"Stop laughing," I complain. "It's not funny, okay? It scared the shit out of me."

"Okay, I'm sorry," Whittney says, snorting once more before he forces a straight face. "What a sick bastard."

"Well it's not like he's some old, gross guy." I have to give Andrew Griffin credit where credit is due. He's a good-looking guy, as much as I don't want to admit it. "He's only in his mid-thirties."

"Oh. Yeah, that makes it better." He rolls his eyes and an angry huff follows.

My lips lift at the corners. "You're jealous."

"W-what?" His eyes widen, cheeks turning an unnatural shade of red. "No, I'm not!"

"Your poker face needs a lot of work," I tease.

He laughs before punching me lightly on the arm. "Okay, fine. But can you blame me? I've apparently got a lot of competition."

Does this mean he thinks of himself as a competitor? Is this really happening? He's sober right now, and yet, he's telling me all of this.

"I told you I'd always choose you, though. Didn't I?" I lift my hand to stroke his cheek and my spirits soar when he lets me.

Whittney closes his eyes, a smile tugging lightly at his lips, and it looks so damn good on him. "You did say that."

His hand reaches up to grab mine and holds it in his lap as his thumb brushes against my skin. There's a different fire spreading over me than with Andrew earlier. The right, perfect kind of fire that made my stomach fill with heated passion.

"Let's get out of here," he says suddenly.

"Okay. Where do you wanna go?"

"I was thinking a road trip." His smile grows, reaching his eyes for once when he squeezes my hand. "I want to go somewhere no one knows us. Where we won't be noticed. Where we can be...us."

I eye him suspiciously, but I can't hide my grin. "Is this you asking me out on a date?"

When he tenses up, I fear I've taken it a step too far, but his eyes are still filled with warmth.

"Yes." He speaks slowly, as if he's not sure this is the answer he should be giving.

"Where we going?"

Twenty minutes later, my car is filled with snacks for on the road and a sense of adventure. I had to lie to my mom, saying I would be staying over at Whittney's. As much as I hate lying to her, there's no way she would have let me drive us to New York City on my own.

We pass the time on our two and a half hour car ride by coming up with funny abbreviations for license plates, discussing video games, and arguing over directions. Whittney had been very adamant about going to a specific motel and when we pull up into the parking lot, it's an utter mystery to me why it had to be this one. It doesn't look like anything special and he's never been here before so it's not like there are any emotional ties to the place.

I decide to roll with it, whatever the reason.

After we split the money for the room, we run up the stairs to room nine. Someone must have thought they were a comedian, because a subtle 6 is written in front of the number in sharpie. Whittney, of course, laughs his ass off while I just roll my eyes.

Before we are even completely behind closed doors, Whittney's lips already collide with mine. The surprise makes me drop the key and he pushes me further into the room, shutting the door with his foot. I fall backward when I lose my balance after my back legs bump into the bed. Whittney rolls onto his back in laughter next to me and it's refreshing to finally hear him laugh again. It's been a long time since he's sounded the least bit happy.

"Should we order pizza for dinner?"

I smile at the idea. "Sounds perfect."

Half an hour passes until the pizza delivery guy knocks on our door and we devour the whole extra large pepperoni in just ten minutes. With full bellies, we relax on the bed for a bit while watching some TV. My head is on Whittney's chest and my arm around his waist while he plays with my hair.

Everything about this is so perfect, I never want it to end. The conversation with Austin and all other issues don't seem relevant right now. I just want to feel Whittney's arms around me and hear his steady heartbeat.

After the credits start to roll on the screen, my eyes glow with new intent. When I start kissing his neck and trailing kisses downward, Whittney tenses.

"What are you doing?" He asks.

I smirk up at him. "I wanna try something."

He remains tense, but doesn't stop me when I lift up his shirt a little to get to his pants button. I pull his pants down to his ankles and he helps me by kicking them off. After they fall to the floor with a light thud, I trace kisses along the waistband of his boxers.

"Hare - fuck," he groans. "Wait."

I don't wait. He wasn't going to tell me what to do this time. This time, I'm in control.

When I pull his boxers down, there's no resistance anymore, and it's clear why. He's hard and the very sight makes my groin ache as I lean closer. I taste a hint of salt when I lick his tip, Whittney's hips jerking at the sudden contact. A surge of power courses through me at his reaction. Is this how it feels for him whenever he makes me squirm while his cock teases my ass? If so, I totally understand why he loves being in charge.

There's no hesitation when I lower my mouth onto him. I bob my head, taking in more of him every time until I eventually feel him in my throat. A part of me is terrified that I'm doing it wrong until Whittney's hand entangles in my hair and starts moving his hips. He plays into my rhythm perfectly as his heavy breathing turns into a heavy moan.

The grip he has on my hair tugs hard at my scalp. "Harry, I'm gonna-"

Before he can finish his sentence, something sticky shoots into my throat and I start to choke. I end up coughing up what I couldn't swallow onto the comforter.

"Jesus." I cough more until Whittney's snorts catch my attention. "Stop laughing at me all the time!"

I snatch the pillow next to him and hit him in the face with it. A challenging look fills Whittney's eyes after he tears the pillow away and onto the floor. We roll around on the sheets, wrestling for dominance, and I think I have the upper hand until he pins me by my wrists onto the bed. We pant heavily, staring deeply into each other's eyes, and just like that, Whittney's smile fades.

"Harry, I-"

As if on cue, my cell phone starts ringing.

Whittney forces his hand into my back pocket before I even have the chance and looks at his the caller ID. His eyes narrow and he shows the name on the screen.

Bradley Stuart.

I don't hesitate a moment before snatching my phone. Out of pure luck, my fingers maintain a firmer grip and I roll off the bed, cellular device in hand. I glare down at Whittney, who's still half naked.

"Put some goddamn pants on," I order before slipping outside.

The cold air nips at my exposed skin, but it's a welcome change from the heated motel room. I take a deep breath and quickly answer before it goes to voicemail.

"Bradley, hey." I can't help but smile when his name rolls off my tongue.

My excitement is not returned on the other line.

"Is there something going on between you and Whittney?"

"W-what?" This is definitely not a subject I was expecting, and I panic. "Of course not."

He sighs. "You kept saying you were too busy to go on that second date, but you've been hanging out with him the entire time and now you're going on a road trip together?"

Damn, word travels fast. I only told Charlette where I was headed and with who a couple hours ago.

"Did my sister tell you that?"

"Yeah, we talk."

"About what?"

He scoffs. "What do you think?"

My cheeks burn. He sounds irritated, but I don't blame him since I've been stringing him along all this time. It wasn't intentional, but I guess a selfish part of me wanted to keep him around in case things with Whittney fall through.

"Okay. Okay," I sigh. "Whittney and I are in New York City, but it's not what you think. The two of us, we're not together."

"But are you having sex with him?"

We've had one date, so what business is this of his? Bradley and I aren't together either.

"Yes." I manage the word, but wish I would've just lied when he hangs up on me. "Seriously?"

The blinds rustle a little when I turn around. I shake my head, Whittney was most like eavesdropping, as he often does. When I enter the room, Whittney is on the bed, casually scrolling through his phone as if he wasn't just spying on me. I smile at him knowingly.

"What the fuck is that face for?" He barks at me as I close the door.

"I'm just happy to see you," I tease.

He throws a pillow at my face. "Pussy."

***

Hey everyone! I know it took a little longer to update this time, but work has got me beat. But I hope you enjoyed this chapter even though it was a little short. The next one will be a lot longer, so don't worry. 

If you think the chapter's deserving, there's a little star in the corner that can use some love, and comments are always appreciated! Thanks for reading, and...

Until next time,

TheWriterD