Fuck Valentine's Day(9)

By: C.M. Stunich

“Oh, baby,” Gen cried out as Lance drove into her and the couch springs went into overload. I was standing in the downstairs bathroom looking into the mirror, wishing the two of them would stop fucking, so I could finish my conversation. In all honesty, I was there first and Gen really, truly was listening, and then that asshat piece of shit had to saunter in and then well, I might as well have turned invisible. They had their pants off before I was even off the couch. I saw Lance's dick for the first time and let me just say, I wasn't very impressed.

“Mystery Man has a much nicer cock,” I said to the reflection who was posing as my fictional, best friend Gen, the one I wished Genevieve Pares would be, but never could because she was too self centered and probably a nymphomaniac. “But what I am supposed to think about the handcuffs? Is he spying on me through my window or something, or is it just a coincidence? Either way, I mean it is creepy, but I just can't get him out of my head. If I was to take all the guys I've ever really had a thing for, it would go like this: Mystery Man, Preston Ellis, Quinn Prentis, and Jake Tandor.”

Rational Andi: Jake Tandor was a douche.

Regular Andi: Can you please stop? You and Horny Andi are like days away from putting me into an institution.

Horny Andi: That's your own damn fault. Go get laid.

Rational Andi: Yeah, seriously, that's your problem. You do need to get laid. I can't deny it anymore. The situation has spiraled out of control. You don't want them to remake the 'Forty Year Old Virgin' eighteen years from now – with you as the main character.

Horny Andi: Yeah, and they won't even have to write a script. They'll just do a documentary and it will be twice as funny.

Rational Andi: Good one, Horny, that was hilarious. Totally. Totally.

“Goddamn, I am fucked up,” I said as I tried to ignore the very early signs of Schizophrenia and trudged back up to my room to get dressed. I had little butterflies in my stomach, butterflies that were completely and utterly convinced that today was the day where I finally met the man whose cock had been riding around in my bag for days. I was certain that he was going to reveal himself to me in the most romantic way, sweep me off my feet, and show me a good time. He was going to be tall with dark hair and blue eyes, muscular but not beefy, and kind. His lovemaking was going to be so perfect, so on point that the Gods themselves would invite him to join them on Mount Olympus. He was –

Rational Andi: Dear God, can you please shut the fuck up?

I sighed, and pulled out of my fantasies. I wasn't an idiot, okay? It wasn't like I didn't realize how stupid I sounded. A guy sent me a picture of his dick in the mail. That's fucking weird. Still, I couldn't help but follow this thing to the end. As long as he didn't ask me to meet him in a dark alley alone and unarmed in the middle of the night, I figured I was okay.

So I dressed myself in a pair of red skinny jeans, a black tank top, some tennis shoes, and a winter coat and headed to class.

Quinn was waiting for me when I arrived.

“Hey there, Andi,” he said, and it honestly took me several seconds to respond as he'd never used my actual name before. Impressive. Very impressive. Quinn grinned at me and nibbled at his sexy lip. His Mohawk was in full form, nice and spiky and straight up and down, gelled to perfection. Despite the chill winter air, he was wearing a white tank that did everything to show off his muscular arms and his myriad tattoos, and nothing to ward off the chill of winter.

“Aren't you freezing to death?” I asked him as I shivered and glanced surreptitiously over at the bulletin board. It was absolutely covered in crap. There were ads for roommates, for tutors, for summer jobs; there were sales flyers for the local mall and the campus bookstore, even ads proclaiming their need for a sexual partner to spend Valentine's Day with. How the hell was I supposed to find Price Albert in all of that? Hmm? I was hoping to hell that he was going to be a tad less mysterious this time or I would never be able to find my next clue, and I wanted it. Oh trust me, I wanted it.

“I was until you showed up,” Quinn said, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around my waist. I was going to protest, to bark at him for disappearing on me yesterday, when his warm lips pressed against mine and silenced all logical thought. Mmm.

“Did you miss me as much as I missed you?” Quinn asked as he pulled back and threw a lascivious wink my way. He brushed the hair from my face as I struggled to come up with something to say.

“Um, no,” I said which was the honest truth. I hadn't missed him, not really. I'd thought about him, but then, that isn't really the same thing, now is it? Besides, I hardly knew the guy. Wet humping aside, we'd barely spoken a dozen words to one another. “Anyway, I didn't appreciate you running off yesterday. Where the hell did you go?” Quinn rubbed at his face with his hand and tried to play off his reaction as nonchalant when I could see that in reality, something was bothering him. The tattoos on his fingers danced enticingly before me as he pretended to itch his face.

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