Make You Mine

Time is refracted here. It speeds up and slows down depending on the circumstance. When we’re on base, the monotony and the loneliness wear on me. As much as I try not to, I can’t help messaging Drew.

Drew: Ruby is the worst roommate. She’s a total slob! I’m always picking up her socks and underwear off the floor. She eats pizza and leaves the box in the bathtub.

Me: Don’t tell me about Ruby’s underwear.

Drew: You’d rather hear about mine? I couldn’t decide between the red lace thong or the pink boy shorts. Want to help me?

I hesitate, my fingers hovering over the letters. Sneaky girl. I walked right into that one. It makes me chuckle. Of course, I want to see Drew’s underwear—more like her cute little ass wrapped in lace—or nothing at all. I push that down and do the right thing.

Me: What’s the dating situation like?

Drew: Ruby dates any boy who asks for her number. I’ve told her that’s dangerous, especially when they start drinking.

Me: You know what I mean.

Drew: You really want to know?

Me: I asked.

The little dots float in the gray bar, and my stomach tightens. My mouth is dry, and I try to swallow. I don’t want to know she did what I said. I don’t want to know some other guy is touching her, kissing her…

Drew: I’m focusing on my studies. Maybe I’ll graduate summa cum laude.

A laugh bursts from my lips. God, I suck at being firm with her.

Me: It’s not a competition, Drew Poo.

Drew: If you ever call me that again

Me: (crying-laughing emoji)

Drew: I miss you.

My stomach clenches.

Me: I miss you, too, Drew-baby.

Drew: Much better. I love it when you call me that.

I love you.

Me: Gotta run.

Drew: Okay. Look after my idiot brother.

Me: Always.

Drew: Food for thought…

A photo appears on my phone, and the blood rushes to my dick. I’m looking down into the V of Drew’s shirt. One side is pulled lower, giving me a clear shot of her pink lace bra and the top of her dark areola.

Fuck me. I lean back, and just barely get my hand over my growing erection before a body dives into the bunk beside me.

“Who won the Kentucky Derby?” Danny punches me hard on the bicep. “Charley Horse.”

“Shit!” I hold my upper arm. “Fuck off, Danny.”

“You’re getting slow, old man. What’s that you’re looking at? Porn?”