After practice, I try my best to keep my eyes open in my Auditing and Federal Taxation class, but would rather watch paint dry.
Or eat the paint.
I pull my phone out and scroll past the hundreds of notifications until my eye catches the little bear emoji, and my heart pounds its metaphorical fist in the air.
Bear: Cookies after practice? Craving something sweet. And feeling a tad homicidal rn.
Me: Convinced you are a demonic child disguised in a skin suit—Syn suit, if you will—and sugar is the only thing keeping the horns from breaking through.
Bear: I am hemorrhaging out of my puss. If you were too, I'm sure you'd be just as demonic.
Me: Excuse me? Your period, Syn. You're on your period.
The entire lecture hall twists in their seats to flash me perplexed looks when a laugh slips out. I'm in the second to last row, but I even caught the attention of Professor Mazor. I give him an apologetic head nod, and when he continues on with the world's most dreadful lecture, I etch a harsh glare on my face at all the eyes still on me. I don't think these people were aware I was capable of laughter.
Bear: Period isn't a fitting word for it. Period sounds like a peaceful time. This is a bloody crime scene. It deserves a more aggressive name.
How. Can. You. Not. Love. This. Girl.
No fucks given. Unapologetically herself. Funny as hell.
Me: Whatever you want to call it. Good to know dry humping can't get you preggers.
Bear: ANYWAYS... The girls have it out for me today and I might need you to come and escort me from the gym. You know, to prevent a murder or ten.
Me: Why are they giving you shit?
Bear: Maybe they can sense that I barged into your shower last night.
Me: Fuck. Don't remind me.
Bear: What every woman wants to hear.
Me: No lol, not like that.
I lower my phone and snap a pic of my stiffy to send her, then shrug at the group of girls sitting in my row, watching me and giggling. It's for my girl, I mouth to them, and they stop giggling, and stare longingly at my crotch.
Me: If you ever want to get me hard in an inappropriate location, you've got your ammo.
The room grows quiet again and I look up to see Mazor's eyes in the same place as the girls'. Dude is staring at my crotch. To be fair, I am man-spreading. No shame.
I give him a look that says, What are you gonna do about it? Just continue your lecture, dude. It's not illegal to have a big dick. Everyone gets boners. Mine is just hard to hide.
Me: Prof is currently lecturing to my penis.
Bear: I'm embarrassed to be your friend.
Me: Hey, now. Take that back.
Bear: I take it back. See you at 3:30, Creepy McBoner.
Me: Have fun at practice, Puss Hemorrhaging Demon Child.
Welp. It's good to know nothing has changed.
On my way out of the lecture hall, I am bombarded by three very enthusiastic girls. Class let out at three, which only gives me a few minutes to cross campus and get to the gym. I was kind of hoping to catch the last bit of Syn's practice.
ВИ ЧИТАЄТЕ
Sweet as Syn
РомантикаShe's heart-meltingly sweet. He's deliciously sinful. Greyson Decker is your typical jock; God in the bedroom, king on the field. His brooding glare and shredded body terrifies as much as it turns on, and that gets him as much attention with women...
