He's the guy moms warn their daughters about. Bold, outspoken, and self-confident, Brian O'Brien returns to his hometown only to discover some things changed in his absence.
Brian has a new neighbor - a shy, smart girl Leah, who hates his guts since...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I shift in bed, trying to get rid of the weight of something on my waist. A glance is enough to tell it's Brian's arm.
The blinds block out the light; it's hard to know what time it is. I hope it's not too late, and my mom won't suspect I lied about staying at Gavin's. If she finds out, I'll be grounded again, and that's the last thing I want.
I try to break free, and Brian groans. "Stop fucking fidgeting, Kitten, will ya?"
"Are you awake?"
"Jeez, Princess, of course, I am. Who wouldn't be if you move like that? In case you were wondering, the boy's awake, too."
O'Brien moves behind me, and his boy presses to my butt. I'm thankful for the darkness because my cheeks are surely redder than ripe tomatoes.
I scoot away and throw the comforter off me, sitting on the bed. My eyes scan the room for my clothes, but I can't see them anywhere.
"Come back to bed; it's early," Brian grumbles. "You aren't going anywhere, so chill."
"I need to go home."
O'Brien laughs. "The fuck you do. You're staying for breakfast. It's Sunday; what's the rush?"
"Gavin might—"
"He won't come looking for you because he doesn't give a damn about you, Kitten. You're good where you are, which is in my bed. I wish you didn't have any clothes on, but I guess we can't always have what we want."
O'Brien talks a lot. That's old news. But now, as we're in the same bed and more comfortable with each other, I decide to find out whether he actually means what he says.
I lie next to him and face him.
"Morning, Princess." He grins and pecks my cheek.
I blush at his sudden display of whatever it is and gather the courage to say, "I wanna see the boy."
O'Brien's eyes turn into saucers. "What, now? For real?"
I bite my lip and shrug. I'm convinced it's all an act, and O'Brien will invent an excuse to avoid doing it.
Much to my shock, he removes the comforter and places his hand on the front of his boxer briefs.
Clearing his throat, he says, "Boy, meet Leah. Leah, meet the boy."
I'm gaping like a fish out of water, but O'Brien's calm as he grips the band of his underwear. All I think about is I've never seen one in person, and what he has in there seems big.
"Brian!" A female voice sounds downstairs, followed by a male one.
"Oh, no!" I squeak, jumping off the bed.
Brian laughs. "Relax; it's my parents."
"How's that supposed to make me relax? I'm in your clothes in your bedroom!"
