Dear Diary, it wasn't love

19

Dear Diary,

I have been staring at his beautiful face for the better-half of an hour, now. I am starting to feel like a bit of a stalker, but I can't help myself.

He is so damn sexy.

Finally forcing myself to give the man some breathing room, I turn to unwind myself from his hold, but his grip over my body tightens and prevents me from turning away from him.

Then he smiles.

Damnit. He was awake.

"Should I pretend to be asleep longer until you get enough?"

My cheeks instantly redden and I shut my eyes as if to hide from my embarrassment.

"Do you ever sleep?" I playfully hit him, earning the most beautiful chuckle a woman has ever had the pleasure of hearing.

Boy, I am smitten.

And it's only been a day.

"It's hard to sleep next to you when your ass inches its way into my dick every so often. I had to turn you over to give you and my boner some breathing room."

"Oh please. Don't act as if you were doing me any favours," I hum.

"I was doing you the favour of not waking you up at a quarter-to-three for a quickie." He winks and shifts his body weight so that I can finally remove myself underneath him.

I pull on a pair of sleep shorts and check my phone.

"We have exactly forty-minutes before we need to get to campus, Romeo." I hurry to gather my things in my bag before heading into my bathroom.

I hate being late.

"And here I thought I was Satan's spawn!" he shouts from the bed, earning a smile from me in return.

Once we both get ourselves ready – with our coffees in hand – we make our way towards the elevator.

"I'll drive you." Ryder grabs my car keys from my hand and throws them back into the ceramic bowl underneath the artwork.

"Oh, and will you also give me a ride home later today?"

"I can do you one better and let you ride me at home, later today."

Ladies, I walked into that one.

"Don't worry, I will drive you to that pretentious sorority of yours so that you can make your Charter meeting tonight at seven."

We step into the elevator and he puts one heavy arm over my shoulders.

"I don't recall telling you about my Charter meeting, yet you knew last night. Who's the stalker now?" I laugh.

"Irene sends thorough-texts to the frat daily," he says.

"Oh? You guys are going to be there, then?"

"Nope. She told us to keep away from her girls tonight so that you are all in your right mind for tonight's Charter meeting at—"

"—At seven," I chuckle.

"And to think you were falling behind in school for being slow," he muses.

I scoff.