing.”
“Did not.” He clicked his tongue and brushed my hair back from my face, his light touch leaving a tickle across my cheek. “You snored.”
“No, I didn’t.” A soft chuckle worked from my throat. Okay, I had. “I was drunk. Sometimes it happens when you drink too much.”
“I had to roll you onto your side. I almost pushed you off the damn bed.” His fingers carded through my hair.
As my muscles relaxed, I closed my eyes. Yeah, he calmed me like no one else could. It would be nice to sleep in the same bed again, knowing he was beside me. Shit, he’d never go for it though. He’d think it was weird to ask. It was though, wasn’t it? I snuggled my head against his thighs. “Malik? This is nice. Your fingers are amazing.” And much better than Carrie’s.
“It is.” He massaged my scalp. “You have such soft hair.” Bending over me, he sniffed. “And it smells amazing. What shampoo do you use?”
“It’s called Le Labo. You can try it. It’s in my shower.” I breathed in deeply, fending off sleep.
“No, then I’d smell like you and—” His breath caught.
“So?” I fluttered my eyes open and turned my head, gazing at his face. What the hell had he almost said? “So?”
He dipped his gaze to mine and cupped my chin. “So, it’s your smell. It’s something I associate with you, and I don’t want to ruin it.” He gave me a lopsided grin. “Sounds stupid, huh?”
“Guess not.” I still wasn’t sure what he meant, but I was too tired to say more about it. “We should probably go to bed.” I lifted off him and rose from the couch, primping my hair back into place. Fuck, I really wanted to sleep beside him. Was I still drunk? Probably. My stupid, liquor-filled brain was out of whack.
“Yeah.” He stood. “Come on, we should brush our teeth first.” Grabbing my hand, he hauled me to the hallway bathroom, grabbed his brush and took me to mine. After squeezing toothpaste onto my brush and then his, he handed mine to me. “Here.” He started the water running in the sink.
After dunking my toothbrush, I leaned against the back wall and scrubbed my teeth, my gaze meeting his in the mirror.