Aiden goes to a party

“…so I said there’s no way that counts as a proper research source,” Jenna was saying, her expression caught somewhere between amused and exasperated. “It was literally a BuzzFeed quiz.”

Aiden smiled, pulling a swig from his cup. “Honestly? I’d give you the A just for calling it out.”

She tilted her head, brushing her hair over one shoulder. “You’re just saying that because you don’t do any of the readings either.”

“Hey, I selectively engage with the material,” he said, which got him a soft laugh from her.

They’d been talking for a while now, long enough that the rest of the party had faded into background noise. The music still thumped from below, but it felt distant and dulled by cheap walls and too much cheap tequila. The two of them had ended up tucked away in one of the bedrooms upstairs with the door closed, and lights low, from a strip of soft blue LEDs casting everything in a lazy, late-night glow.

Jenna sat beside him on the bed with her legs crossed and a cup held lightly in her hands. She wasn’t dressed to impress like some of the others downstairs, and maybe that’s what he liked. There was something grounded and simple, or direct about her. She was casual, smart, and just a little shy. When she played with a strand of her hair, looping it once around her finger without realizing, it tugged at something familiar he couldn’t quite place.

Jenna turned slightly toward him, and her knee brushed his.

He leaned in slowly, giving her time to respond, and she met him without hesitation. Her lips were soft, joining his in an unhurried kiss. When he set both of their drinks on a nearby nightstand before, he slipped a hand to her hip, she let him. Her fingers gripped the fabric of his shirt. They kissed again, deeper this time now that they were unencumbered by the cubs, and she shifted closer until he could feel the warmth of her against his side.

They fell back onto the bed with soft mutters between breaths. His hand slipped beneath the edge of her sweater, the palm of his hand grazing the smooth line of her waist. She gasped quietly but didn’t stop him, and when he kissed down the curve of her neck, she arched toward him, her thigh sliding between his legs and pressing against his full length.

The heat was building, steady and promising, but just as his fingers began to drift lower, her hand caught his wrist.

She pulled back with a quiet breath and looked up at him, “I’m not ready to hook up like that yet. Not tonight.”

For a moment, he stayed there, with his heartbeat thudding in his ears. Then he shifted back, gave her a small nod, and offered a half-smile.

“That’s cool. I get it.”

They stayed there a little longer, stretched out side by side, but the energy between them had shifted. The closeness that felt electric just minutes ago had cooled to something now just felt kind of awkward. She glanced down at his crotch with a look that almost seemed like apprehension before she lay on her back, staring at the ceiling. She raised her arms until her fingers tangled in her own hair. Aiden watched her for a moment, then shifted onto his own back.

“So,” he said, trying to find their earlier flow as he broke the uncomfortable silence. “You’re really telling me you’ve never even heard of the detention scene?”

She smiled, a little slower this time. “I think I’ve seen the memes.”

He chuckled under his breath, but it didn’t land the same way as earlier. The casual ease they’d built just wasn’t there now. The making out that started so quickly, ended just as abrupt and now it felt hard to get conversation going again. He wasn’t sure if it was her, or him.

She sat up slowly, pulling her sweater back down from where he’d pushed it up. Her eyes darted around the room, as though they were trying to avoid him. “I think I need a drink,” she said, but the cheer in her voice sounded a little **** now. “My cup’s been empty for a while.”

“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “Good idea.”

He stood and pulled his jacket from where it had fallen, slipping it on without really meeting her eyes either. She tucked her hair behind her ear and gestured toward the door, before looking down at him once more.

“I wonder if there’s still some of that weird jungle juice left downstairs,” she said with a small smile.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Aiden hung back for a second, scanning the room. Then he spotted Kyle near the front door, talking with a few guys from their floor when he was still in the dorm.

“There’s my old roommate,” Aiden said, pointing across the room. “I should say hey really quick.”

She paused to look at him and follow where he was pointing.

“And hey… thanks for the chat,” he added, offering a quick smile. “It was nice.”

She returned it with a small nod, but he could see the discomfort on her face at this point.

He turned and started weaving through the crowd toward the front of the house. But he didn’t stop at Kyle, or even slow down.

Once he cleared the porch, the cool air hit him and he took a deep breath, trying to shake off the last twenty minutes. The night had taken a turn he hadn’t expected. Things with Jenna had been going well. Easy conversation, a little flirting, enough interest to follow each other upstairs, even. He hadn’t gone in with a plan, but he’d definitely been hoping it would go further.

Now, walking home alone, he was left with a familiar mix of restlessness and disappointment. His body was still wired, and his thoughts refused to settle. The **** hadn’t dulled much. If anything, it had made him more aware of how little had happened.

He wasn’t mad, she had every right to slow things down, and she’d been as nice as she could be about it. He hadn’t pushed her, nor would he ever do that. But that didn’t change the fact that he was heading home the same way he’d left, unsatisfied, on edge, and fully aware that the night was a bust, and it wasn’t going to fade quietly once he got home.

The streets were quiet, a few porch lights still burned, and the occasional car passed, headlights sweeping across the sidewalk. He kept his hands in his jacket pockets, his head down, and walking at a steady pace with nowhere to be but home since he left the party where all of his friends were.

For a second, he considered stopping for something to eat. Maybe it would help, give him a reason to linger and burn off the feeling. But the thought passed quickly. He wasn’t hungry and once he got back, he knew exactly what was waiting, no matter of how soon or late he got there. The apartment would be dim and quiet, her door would be closed, maybe her light would still be on. Either way, she’d already be in her room and maybe she’d have already gone to sleep.

Regardless of the details, she would be there, just down the hall.

That was the part he couldn’t seem to get used to. Knowing she was always so close, brushing past him in the kitchen or sitting across the couch in one of those tank tops that didn’t hide much. She had no idea what that did to him. Or maybe with all of this flirting she did, and just didn’t care.

After tonight, after getting so close and walking away with nothing, the thought of going back and hearing her move around on the other side of the door didn’t feel like comfort. It felt like a continuation of the party. Just another tease that wouldn’t go anywhere.

At least at the party, there was noise and distraction. Music to fill the gaps. A steady stream of people coming and going, and plenty of cheap liquor to make it all tolerable. But back home, the quiet would be different. It would hang there. And she would be there too, close enough to hear, too far to touch.

He considered going back, the closer he got to home, the more aware he became of the pressure still building in his balls. It wasn’t going anywhere. If anything, the walk had just given him time to focus on it. His jeans felt tighter than they had earlier, as the dull ache became all too familiar now. It seemed like something he’d gotten used to over the past few weeks. No release. No real outlet. Just his own hand in the dark and whatever memory he could work with.

After striking out at the party, going back didn’t sound like a fun option either. Clearly tonight wouldn’t be any different. He would never push Jenna, and he was to frustrated to go start over with another girl tonight.

He adjusted his jacket, trying to push the thought of her aside. She hadn’t been cruel. She’d just made a decision, one she was comfortable with and entitled to, and that should’ve been fine. But all he could think about was how close he had gotten. How warm she’d felt under his hands. How ready his body had been for something more before she stopped it cold. He let out a breath through his nose, sharp and shallow, deciding home was still the better of the two options. At least he could work through some release even if it was from his own hand once more.

By the time he reached the building, the parking lot was void of people. He entered the building, up the stairs and stood at the front door a moment before finally unlocking it. He opened the door quietly and stepped inside, pulling it closed behind him trying to not make any noise.

The apartment was dim, and it took him a second to come out of his own slump before realizing it was being lit by the flicker of the television. For a second, he thought the living room was empty until his eyes adjusted and he saw her on the couch.

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