Twelve texts and three calls are what I woke up to at 2am. All from Nolan. A series of "where are you", "are you mad?", "is everything okay?", and "I'm sorry" messages. The most recent one was a voicemail from ten minutes before waking up, asking if I was alright and letting me know he was going to come over. What?!
I quickly texted him that I was fine and just fell asleep and to not worry about coming over.
Too late. There was a knock at the door.
I got up, ran to the door and opened it.
"So you stand me up and ignore my texts and calls? What's going on?" demanded Nolan, as he walked past me, entering my apartment.
"I thought you were pissed! I didn't know you still wanted me to come over. And I had fallen asleep. I just woke up to all those texts." I tried my best not to sound like I spent the evening crying myself to sleep.
He turned around and faced me. The light from the bathroom shined on my face, allowing him to see my tear-streaked face. His expression softened. He looked down at his feet and back up at me.
"I was kind of pissed. For stupid reasons. Not even valid ones," he admitted, "but I still wanted you to come over."
I fiddled with my skirt again. I couldn't help it. A man was standing in my apartment. A man was standing two feet from me. A man was breathing on this planet. I looked up at him. My face red and warm. I was so turned on from his existence. In all the time I've known him and been his friend, I never felt this way about him. He was so sexy. He saw my flushed face and took a step towards me.
We locked eyes.
His hand wrapped around my waist and slowly pulled me against him. He cupped my face in his hands, tilting my head upward. "Nolan," I whispered, "take me..."
He pressed his lips against mine as I let out a moan.
We kept kissing as we made our way to the bedroom, undressing each other along the way. He pulled my shirt off exposing my large, bouncy breasts.