He presses his lips hard against mine as he pushes me through the stream of water and up against the shower wall. In one swift motion he picks me up, cupping his hands under my ass, and frantically pushes inside me.

After a very steamy shower, we dry off, and then collapse into bed.

Before we fall asleep, he pulls me into his chest, kisses the top of my head, and whispers, “I love you.”

Sunday, October 2nd

I’m not kinky enough?

8am

Dallas and I are the first ones up. I’m toasting us English muffins when he says, “So last night was interesting.”

“What do you mean?”

“Katie and I did it.”

“Did it! You had sex? I thought you wanted to wait?”

“I thought she’d make me wait. We haven’t even been dating for a week.”

“So what happened?”

“Did you see the way she looked? That hot little thing she was wearing? It was all silky and her boobs were just like, Bam! But even then, I was going to wait.”

“And?”

“And she decided to convince me otherwise.” He blushes.

“You’re blushing. How did she convince you?”

“She put Dawson’s party favors to good use. But it didn’t go well.”

“Why not? Because it was your first time or because you were kind of drunk?”

“No, it’s just that she was sucking the, uh, lifesaver, pretty enthusiastically. When I was close, she stopped and we did. And so as soon as we did, I did.”

“Believe it or not, I actually followed that. So it was over fast?”

“Very fast. I was sort of embarrassed, but she didn’t care. She came back out here, grabbed us a bottle of vodka, poured me another shot, and said that we needed to do it again.” He sits up straighter. “I obliged.”

“Still, you could have said no.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

I put on a pout. “What about me?”

He grins. “We got high. We kissed. We’re not friends with ben-e-fits. We’re friends who hit-and-kiss. Ha! Get it? That rhymes.”

“You’re hilarious. But you didn’t answer my question.”

“No offense, but you're sorta straight.”

“I'm not kinky enough? And you think Katie is? She's hasn't even done it much. And neither have you, for that matter.”

“I didn't mean it that way. I just meant, like, your body. I prefer shorter, curvier figures. That's what I'm attracted to.”

“I’m straight and unattractive. Great.”

“Straight, yes. Unattractive, no. You’re hot. Just not my type. Seems like you’re pretty happy being Dawson’s type though.”

I smile big. “That’s true. Last night, he did things to me that were so hot.”

“You’re gonna have to tell me about them, so I can make Katie hot.”

“Seems like that’s not a problem.” I glance at the clock. “We better get everyone up. We have to be back at school soon to work on the dance float.”

You’ll cause a riot.

2pm

I spend most of the day working on the dance team’s float for the Homecoming parade. A group of alumni dancers really do all the planning and designing of the float. Basically we’re just here to be worker bees. I flit around like a good bee should and do what I’m told.

Maggie and I are sitting on the ground, legs crossed, stringing fake red and yellow flowers onto streamers to make garlands for the sides of the float.

Maggie goes, “So I know that I’m in lust with Parker right now. And I know that you are in love with Dawson, but I think we should take a moment to admire the magnificence that is right in front of us.” She nods her head toward Aiden and sighs. “Look at the way he’s swinging that hammer. He’s so intense. And those biceps. Totally jacked. Can’t you picture him building you a gazebo or something?” She scrutinizes me. “Come on, say something. Gush with me.”

“He’s good with a hammer,” I say, knowing I sound totally lame.

“I’d let him hammer me any time,” she says with a naughty grin.

“Maggie!” I giggle.

“What?” she says as we both lean our heads to one side to get a better view. “You know you’d let him hammer you too.”

“I would not! I love Dawson. Oh, look. He’s starting to sweat.”

“I don’t see sweat.”

“Yeah, look at the back of his neck, right below his hairline. There are little beads of sweat. He must be hot.”

Maggie fans herself. “You’re not a kidding, he’s hot. Oh. My. God. He’s taking off his shirt!”

I lower my head and try not to watch, but he catches my eye with those damn tractor beams of his just as he pulls his shirt over his head.

He tosses it to the ground, gives me a little grin, looks down at his chest, and then looks back at me with one of those freaking smiles. The same smile he was flashing to numerous girls at the Cave the other night.

I think he just can’t help it. It’s just in his godly blood to make girls swoon.

“Would you look at that?” Maggie continues. “It’s like he’s perfect. Hey, help me out here. Look at him carefully and see if you can find anything that isn’t perfect.”

“I’m not going to sit here and stare at him. He already has a big enough head as it is.”

She giggles. “I’ve heard that he is big.”

“Big? Like, down there?”

“Yes, down there. What are you, ten?”

“Where did you hear that?”

“Well, he’s been with quite a few girls. They talk, you know. About his package.”

“Which girls? No. Wait. I don’t want to know. I couldn’t care less.” I bite the corner of my lip and try to focus on the garland I’m supposed to be making. But then I look around and realize Aiden and I are the only ones getting any work done. Half the dance team and most of the alumni have stopped what they’re doing and are all drooling in his direction.

I feel a little bad for him.

Being objectified and all.

“This is ridiculous, Maggie. I’m going to tell him to put his shirt back on.”

She gives me an evil eye. “Don’t you dare. You’ll cause a riot.”

“Still, I’m going over there.” I get up and walk toward Aiden. He is hammering nails.

I said that already, didn’t I?

I lean down to talk to him just as he stands up straight, which means his abs are now staring at me.

Hello, sexy, perfect abs.

Hi, amazing deep V-line.

Howdy, . . .”

“You need something?” he says, bending over at the waist and taking my view away.

“What?” I’m feeling just a bit dazed. Must be all the spray glue fumes. “Oh, I was going to say that you’re doing a great job. With the hammer. With the, uh, hammering. Like, you seem to be pretty good at hammering. Uh, I mean pounding. Or, um, nailing.” I shake my head. “You know, whatever it’s called.”

Why does every word I say suddenly sound perverted?

Aiden tosses the hammer into the air. It spins in a circle then drops back into his hand. “I like to hammer things.”

I gulp.

Damn Maggie for turning basic carpentry all sexual.

Aiden pulls a drill gun out of the little tool belt that he’s wearing and holds it up. “I’m good at screwing too.” He laughs. “That didn’t come out quite right. I meant that I’m good with a screw gun. I’m good with lots of power tools.”

My mind immediately goes to his tool. His godly, powerful tool.

I glance down at his crotch before I can think better of it.

He catches me, leans in, and whispers to me, “I’m good at all kinds of screwing.”

I blush.

I’m blushing.

I know I’m blushing.

“That’s just gross,” I say, trying to recover, while peeling my eyes off Aiden’s body.

He sets the hammer down to reach up and wipe the sweat off the back of his neck.

When he does this, it causes the muscles on his entire right side to flex. I hear an audible gasp from a woman near me, whose face looks permanently surprised from way too much Botox.

Aiden ignores her or maybe he’s so used to it he doesn’t even notice. He whispers to me, “Trust me. When we do it, it will so not be gross. It will be amazing. Best you’ll ever have.”