The week rolls on, and both Cruise and I are finding a rhythm in the house. He cooks breakfast, and I make lunch. Dinner is on the fly and usually sponsored by Johnny Burgers. Cruise mentioned he needed to help out his mom this afternoon, so I’m running errands.
Driving on snow-slicked roads feels a lot like falling in love. Although I’m totally not falling in love—I’m falling in lust. That’s all that really exists in this world. Everything else is simply an illusion born of self-inflicted desire.
I’m dodging some serious traffic, thanks to an entire slew of after-Christmas sales as I make my way back from Garrison. I made the mistake of checking on the status of my imaginary dorm room only to be informed Pennington fabricated the fact he put me on a waiting list—turns out there isn’t one.
I squeeze my hands over the steering wheel and pretend its Pennington’s little, red neck. Speaking of the Alexander clan—I can’t believe Aunt Jackie actually said Russell Hall was for “losers.” Turns out, Aunt Jackie is nothing but a bully who kicked Cruise out of his father’s life so she could slather all of the financial attention on her sweet little Penny boy. Little does she know Pen is nothing but a stoner with a man purse.
I pull into the Starbucks parking lot and speed into the cheery-looking establishment to avoid the arctic chill. Much to my surprise, none of my warm weather clothes are capable of keeping my body a toasty ninety-eight degrees. I’ve got some serious shopping to do and not a whole lot of cash to do it with.
“Kendall?” A friendly female calls from the corner, and I spot Lauren and Ally waving me over. I remember them from the Alpha Sigma Phi party. They’re the ones I wanted to go home with, but fate stepped in and I ended up with Cruise instead. Wait, did I just say fate? I so don’t believe in that. Fate is bullshit people force-feed themselves when they’re too lazy to carve out a destiny of their own.
“How’s it going?” Ally chirps as I take a seat.
“It’s great. I meant to find you that night at the party. I guess Pennington missed the housing deadline and now I’m homeless.”
“As in park bench action?” Lauren’s eyes widen as if I’ve just introduced Small Pox to the vicinity.
“No, as in Cruise Elton action. He’s letting me crash at his place, but I can’t mooch off him forever.”
They’re quick to exchange glances.
“So you’re on Cruise control.” Ally sinks a knowing smile. “How’s that working for you?”
“I hear he’s hotter than a forest fire in bed.” Lauren molests her necklace at thought of Cruise burning up the sheets.
“I hear his dick is the size of a telephone pole.” Ally’s eyes expand the size of dinner plates as she awaits confirmation of the supersized theory.
Lauren points at me with her banana. “Stephanie Banks slept with him a month ago and dubbed him ‘king of the triple orgasm.’”
Ally sucks in a breath and her face turns colors like maybe she’s experiencing one herself at the moment. “That is freaking insane. Melissa Warbeck says he can do things with his tongue that qualifies him as criminally insane.”
The two of them look at me as if I were about to verify every sexual rumor Cruise Elton ever sponsored, and add a few unbelievable new ones to the mix.
“Uh…” Dear God. A triple? My entire body sighs at the thought of Cruise taking me down that unknowable path, landing me in a sexual-based euphoria with his rock-hard body pressed against mine. “Actually, we haven’t done anything like that, yet.” Yet? “Technically, we haven’t had a first time, either,” I confess.
“Really?” Ally’s lips droop with disappointment. “So what’s the deal?” She flicks her layered mane until it shags out around her face.
“I asked him to instruct me in his wicked ways.” A devious smile plays on my lips. “I told him I wanted to be just as sleazy as he is when I grow up and asked him to teach me the tricks of the trade.”
“Which consist of?” Lauren seems nonplused by my ability to enlist Cruise as my personal portal to promiscuity.
“I don’t know. It’s like my mouth started moving without my permission, and before I knew it, I was asking him to lead me through the deep, dark forest of debauchery. The truth is—I sort of wanted to, you know, be with him, but I was too embarrassed by the fact I’ve never been with anyone before.” I shrug as though what just flew from my lips was morally sane. “I believe I referred to it as a social experiment.”
“A what?” Ally squints into me with a level of distress, reserved for degenerate social scientists such as myself.