Six

Mr. Avery Generic Last Name, you do not get to look that fine just standing there with a towel around your waist and your wet blonde hair and your stupid blue eyes staring straight into my soul like they've been doing a lot more than necessary recently!

"Hey," he said casually, although he looked somewhat surprised to see me, "Fancy seeing you here."

"What's fancy about seeing a guy in a locker room?" I replied almost instantly and wait did I have this conversation before? I am really running out of material here.

He chuckled, drying his hair with a small towel as he made his way over to his own locker. Which was like, right next to Toby's. So he was, like, right next to me. I gulped, trying my best not to eye him too much but try standing next to Channing Tatum's shirtless twin brother and not have your eyes fall out of their damn sockets while you drool out the corner of your gaping mouth. However, that didn't stop me from smelling him, because he smelled damn fine, like a soapy lavender garden with a hint of muskiness and minty freshness.

"Because I was just thinking about you."

Ever wished you had a drink so you could spit it out like they do in the movies?

I turned my head to face him, pointing to myself incredulously, "You were thinking about me?"

Ever so innocently, he nodded, his striking blue eyes locked on me, "yeah."

"In the shower?"

He nodded, smiling a little.

"Uh, why?"

"I wish I knew," he muttered, "Did you enjoy the game?"

I blinked at him for a few seconds before clearing my throat. "Yeah, uh... you guys did great. I particularly liked the part where you um, put the ball in the basket."

He laughed, crossing his arms and leaning back against the lockers. My eyes flicked down to his defined arm muscles and by the sheer force of willpower, quickly turned away. "Are you always this sarcastic?" Are you doing this on purpose? Making your biceps pop like that? Do you think this is good for my health in any way?!

"Yeah, pretty much. You got a problem with that?"

"Not at all. I think it's cute."

And then I dropped all of Toby's books with a loud thump. More like, gravity decided it was a good time to assert its dominance and embarrass me.

"Oh, s-sorry," I apologized, why did I apologize, and hastily bent down to pick them up, heat rushing to my cheeks. He immediately crouched down to help, chuckling to himself.

"Here, let me," I glanced up at him through my eyelashes as he unnecessarily busied himself, admiring the way his wet blonde hair fell over his forehead.

"Uh, thanks," I mumbled.

When we both stood up, I waited for him to hand them over to me but he didn't, just standing there, eyeing me curiously.

"Is... there something on my face?" I asked warily, feeling self-conscious all of the sudden.

He shook his head, and instead of handing me the books, uncaringly tossed them into his open locker and shoved me against the cold metal behind me.

"Avery? What are you-"

The rest of that sentence disappeared into his mouth as he kissed me.

Wait, Avery kissed me? I need a double take.

His lips were soft but firm, pressing against mine and urging me to kiss him back, but I was in way too much shock to even react. I mean I knew there was a little bit of tension between us but damn, that went 0 to 100 real quick.

My hands instinctively reached for his shoulders, but I still couldn't decide whether I wanted to push him away or pull him closer. Before I could even come to a consensus on that, he was pulling back and I decided yeah, no, I liked it better before.

His hooded eyes scanned every inch of my face, and I could practically feel the way he was taking me in, sending chills down my spine.

I was pretty sure my face briefly resembled a monkey's butt at that point while he eyed me tentatively, a little too close for comfort, his heavy breaths fanning my flushed skin. I turned my face to the side, refusing to look at him so I wouldn't go weak in the knees and cleared my throat.

"I, uh.... I thought you were straight," I spoke, my voice coming out a little more high-pitched than I was used to.

He let out an almost exasperated breath, his hand cupping my cheek and turning my head so I could face him again.

"I can't stop thinking about you."

Not gonna lie, my heart may or may not have skipped a beat there. But I wasn't about to let that show.

"You barely know me."

"I know." He leaned in even closer, the warmth from his damp skin radiating onto mine, dizzying, intoxicating, pulling me in relentlessly without him even having to try..

"I barely know you," I whispered, eyes lowering to his invitingly plump, pink lips. Fuck me. Both figuratively and literally.

"I know," he breathed huskily, his lips only inches away from mine. "Stop me if you don't want it."

Lord, have mercy on my soul.

I didn't have to wait for him to make the move this time, closing the distance between our lips, my arms flying to wrap around his neck. And oh boy, Avery did not come to play around. He was all over me in a second, every inch of his half naked body pressed against mine, his lips quick and frivolous, his hands running down my body eagerly. Not a second later he had his tongue in my mouth and the rest was history because honestly I was so into it that I couldn't even bother with the details anymore. Like, this was the part in the movie when your mum tells you to look away from the TV and everyone in the room awkwardly listens to the awkward smacking noises and sneaking glances until it ended. Labored breaths and wet noises filled the humid air around us, tongues dancing, hands grabbing and reaching wherever they could. He let out a strangled groan out the back of his throat, shoving me even harder against the lockers as if I wasn't practically already in a chokehold. But I'll be damned if I didn't like it, my fingers entangled in his wet locks as his hips pushed up against mine.

Five. Stars.

He quickly pulled back, maybe a little too soon for my liking, breathing heavily. I slowly opened my eyes to meet his hooded ones again.

In them was a mix of excitement, lust, but most evidently, full on gay panic. And that was probably a good time for me to leave, before the implications properly sunk in for the both of us.

Well, this has been nice.

"I did not expect to like that as much as I did," he breathed, leaning his head against the locker behind me, trapping me against him. I waited awkwardly for a long moment, fiddling with my shirt while we both caught our breaths, but he didn't seem like he wanted to let me go anytime soon.

"Uh... Can I go now?"

He quickly pulled back to look at me, looking so disappointed it almost made me crack a smile.

"I mean, my friend is waiting for me, so..."

"Right, sorry," He scratched the back of his head almost bashfully, stepping back a little, "Can I have your number?"

"Absolutely! Not," I deadpanned, turning around and facing Toby's locker again, finally feeling like I could breathe now that I couldn't see his hot gaze on me.

"Why?"

"Because I'm not willing to be a straight guy's experiment. I'm sorry. There's a lot of other gay guys who are into that but not me-"

"I don't like anyone else," he cut me off. I pursed my lips, dissecting what he meant by that. So... He likes me?

Pfft, no chance. Homeboy's just confused.

"Okay no offense but like... Isn't that a little too shallow? You don't even know anything about me."

"I know you're Toby's best friend. You attend almost every game even though you seem to have zero interest in basketball. You're sarcastic and funny and a little clumsy. I know you're smart, you're on a scholarship and a teacher's favourite. I also know you have a great sense of fashion, one hell of a resting bitch face and the cutest damn smile I have ever seen."

He said all in one breath and yet I was the one that was left breathless. Thankful that he couldn't see the flush that was no doubt forming on my cheeks, I tried to look busy tidying up Toby's locker instead of giving him a reply.

He stepped back toward his own locker and I couldn't help but steal a curious glance through the corner of my eye. He scribbled into the last page of Toby's notebook, before turning and handing it to me along with the rest.

"That's my number. Text me whenever."

I blinked at him, making no move to take the books from him.

"Whenever what?"

"Whenever you feel like it. Whenever you're bored, or lonely, or horny, or just want to talk."

"And if I don't?"

"Please do?" He smiled boyishly, somewhat nervously, handing me the books and letting his fingers linger against mine as he stepped closer.

"Don't keep me waiting too long," he whispered almost imploringly, chewing on his bottom lip. He seemed so uncertain of what he was doing, yet oddly determined.

Just as I was about to open my mouth to speak, the sound of footsteps and laughter getting closer to the locker room had him turning back to his locker coolly, as if nothing had ever happened, as if I wasn't even there anymore. The way his attention was torn away in a split second felt a lot like a band-aid being ripped off an unhealed scab.

Shaking my head at the whole encounter, I shut the locker and briskly walked out of there as fast as I could, not daring to look back.