8. Meredith

Chapter 8

Meredith

I shouldn't have cared.

But I did.

When Claire mentioned Aiden's second date with Celeste, and how happy she was to hear I'd helped out her poor downtrodden brother.

Of course, she didn't call him that. Claire would never.

But Aiden was also neither poor nor downtrodden.

That guy knew exactly was he was doing. I suspected that studious gaze of his hid deep knowledge. He just didn't know how to let it out.

Though even that was wrong.

Because he did a fine goddamn job of letting it out with me last weekend.

And now he was going on another date. To let it out with her .

I'd been so anxious all day that I'd picked at my nails and required an emergency appointment after I left school. But it wasn't until I'd tipped my nail technician and said goodbye to her that I received the text from him. Like he knew I was at my lowest.

His message read You have time to come over to my place tonight? Need help.

I rolled my eyes, waited exactly three minutes, and then texted him back. Fine.

His response came immediately. Unit 5: second date protocol.

He thought he was cute.

He wasn't.

He was annoying.

I stopped home to change, then headed over to Aiden's. He lived on his own, in a one bedroom on the bottom floor of a small apartment building. And when he opened the door to me, his answering smile crept slowly across his features.

From behind his glasses, his eyes swept over me. Then he outright grinned. "You look cute."

Aiden and I were nothing more than friends. Nothing but teacher and pupil. Because, otherwise, I would have been calculated.

Always .

I always thought ahead when it came to men. Planned down to my eyelashes and doesn't- it-look-like-I-only-spent- five-minutes-on-myself-this-morning look. Because men didn't actually want reality. They wanted a made-up version of the truth. They wanted pretty without the hassle. They wanted flirtation and fight, but ultimately they wanted to win.

They wanted an illusion .

And I wasn't going to give that to Aiden.

I wore my most unflattering yet comfiest jeans and Kent State long-sleeved shirt that was approximately a decade old. I wasn't cute.

I was his friend.

That was it.

And I was hungry.

Hangry .

I kicked off my shoes and helped myself to flopping on his couch, scrolling on my phone, searching for a pizza place to deliver.

"I've got a date with Celeste tonight."

I nodded, attention on my cell. "Claire told me."

"Got any tips?"

"Kiss her first thing," I said, tapping on the screen to pull up a menu. "So she knows what's up."

He made a sound of agreement and came to stand in front of me, his feet and knees nearly touching mine. "What're you doing?"

"Ordering dinner."

"For me too?"

I was slow to meet his gaze. "You're not having dinner with your girl?"

He shook his head. "She's working late tonight. We're grabbing a drink later."

I heaved out a sigh. "I'm ordering pizza. I like veggie."

"Sounds good to me." He plopped down next to him, his hip and thigh against mine. I tried to shimmy over, but his couch wasn't very big, and there wasn't really anywhere else for me to go.

I ordered the pizza and dropped my cell phone. "It'll be here in half an hour."

He lifted the remote toward the television, and turned it on, toggling through a bunch of streaming services until he found the one he wanted, settling on what appeared to be some kind of science fiction show. I asked about before I thought better of it. "What's this?"

" Monarch . It's Godzilla."

We watched it for a few minutes, but it held no interest for me, and I stood, unable to be near him and his heat and smell anymore. Aiden stayed where he was, knees out, one arm relaxed on the end of the sofa, the other thrown along the back, where I'd been sitting, as he watched me tour his apartment. I pretended not to notice.

I dragged my fingertips over the trinkets littering his desk in the corner of the living room, the random gorilla glue stick, the ring of keys, the stapler, bottle opener, and tiny Rubik's cube. His bookshelf with filled with a mix of video games and books, a complete box set of Dune , as well as a few more Rubik's cubes. I held one between my fingers, scrambling it up, then tossed it to him. He bumbled the catch, and I laughed until he held the toy in his long fingers, turning it from side to side, studying it. Then he twisted, his fingertips rotating the rows and columns, solving the puzzle in a few seconds.

"How'd…how do you do that?"

He tossed it back to me. "Math."

I huffed a laugh, absently spinning the colors around. "You say that like it's easy."

He shrugged. "Not necessarily easy, but math is just following steps. Anyone can do it. It's all patterns. Once you find it, it's easy."

"It's easy," I murmured, then tossed him the cube once again. He solved it in no time, but this time he didn't throw it to me. Merely set it at his elbow as he went back to watching me.

I moved in a complete circle, folding my arms over my chest, the awkward one now. I was in his territory. "So…" I started, aiming for an indifference I didn't feel. "You need second date pointers, eh?"

He stayed quiet as I followed the line of the kitchen counter to his cabinets, helping myself for a look around. I found a can of La Croix and popped the top. "You need to up the tension. You know you get along, you know you like each other, now you need to make it known."

"You want me to come right out and say it?" he asked, watching me with those knowing eyes of his.

"Yes and no. At this point, you're looking for a relationship, and she needs to know that, but also, you want to keep her hooked. Tell her you think about her and look forward to seeing her, but also keep it immediate. Flirt with her. Figure out how she likes to be touched and do it."

He tipped his head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, every woman is a sucker for certain moves. Figure out which ones your girl likes and hit them over and over."

He nodded to himself a few times, his focus on the television, the volume on low. There was no way he could've actually been watching. Then again, he was full of surprises. He probably could hold a conversation with me about flirting while also watching whatever this Godzilla show was.

"How would I even figure that out?" he asked after a while.

I refused to sit next to him on the couch and instead propped myself on one of the stool at the kitchen counter. "She'll let you know. Lean into you. Breathe harder maybe. Touch you back."

He dragged his tongue along his lower lip, biting the corner for a moment. "That what you do?"

"I've never really thought about what I do."

"You like your hair played with," he declared, like it was a fact. Which it was. I did like my hair played with. But I wasn't sure how he knew that.

I nodded anyway.

"You play with your hair a lot," he noted as I dropped a length of my hair from where I'd unconsciously started wrapping a few strands around my fingers. He stood, meeting me by the counter, standing in front of me, so I had to tilt my head back to keep his gaze.

He wrapped my hair around his fist, pulling taut, and used it as well as the hand at my elbow to urge me to stand up. Then he closed the few inches between us, his mouth on mine.

I'd almost—almost—forgotten what it was like to kiss him. I'd worked hard to not imagine what it had been like last weekend, with his hands on his waist, and the hard length of him against my belly as he pressed my back against his car, his tongue soft yet demanding against mine.

Like it was now.

He kissed me like he knew what he was doing.

Like he knew exactly what he was doing and certainly didn't need me instructing him on how to win over a woman.

Because, fuck, he had me.

I didn't know how or when I ended up on the sofa, but he unbuttoned my jeans and pulled them off, followed by my underwear. He rucked my T-shirt up above my bra, his mouth at my nipple, licking and sucking like it was candy. And I was there, dazed and confused, writhing under the wet warmth of his mouth and the gentle but firm pressure of his hand skimming up my thigh.

"I want to kiss you here," he told me, his fingers playing at the sensitive skin between my legs. "Tell me you want that, too."

"I… I…don't…" I panted, overcome with sweat, and ripped off my T-shirt.

Aiden's eyes flared, and he pulled on my hips, positioning me right at the edge of the cushion before removing my bra, leaving me completely naked while he was still dressed.

"You said I need to learn how to touch you," he told me, and I shook my head.

"Not me ."

He nodded, licking his lips and kneeling on the floor in front of me.

"I meant…" I couldn't say her name, but when I'd instructed him to learn what touches turned on a woman, I meant Celeste. Not me.

And yet, here I was, flushed and wet, needy and whimpering.

"I want to learn what you like," he rasped a moment before he tossed his glasses off to the side and bent forward, resting his cheek on my thigh as he dragged his fingertips down my slit, like he was truly learning me. Learning my shape and scent and the exact way I liked to be teased. He played and plied until I couldn't take it anymore, pressing my heels up onto the end of the couch to raise my hips, desperate for me.

"You want it?" Aiden murmured and ran the tip of his tongue along the crease of my hip. "You want me to make you feel good?"

"Please," I begged, my voice sounding far away. I couldn't remember the last time I begged a man for anything. I was the one who made them beg.

"Tell me you want me to make you feel good. Tell me you want my mouth on you," he ordered, and I tunneled my fingers through his hair, grabbing the ends.

"Yes. Yes, I want your mouth on me."

"Tell me you want me to give you an orgasm."

I growled. "Fuck, Aiden. Yes! Give me an orgasm. Put your mouth on me before I die."

He hummed against me, and I could feel his curling smile as he kissed my pussy. I cried out at the first lick of his tongue up the length of me, and I scratched my nails along his neck, exhaling harshly. He used the flat of his tongue, repeatedly licking everywhere except where I wanted him. But just as I was about to tell him, he flicked at my clit, and I jerked in his hold.

He reached his hands up to my breasts, cupping them roughly, rubbing his thumbs over my nipples, connecting an invisible line of fire straight to my clit. He strummed and plucked and never once let up with his mouth. Even as I bucked my hips and crushed my thighs against his head.

"Oh god," I moaned. "Fuck, it feels so good."

He groaned a reply I didn't quite catch in my delirium then formed his lips around my clit, sucking and sucking, flicking his tongue back and forth, and I felt the first spasms deep in my belly, my muscles reflexively tensing and releasing as he brought me higher and higher. He sent me flying with a hard pinch of my nipples and lash of his tongue.

Of their own accord, my legs splayed out in what was most assuredly an ugly pose, but Aiden didn't seem to care. In fact, he backed away a few inches, licking his glistening lips as his eyes roved over me, his gaze following where his hands traced my sides, hips, and outer thighs.

"You liked that?" he asked, but he didn't really need the answer. He had it in my breathlessness, it the way I struggled to straighten myself on the couch. But as I attempted to wiggle into a more attractive position, he clamped his hands on my waist. "Let me…"

"Let you what?" I asked, fruitlessly trying to cover up, since he was determined to keep me naked and open to him.

He pushed my thighs wider, then dragged his palms over my lower stomach and up to my breasts, gently massaging them before trailing his fingertips back down to the sensitive skin of my pussy. He sunk his middle finger into me, rotating his wrist until his palm faced up, his digit curling against the top wall, stroking the spot that made me quiver.

I cried out. "Oh, my god!"

He watched me writhe, inserting a second finger, easing them in and out, rubbing over and over, stealing my breath with every thrust.

"I can't… I can't…"

"Yes, you can," he said with a kiss to my thigh and then pubic bone.

"No… I… I'm gonna…"

"Come? Yes, you are," he murmured and licked at my clit, still working my G-spot. I was wet, practically dripping. I could feel it. Hear it. "Come again, Meredith. Come for me."

I wasn't sure of the last time I felt so wound up and let loose at the same time. Maybe never. I scratched my fingernails over his shoulders, balling the material of his shirt up in my fists, but it only spurred him on, sucking harder, moving his fingers faster.

Heat pooled low inside, and my breath caught as my skin tightened, my muscles tensing. I was going to orgasm again. This one so much mightier than the first time.

"Yes," Aiden murmured, "Yes, come on."

I couldn't speak, could barely gulp in air, and I spasmed, body coiled tight before releasing, but it wasn't just tension that released, it was also spurts of liquid. I gasped, and shifted back as much as I could, both surprisingly high from my orgasm and stunned by the reaction of what my body had just done.

Aiden only wiped at his face, licked his lips, and offered me the cockiest smile I'd ever seen. "Ever do that before?"

I shook my head and blindly reached for something to cover myself, holding my T-shirt over my naked breasts and stomach.

"That was the hottest thing I've ever seen."

I swallowed, unable to form any words on the come down from my orgasm and slight mortification. Never . I'd never, ever in my life, had an orgasm like that. And my best friend's brother was the one to give it to me.

The same guy who was going out with another girl in a few hours.

Fuck me.

I scrambled to sit up, searching for my clothes on the floor, aware of how his couch was soaked. "I…uh…we need a towel or something."

It took him a moment to get up, his eyes still wide and wondrous, a kid on Christmas morning, but he eventually retrieved his glasses, perched them on his nose, and stood, pivoting toward the hall. I didn't hesitate to dress, and by the time he returned with a towel, I was looping at my purse over my shoulder, mumbling an apology.

"Hey, whoa, wait." He snagged my wrist, tugging me into him. "Where're you going?"

"To hell," I muttered, earning a laugh, and he kissed my jaw and cheek.

"Stay. Let's talk about it."

"There's nothing to talk about besides where the fuck you learned that," I snapped, wiggling out of the loose hold he had on me.

"I read a book," he said, like what he just did to me was no big deal. " She Comes First . Why? It wasn't good?"

I huffed and rolled my eyes. "It was fucking amazing."

"Oh. Good." He nodded a few times and then arched his brow. "Is it usually not that good for you?"

"No." I anxiously tugged at my hair until his gaze landed where I played with it, and I immediately let go.

"That's unfortunate," he said with a smug little grin. "They should read more books."

This fucking guy. Cracking jokes.

"Aiden," I whined, and he closed the short distance between us once again, his hand landing on my hip. "It's not funny."

All amusement wiped from his face. "You're right. It's not. Making you come like that is serious business."

I pushed my hands against his deceptively hard chest, keeping him from kissing me because when his eyes locked on my lips I knew he would. I didn't know if I had it in me to say no after what I knew he could do.

"I need to leave," I said, and he shook his head.

"We didn't eat yet."

"Not hungry anymore."

"Come on, you need to eat. You ordered the pizza. Stay."

"No, I can't." I curled my hand behind my back, feeling for the door as he continued to advance on me as I retreated. "What happened…" I deliberately slanted my focus to the couch. "It'll be our secret, okay? A second date doesn't necessarily mean commitment, but if that's what you want, you have to tell Celeste tonight."

I used her name because he had to know she was real. What he wanted from her was his goal.

And me? I was just the girl letting him know he had it in him all along.

I whirled away from Aiden and opened the door. "I'm gonna go."

He followed me out to the hall. "Meredith. Come on. We need to talk."

"Nope." I refused to turn over my shoulder or meet his gaze. "No, we do not. You need to go out with your girl, and I need to…" Douse myself in holy water, I didn't know. Something to take away the guilt of coming on his mouth and fingers mere hours before he went on a date with another girl, while also feeling really fucking good that he made me come on his mouth and fingers so hard my body literally lost control of itself.

It was the hottest thing I'd ever experienced.

I should've felt bad about it, yet I didn't. I wanted more.

I wanted Aiden.

And that was the problem. Because while I wanted him, he wanted something else. Someone else.

I didn't know why exactly Aiden's voice sounded like it had been scraped off rusted metal or why he even wanted my advice, but I wasn't going to be played the fool. Besides the fact that he was going out with another woman in a few hours, he was also my best friend's sister. If he wanted to play the field or sow some wild oats with his new lease on life or whatever, he wasn't going to do it with me.

"See you later, Aiden," I said, and slipped down the hell to the steps of the apartment building and rushed out into the early evening air.

I needed a new vibrator. And to get drunk.

That's what I'd do.

Maybe then I could forget about the thoughtful guy who'd somehow wormed his way beneath my ribcage and made me believe someone might see past the show to my heart.