With a declaration of love

Instead of answering me directly, Heather asks, “That time when Rick—when he—when I was so upset . . . when you comforted me . . . did Whitney really see us?”

I nod slightly. “She did. I caught her eye, just to let her know that I was taking care of you. I don’t know what other times she saw, or how many; I’m not really sure why she was so careful not to be seen.”

“I am,” Heather says in a low voice. “I’m sorry, baby . . .” She groans softly, then says, “I was such an idiot.”

“Why?”

“How many times did you hold me while I cried over some stupid other boy?” she asks.

“I don’t remember exactly . . .” I admit. “There were several.”

“Whitney must have told Alyssa after that first time,” Heather says quietly. I’m a little confused—I’m not tracking her train of thought just at the moment. She sighs heavily and confesses, “I’ve thought you were cute for as long as I’ve known you. That’s one reason I wanted to be your friend.” It’s all I can do to keep my jaw from dropping.

“It may have been as early as seventh grade—you have to understand, Alyssa and I have always talked to each other first and most about boys and sex—but the first time she told me I was sweet on you was in seventh or eighth grade. After everything went so badly with Rick, she started pushing harder. I wondered why, but if Whitney told her, it makes sense.

“I heard her, and I think I knew she was right, but—to be honest, I liked sex too much, and I didn’t think you could satisfy me. I really liked you, but I lusted after the boys I thought would give me a good fucking. Some of them did, some of them really didn’t. I knew my boyfriends just wanted my body, but that’s all I wanted from them, too. Eventually, the sex always palled, and I moved on to the next one. Through it all, I kept talking about you, and Alyssa kept telling me I should ask you out—she said you really liked me, too, but you would never be able to ask me out, the way I was going—and I always thought about it, and always decided I really wanted to hook up with someone else.

“And then we went off to college, and I realized I missed you. You weren’t there, for the first time in my life—I know that wasn’t really true, but that’s how it felt—and I felt lonely. I started to think I’d been making a mistake all along. So I talked to Alyssa, and I could tell there was something she wasn’t telling me; so I pushed, and she gave me the whole story. She told me about your proposition, and your partnership—and then, she couldn’t help herself, she started raving about you. About your hands and your tongue, how well you eat pussy . . . how big your cock is, and how you’ve given her some of the best fucking she’s ever had. She sounded so satisfied, even smug, and so help me, I felt jealous. I had no right . . .

“That could have been me—could have been us—but I was dating other guys instead. I felt like Anne when she hears Gilbert is dying of pneumonia, like I realized I’d always loved you only when I’d lost you forever. And I’d turned away from you for a reason that wasn’t even true! None of my boyfriends ever satisfied me the way you satisfied her; none of them ate my pussy half that well because even the ones who would do it didn’t want to, and it sounds like your cock is bigger than most of theirs, too. I never asked you out because I wanted the best sex I could get, when the best sex I could ever have had would always have been with you. You were everything I wanted, and I never found out because I never asked.

“Fortunately for me, Alyssa is smarter than my stupid. She knew me better than I did, and she knew she was hurting me and making me jealous—she just couldn’t help herself. She got herself under control and apologized, and told me she had been careful not to let your relationship get beyond business partner and fuckbuddy. She told me pointedly that I had no right to complain if she fucked you, and I had to agree; but she said I was the only reason she hadn’t asked you to be her boyfriend. She also told me that you hadn’t started dating any of your clients, and promised to let me know if that changed.

“So, Andrew, I’ve been planning for this for most of the semester. I’ve been hoping against hope you wouldn’t start dating one of your clients, and afraid every day that Alyssa would call to say you had. I was afraid you wouldn’t be interested in me—and I’ll be honest, I wanted to see if you were really as good as she said—so when we started planning Whitney’s bachelorette party, I thought of you. We needed to loosen her up, it would get you really horny, and I would get to watch you in action.

“That’s why we scheduled her party so early—I didn’t want to wait any longer. And it went so well, and you were even better than I had dreamed, and finally I was going to be able to do what I should have done years ago—I came down, I was so horny—and I saw the note—

“All I could think was, I’d gotten too cute and outsmarted myself. If I’d just met you for coffee and told you how I felt—but I had to doubt you one last stupid time, and I gave all the other girls a reason to try to take you away from me. Especially Kelly—we’ve done that to each other before . . . to be honest, I have more than she has. I don’t know if she wanted you for a boyfriend or an opportunity to get back at me, but I couldn’t really blame her either way. I’d done it to myself again . . .

“And then you came back to me. I can’t tell you how good that feels, or how much that means to me. It means I have my chance back to tell you—Andrew, I love you, and I always have, and I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it, and I want to be with you. I’m sorry I fucked so many other boys instead of you; from now on, I just want you. Will you be mine?”