He closed his bedroom door harder than necessary and paced the short space furiously.

“What the fuck is wrong with me.” He groaned and collapsed in his bed.

His erection pushing at his boxers and sweats with unneeded irritation. She’d hit him, in the face, and even that couldn’t stop his racing thoughts.

The smell of her sweat, her short breaths, her flushed face, the fucking smell of how wet she was. He groaned out again hard as he messaged himself through his sweats. He was despicable but it didn’t stop him. Knowing that he was right, and she had fantasized about him coming with her almost had him finishing right there.

He ripped the shirt he was wearing over his head and kicked his clothes off until he was naked in his bed, roughly pumping himself to her.

It was the way she had looked all day, or bent over in the fridge, the way she looked at him, spoke to him, the way she smelled still festering in his nose. He came hard, with a groan and hot breaths pushing out of him. He dropped his arm over his face and caught his breath. He really was horrible.

He was mopping up his shame when he heard a quiet knock at his door. He startled and fumbled for words.

“Just a sec.” His voice was raw and guilty.

He glared furiously at the ceiling, throwing his sweats back on as quickly as he could.

He knew she knew what had just happened with just one look at her. Her eyes wide at his bare chest and still half-hard erection fully displayed by his sweats, he dropped his one hand to cover it letting his other hand squeeze the door tightly.

Her blush was so freaking cute he wanted the slam his head in the door.

“I- look…” he started trying to explain the scene before her.

“I’m sorry!” she blurted out. “I’m so sorry for doing this to you and leading you on and all the really dumb, childish, slutty bullshit I’ve been pulling. It’s not fair to you.” Tears started forming in her eyes. “You and James are friends and I’m doing something truly terrible to you with all this.”

Tears were falling now, streaming down her beautiful face.

“No, no, shush.”

Unable to stop himself, he leaned down and wiped away her tears and held her face in his hands squishing just slightly.

“Now listen to me. This,” gesturing around him, “is not your fault. It’s mine. I pushed back, I flirted and today I crossed every line with you without your consent whatsoever. This mess, this tiff you’re having with James. My fault. I look, I stare, and today I touched and that is mine and only my fault.”

He looked her hard in the eyes her face pressed between his palms.

“Not yours.” He added.

She shook her head as much as she could, but he stopped her and forced her head in a nod.

“Yes Brayden, you’re right Brayden.” He mimed for her.

She smiled just a little then and pulled her face away.

“You’re a good girl Ann, and I’m a slut, this is just a crush, don’t worry about me.” He smiled weakly back at her.

He was a slut, or he used to be. He hadn’t thought of another girl or sex with anyone else in months.

“But I’ve never had a crush like this.” She whispered just as weakly back.

He’d been referring to his own feelings, downplaying them for her. But there it was, an active admission of a crush from her for him. He balked at her. She looked confused for a second and realized what he’d admitted and what she had admitted too by fault.

“It’s just a crush.” He reemphasized.

“Is it?” Her eyes full of every kind of emotion, a flurry of guilt, hope, regret, longing, hatred, fear.

“It is for you.” He pleaded.

He just wanted her to go away before he did something he’d regret or worse, that she would.

“He locked me out.” Sensing him pushing her away.

“He did what?” Brayden snapped.

“It appears I’m to sleep on the couch.” She mumbled, “and I came to ask for a pillow or extra blanket but then I saw you… and I just had to apologize.” Lillian spilled.

That pissed Brayden off. Why was James punishing her for something he did? He growled and closed his door.

Lillian stood there a little shocked and very hurt, the tears threatened to come again as she heard him moving inside the room.

Brayden rushed and picked up his dirty clothes and kicked the towel he used earlier under his bed, he triple checked his sheets were mildly clean, with no odd stains anywhere. He grabbed a single pillow and his smallest blanket and threw open his door.

He didn’t even consider how slamming the door in her face would make her feel he realized, as he looked at the weepy and started girl before him.

Since he clearly had left all his sense behind this afternoon, he wrapped her up in his arms in a tight furious hug and whispered:

“I’ll sleep on the couch.”

He didn’t even give her the chance to wrap her arms around him before he’d let go and steered her into his room. She began to object.

“No.” Brayden stopped her. “He won’t punish you for what I do.” He snapped.

“But those couches are way too small for you to sleep on!”

“Don’t worry about it.” He whispered, pointing her to his bed.

His bed. She was sleeping in his bed, and he wasn’t? How odd, he thought. He let the feeling wash over him and shook his head.

“Go.” He pointed again.

She took tentative steps to his bed and looked back at him.

“Thank you, and I’m sorry I hit you.”

He went to move toward her. To hug her? Kiss her? He wasn’t sure but he did stop himself.

“Get some sleep.” He muttered and walked away.

He flopped onto one of the couches, clearly designed for sitting not sleeping and flipped on the tv. He let some show he’d been half watching murmur around him as he laid there, getting comfortable and thinking about the day.

He really was stupid; he should have never sat down with her. He was causing her pain, so unnecessarily. It didn’t matter if she moved slower for him, or laughed prettily at his jokes, or batted her eyelashes. She never would have done anything else. It was a crush that would have faded.

Now he’d left all these cards out for her to see, for her to consider in her next play. How stupid could he be? She didn’t need that, she was happy to play not knowing any of these cards, just playing for the sake of playing, for fun, for being young and beautiful. He had given her stakes.

He yawned and stretched. Rolling over in a fury. He was so stupid. In the end, he did fall asleep, though not for long.