by Meghan Quinn
“I believe you,” he said, his voice softening a little.
We stood there in silence for a second, before I said, “I have to tell you this is probably the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to me.” Besides getting a vibrator stuck in my vagina, but I wasn’t about to tell him that.
He chuckled and said, “Well, it’s an interesting story, that’s for sure. How about we start over, get back out on the dance floor?”
“I would love that,” I said as I shifted my legs together, trying to ease the itch.
Damn you, Marta, damn you.
Like a gentleman, Atticus led me out on the dance floor and started twisting me all over but this time, powder wasn’t steaming from my rear end. He smiled brightly at me while he snapped his fingers to the side and his feet floated seamlessly across the dance floor.
He was adorable with every kick of his foot and twist of his arm, pulling me into his chest and then sugar-pushing me away. I snapped along with him and matched his moves step for step.
When Jenny asked me to go swing dancing, I had no clue I was actually going to be set up with a good dance partner. I might even admit that he was better than Henry who was standing to the side, hovering over his girl with the giant boobs while watching me with a careful eye. His date pulled at his shirt but his gaze never truly lifted from me, so I smiled and waved to let him know I was having a good time. He nodded but that was it.
“Who is that?” Atticus asked as he pulled me in close and started twisting me with his body in short but quick movements.
“My friend, Henry. He was actually my swing partner in college.”
“Really? Is he jealous?” Atticus asked with a smile.
“I don’t think so. He’s just protective.”
“Shall we show him he has nothing to worry about?” Atticus asked while wiggling his eyebrows.
“I think we shall,” I said just as Atticus pushed me out and then pulled me back in to only push me back out on the other side. I felt my feet fly across the ground as the music picked up and we switched from East Coast swing to the classic Lindy hop, my favorite.
With every step I tried to rub my legs together, to relieve the itch that kept building and building, but nothing was soothing the tickling; it was almost torturous, because even though I was having such a fantastic time with Atticus, I felt like I couldn’t truly enjoy it.
I was twisting low with my arm out to my side right when someone else grabbed my hand and pulled me into their chest and leading me up and down the dance floor.
“Henry,” I said breathlessly as he picked me up and tossed me over his back in one smooth motion, as if we hadn’t missed a beat. “What are you doing?”
“Having a little fun with my good-time gal.”
“I’m on a date,” I said as I passed him and then flew right into Atticus’s grasp.
He twirled me a couple of times and then started bouncing his feet and twirling around with me in circles while shifting our feet back and forth. He pushed me out and Henry grabbed my hand again.
I looked over at Atticus who was actually smiling, enjoying the back and forth.
“Hold on, love,” Henry said as he picked me up and tossed me in the air in a twist. I luckily landed on my feet and kicked my leg up to the beat. The minute my leg moved up, the itch that was eating away at me was slightly relieved from the friction of my leg against my panties.
Sweet Jesus, it was a little relief, but relief at that.
“Come here,” Atticus said as he pulled me away and picked me up, drove me to the ground so I slid under his legs, turned around quickly and picked me back up. At this point, the crowd had formed a circle and was hooting and hollering with every move the boys made. I was just the pawn in their little game, and to say I was getting dizzy was an understatement. I flung my arms and legs about as I kept up with the fast pace music, trying to concentrate on what was happening next.
“Time for the grand finale, love,” Henry said as he pulled me into his grasp and swung me around. He grabbed me by the waist, pulled me into him so my legs wrapped around his hips, and then he lifted me over his head. I flipped down his back, landing behind him so he could pull me between his legs and shoot me back up in front of him. The crowd around us cheered, and Henry spun me in circles while releasing my hand. I kicked my legs forward, not really paying attention to where I was going, relishing in the relief the movement provided for me . . . until my leg connected directly with something soft.
I looked up to find Atticus lying on the ground, holding his crotch and grimacing in pain. Oh sweet heavens . . . I realized what I did, not from the poor man in front of me, crouching in a fetal position, but because of the crowd’s collective “oof” as they watched me kick my date dead on in the nuts.
At that moment, I was pretty sure I would have taken the cocaine-looking mishap over the fallen man in front of me.
“Should have twisted instead of kicked,” Henry said next to me as he stood with his hands on his hips while we both looked down at Atticus.
“You think?” I asked sarcastically, hating myself.
June 5, 2018
Note to self: excessive amounts of baby powder can lead to a smoking vaginator if not applied properly. Also, one swift kick to the balls can end a date in point two seconds. Next time, keep all extremities to self and avoid the family jewels at all times. Also, possibly invest in multiple sizes of cups to hand out to dates just in case runaway legs get away from you again. Better safe than sorry and boy, was I sorry.
Chapter Seven
The Magnificent Pencil Holder
Embarrassment from last night kept me from rising early and working out like I normally did, instead, I rested in my bed, stared at my ceiling as Delaney’s kitchen singing floated under my door. It was waffle Saturday, and I could smell her homemade treats filter in to my bedroom, tempting me . . . but not enough for me to drag my sorry carcass out of bed.
Last night was so perfect. Atticus was a brilliant dance partner and a real joy to be with. He was cute, sweet, and had some really good moves. He didn’t mind dancing, which was always a turn-on, and the guy could smile to the point that I felt myself melting every time he sent it my direction.
I really thought we had something going for us until my leg spasmed and connected directly with his unsuspecting crotch. I watched in distress as Drew helped Atticus off the ground and escorted him out of the club while the poor guy crouched in a fetal position. I found out later that night from Jenny that Atticus lost his cookies outside of the club from the pain and was too embarrassed to come back in the club . . . and that was the end to my date.
A soft knock played at my door as Henry’s smooth voice flowed through.
“Rosie, come have breakfast, love.”
“I’m not moving from this bed,” I called out as I placed my pillow over my head.
Henry let himself in my bedroom and sat next to me. He pulled my pillow away and looked at me with soft eyes. He was shirtless, like usual on Saturday mornings, and was wearing a thin pair of grey sweatpants that sat low on his hips. His hair was messed and pushed to the side while there was a light five o’clock shadow gracing his jaw.
It was unfair to have such a hot roommate.
“You can’t stay in here all day. Come have breakfast with us, love.”
“I can’t. I’m too mortified to do anything.”
“It wasn’t that bad, Rosie.”
“Not that bad?” I replied as I sat up and looked Henry in the eyes. “Henry, I kicked my date in the balls, to the point where he had to step outside to throw up from how hard I kicked him. By God, Henry, I reverted his balls back to undescended testicles.”
Chuckling and not caring to hide it, Henry said, “Don’t give yourself that much credit. You weren’t kicking that hard.” Trying to sweetly console me, he rubbed my back as I beat myself up about last night.
“He turned green!”
“That’s practically impossible to make such an as
sessment. There was no way in that lighting you could see his face turn green. We have to scratch such statement from the record,” he joked, trying to bring light to the situation.
“I hate that you’re enjoying this.”
“I’m not enjoying it.” Henry’s tone was gentle while he grabbed my hand. “I’m just trying to show you it’s not the end of the world.”
“It is. I actually liked him, Henry. I felt like maybe we could have had something.”
“Atticus, really?” His nose twisted to the side.
“Yes!” I pushed his shoulder, erupting a laugh from his chest.
All joking aside, he continued, “You still could go out with him you know.”
“Henry, pretty sure I burned that bridge the minute my foot connected with his nut sac.”
“You never know, he might have liked it—”
“There is something wrong with you,” I said as I threw my blankets to the side and put on my slippers. I headed out toward the kitchen where Delaney was spinning around the kitchen. Derk sat at the bar and watched Delaney with dreamy eyes. It was obvious by the way he admired her that they would be getting married at some point in time. If only I had someone like Derk, minus the hideous name.
“There’s our little nutcracker,” Delaney called out while pointing at me with her spatula.
“Ha, ha, very funny.” I slumped on a stool next to Derk, who put his arm around me in consolation.
“Don’t sweat it, Bloom, I’m sure the guy has already forgotten about it.”
“Would you have forgotten about a girl with powder coming out of her privates who kicked innocent balls?”
He thought about it for a second and then shook his head, no. “I would be posting that on my Twitter any chance I got.”
“Derk.” Delaney scolded him but laughed at the same time. What a friend.
“It’s going to blow over,” Henry cut in as he poured me a glass of orange juice. “You need to let it go, because you have a date tonight, don’t you? With that cat photographer?”
“Ooo, a cat photographer, that seems exciting,” Derk said.
“He’s not just a cat photographer,” I said, rolling my eyes. “He occasionally shoots pieces for us. He likes to spend his time traveling and doing photo shoots for travel magazines and has even had some of his photos in National Geographic. He helps us out on occasion for some easy money.”
“World traveler, seems interesting. Is he hot?” Derk asked while forking a couple of waffles onto an empty plate. He was a giant of a man, like a six-five giant, and he ate like one. He could inhale one waffle in two bites, and by the look of his plate, those weren’t his first.
“He’s hot,” I said, thinking about Lance. “He’s got this whole Justin Timberlake vibe to him, you know, post Raman Noodle hair.”
“Don’t knock the noodles; you know it was hot back then,” Delaney warned.
I held up my hands in defense. “Just wanted to be clear, that’s all.”
“They’re going bowling,” Henry said over the lip of his coffee mug. “Don’t you think bowling sounds fun tonight?” he asked Delaney and Derk whose ears perked up.
“It does. I think it’s time we dust off our bowling shoes, don’t you think, sweetie?” Delaney asked as she put some waffles on a plate for me.
“Don’t you three even dare.”
“Why not?” Henry asked, looking a little hurt.
“I don’t need you guys peeking over the ball shelf, staring at me, watching my every move. I already have to deal with meeting his friends. I don’t need to think about you three watching me as well.
“We’d be there to help,” Henry offered.
“Yea, much help you were last night.”
After drenching my waffles in strawberry syrup, my favorite, I cut them up in small pieces like a child and started eating them, ignoring the glare Henry was giving me. I knew he’d tried to help last night, but all he did was make matters worse once he started the dance-off with Atticus.
Oh, poor Atticus and his balls. I really hoped he was okay and I didn’t do any permanent damage.
“Are you mad at me?” Henry asked as he pulled up a stool next to me. His warm hand went straight to my thigh.
“No,” I sighed. “It’s not your fault. It was just bad luck and a need to itch the godforsaken red brick road.”
“Is it still bothering you?” Delaney asked, now sitting with us to chow down on some waffles.
“Not as bad as last night.”
“Well, that’s a good sign, you should be clearing up soon. Happened to me when I first got waxed too. Remember that, Derk?”
“Yeah, looked like a fucking ant farm grew on her crotch. Couldn’t touch her for days.”
“Thanks,” she said, as she chewed on some waffles. “Any interest from the online sight?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I forgot about it,” I admitted.
With all the action between Atticus and Lance, I completely forgot about Henry’s attempt to get me into the dating world. I hated to admit it, but I was just the tiny bit curious whether men thought I was interesting or not.
“Well, let’s see,” Delaney said while grabbing Henry’s tablet off the counter. “What was her password again?”
“Takemyflower. One word,” Henry said with a mouthful of syrupy waffle.
“Oh that’s awesome.” Derk laughed. I assumed he knew about my little chastity belt because whatever Delaney knew, Derk knew. It was some kind of couple’s code; they knew everything. It was a BOGO when handing out information, you tell one, the other is going to know. I was okay with it since Derk was a nice guy.
“Oh my God, sixty-seven responses.”
“Are you serious?” I asked, almost choking.
“Yes.”
She turned the tablet in my direction and sure enough, there were sixty-seven requests waiting for me to read. That can’t be right, can it?
“How can I even filter through those?”
“Don’t worry, I’m already on it,” she said while scrolling through the requests and deleting the ones she apparently didn’t like for me. “Bald, ugly, fat, small nose, sporadic facial hair, bald, loves Nickelback—go bury your head in a hole.” She looked up from the tablet. “No friend of mine is going to date someone who listens to Nickelback. No way in hell.”
“Agreed,” Henry said, raising his fork to the sky.
“What’s wrong with Nickelback?” Derk asked.
All three of us turned our heads and stared Derk down. Delaney took a deep breath and said, “Sweetie, I think for the sake of our relationship, you should rephrase that question.”
Derk’s eyes bounced back and forth as he looked at all three of us. Finally he said, “Uh . . . fuck Nickelback?”
“Yeah,” we all cheered, confusing the hell out of Derk, but instead of pushing his luck, he shrugged his shoulders and picked at the fruit in the middle of the counter.
“So any good prospects?” Henry asked. He looked over at the tablet in Delaney’s hands.
“There is this one guy. His name is Alejandro and seems to be really nice. Look, a picture with his little sister, how sweet.”
“Alejandro, that rolls right off the tongue nicely,” Derk said.
“Let me see this guy.”
Looking irritated, Henry pulled the tablet away from Delaney and started assessing Alejandro’s profile. His brow creased, and a sneer snagged his lip as he read about my potential date.
“It says here that his job is an artist. That’s a hobby not a job, can’t trust those guys. Oh and look, he has a pet iguana, that’s stupid.”
“There is nothing wrong with a pet iguana,” Delaney countered. “He would be perfect for Rosie. Clearly the guy is handsome with that thick black hair of his and dark eyes. You know he would romance our girl and that’s what she needs. His Latin love would spice up her life.”
“I don’t like him,” Henry said.
“Well, thankfully, it’s not up to you, it’s up to Ros
ie.”
Without warning, Delaney snatched the tablet from Henry and handed it to me.
“See for yourself. He’s handsome, he looks fun, and you know he’d be able to melt the panties right off you. You would have no problem relaxing around him.”
The profile picture on the screen showed a man who seemed to be in his late twenties, wearing a bright teal tank top—which showed off his muscles nicely—and a pair of sunglasses on top of his head. The background was some foreign coastline where the water was as blue as his shirt. His smile reached cheek to cheek, and I realized that he could possibly be one of the prettier men I had ever seen. He wasn’t rugged . . . he was more suave.
“He’s attractive,” I mumbled as I looked through his profile. I was kind of shocked and flattered that such a pretty man was interested in me, to say the least. There was a message in my inbox from him so I decided to look at it.
Hi Rosie,
I couldn’t help but write to you after seeing your profile picture. Your red glasses caught my eye along with those beautiful blue eyes of yours.
After further stalking, I saw that you love tacos, making you a girl after my own heart. I can’t get enough of tacos. They are my one and only addiction. If you’re not too busy, maybe I could take you out for some amazing tacos not too far from my apartment. I promise you, they are the best tacos in New York City.
What do you say?
Waiting your reply – Alejandro
“Well, he seems sweet.” I blushed.
“He wants to take you out for tacos,” Henry said. “How is that sweet?”
“He wants to eat your taco.” Derk chuckled to himself.
“Watch it,” Henry warned uncharacteristically. “I don’t like Alejandro. I don’t trust him.”
“You don’t even know him,” Delaney said, while she gathered everyone’s empty plates. “Write him back, Rosie. Set up a date.”
I studied Alejandro’s profile some more while Derk cleaned up for Delaney like the dutiful boyfriend he was.