Page 104 of Lost Boy
“No, you’re not okay?” Ryder comes over quickly, his long legs eating up the distance as his glistening cock hangs thickly between his legs.
“No, you shouldn’t look,” I huff out a little laugh. “You’ve done enough tonight, Mr. MVP.”
A loud laugh pours from Ryder’s mouth. “Your T-shirt predicted the future, Blue. I am indeed MVPandState Champion. Too bad you just jizzed all over it.”
I let out a raspy chuckle. I can’t help it. His smile. His laugh. His jokes. His kindness. And those curls. Fuck, his curls. All of it. It makes me want to be happy. To tease him and be teased back. To love and laugh. And I’m starting to feel like it’s more possible all the time.
I hurry to the bathroom before more of Ryder’s cum drips from me onto the carpet. Cleaning up quickly, I find Ryder lounging in his king-sized bed with a bowl of candy.
I carefully climb onto the bed. It’s high off the ground, and my ass is fucking tender. I try to hide the wince, but I know Ryder is watching my face for every reaction.
“Fallon.”
He sounds stern, but really I’m fine. “Ryder, it’s nothing.”
“You sure? You’d tell me? I got cream if you need it. The directions say it’s soothing.”
“Yeah. I’m fine. Really. What are you eating?” I nod toward the giant plastic bowl of little colorful candies.
“Sour jelly beans. The only acceptable kind. Here.” Ryder grabs a handful, and I open my mouth, allowing him to pour them in. “Even the yellow ones are good. It’s pretty amazing. When is yellowevergood?”
I nod my head. He’s not wrong. These are delicious, not too sour.
He nudges the bowl toward me, and I shove another handful into my mouth while Ryder selects a basketball show on Netflix. Something else I've never experienced because Mom didn’t pay for cable or internet, let alone a streaming service.
I eat a few more handfuls before Ryder sets the bowl on his nightstand, and I snuggle deeper into his side, throwing a leg over.
“You tired?” Ry asks, kissing my head as he squeezes me tighter.
“Mhm,” I hum with a raspy-sounding voice. It’s been a long day for me, and I know it sure has for Ryder.
“M’kay,” he mumbles, clicking the TV off. “Me too.”
The darkness is comforting as silence envelops us. We have the whole weekend and the whole house to ourselves. And I’m looking forward to something for the first time in a long while.
* * *
Saturday passes too quickly in a blur of blow jobs and Georgie’s mystery casserole. Another amazing version of shepherd’s pie. Ryder has kept his phone off, and we told Uncle Joel, Al, and Sofie to contact us via my cell if they need us. No one else has my number, so no one can harass me.
I’m not looking forward to Monday, but at the same time, I just don’t care what any of them think. This is me. This is fuckingus.
Sunday comes, and it’s still a little chilly even though spring is nearly here. I slip Ryder’s letterman jacket on, tucking my nose into the collar and inhaling deeply. Bergamot and spice, my new favorite smell.
We pull into Katie’s driveway, and Ryder honks the horn, not bothering to ring the doorbell.
A girl who looks familiar and our age steps out of the front door in tiny sleep shorts, an oversized T-shirt, and bare feet. She gives Ryder the finger, and he tips his head back with a loud laugh. I guess itisonly ten in the morning. Maybe she was sleeping.
“Ah. Kelsey. What a gem. She loves me, though. Honest.”
I snort. He is utterly ridiculous. Ryder’s charm knows no bounds. Even his goofy, off-the-wall jokes are endearing and lovable. Fuck.Lovable.There’s that L word again. I can’t seem to escape it, and maybe I don’t need to.
Sofie slips out from behind Katie’s sister, I guess, and hustles over with her Hello Kitty suitcase bouncing along the driveway behind her. She climbs into the back.
“Sup, Sofie?” Ryder asks, tipping his sunglasses down to look at her in the rearview mirror.
“Nothing. What are you guys doing today?”
“Thought we could go to the record shop,” Ryder says.
