Senior Year Box Set

“I’m so getting fired,” he said as he went in.

After he left, Lexi turned to me.

“I’m impressed. Why did you really not go through with it?”

I pointed down at Mr. Happy.

“Yeah, right,” Lexi said.

I sighed. My oversized-equipment story obviously wasn’t selling.

“I had a talk with my dad. He pointed out that I need to start growing up. Banging a singer in her dressing room probably doesn’t rise to any reasonable level of maturity.”

“I heard she’s a little free with the goods,” Lexi said.

“That’s why you said to double-wrap it,” I said, suddenly understanding her warning.

Lexi had never said anything like that before, and I’d found it odd at the time. Suddenly, I had a thought.

“Next time, do me a favor and stop me.”

“Stop you from sleeping around?”

“Maybe not that, but if you think it’s a bad idea, give me a heads-up.”

“I thought telling you that you should double-wrap it was a pretty big clue,” Lexi said.

“You forget that I’m a guy, and we’re clueless. We need some kind of signal.”

“Like ‘pineapple’?”

“No. That wouldn’t work because that means it’s ‘go time,’” I said, looking sideways at her. “Why don’t you just give me that look you always give me and say the word ‘no.’”

“So, if it’s okay, I should say ‘pineapple’?”

“You’re no help,” I decided.

“Why don’t we go back to my place for some nice pineapple?” Lexi asked.

“Now you’re talking.”

◊◊◊

I won’t even comment on Chuck and Billie. All I’ll say is ten minutes later, Chuck looked like a new man.

I had Chuck take us to a grocery store so I could make Lexi dinner. I noticed that she picked up a pineapple. When we got to her condo, I let Chuck go for the day. I assured him we were staying in, and if I needed to, I would call an Uber.

◊◊◊

I’d told Lexi I wanted burgers for dinner. She convinced me to make something healthier, so we compromised. Melanie had taught me how to make them with ground turkey. I added apple and onion to the patties before I fried them.

Instead of French fries, I made green bean sticks. I charred them on the stovetop and then tossed the green beans in olive oil, salt, pepper, and garlic powder before finishing them off in the oven. When I first saw what Melanie had made, it grossed me out a little. They weren’t bad, so I decided to prepare them for Lexi.

When I put the plate in front of her, she just picked at them.

“My dad’s heart condition has caused some changes to our menu at home. You’ll like them,” I promised.

Lexi took a bite.

“They’re not French fries,” she complained.

“No. But you said you wanted something good for you,” I reminded her.

“They’re not terrible,” she finally admitted.

I agreed. Given a choice, I would eat French fries over green bean sticks every time.

After dinner, I found out that at Lexi’s house, the rules were different. If you cooked, you also cleaned up. I figured she just didn’t feel like it. In a way, it made sense because my brother had been known to make a giant mess, knowing I had to clean up after him.

It was sort of like our rule about sharing something. If it needed to be split, such as a slice of cake, one of us cut it, and the other got to pick which piece they wanted.

When I came out of the kitchen, I found my PA sitting on the couch, reading an e-book.

Lexi shifted her gaze over toward me, like a cat looking up mid-slumber to see a mouse frolicking across its path. I worried she might want to lick the sweat off my neck. When I was almost to her, she stood up and gave me a deep, meaningful look.

I had to admit, this was much better than hooking up with Billie. While the Alpha Male was all about new and shiny, Lexi was no consolation prize.

I stepped closer, and both of my hands gently slid around the back of her neck. One hand raked through her hair and held her head while my other hand brushed a few strands out of her face. Our lips were close to coming together. I hesitated, allowing the anticipation to build.

As our lips had started to come together, Lexi closed her eyes. So I waited until she opened them again, and mine bored into hers. I didn’t wait any longer. I wanted to kiss her, taste her, feel her in my arms. Our lips lightly brushed in a gentle little peck to get the proceedings started.

I was pleased when she gasped in surprise that I hadn’t kissed her authoritatively, as I would usually do. I always enjoyed my time with Lexi. We both approached sex in the same manner: maximize pleasure. For some reason, this time was different; I needed something more profound, something soft and warm with more passion.

I kissed her again, and our tongues met. We began to do a little dance of building desire. I used my fingertips to caress her neck down to the soft skin of her shoulder. Then I returned my hand to the back of her neck where I could hold her in place.

Our longing began to erode my desire for gentle and loving. The sparks of passion took over in a dizzying rush of anticipation of what was to come.