Date Me

The tops of Aiden’s cheeks turn slightly pink. “Yeah, I’ve, uh, got a sore throat. Wanted to get it checked out. Don’t want to be sick for the big game.”

Dawson slaps him across the back. “Good plan. We don’t want to disappoint all the alumni. Dean would be pissed off for a week. And you know what happens when he gets pissed off.”

Aiden nods in agreement, but I say, “What happens?”

“He just gets all pissy, which causes the teachers to get pissy, which causes our dorm advisors to pay more attention than we’d like. But we’re lucky we have Aiden. Everyone thinks he’s a good boy. That’s why we always party in his room.”

Aiden grins back at Dawson, but there’s something there. Something fleeting in his eyes.

After a surprisingly pain-free removal of the stitches, Dawson says, “You did good. Let’s go celebrate.”

“We’re going to celebrate getting my stitches out?”

He holds up the passes the nurse gave us. “Did you notice how I distracted her with questions when she was filling these out?”

“You were asking a bunch of dumb questions.”

“Yeah, she’s not a good multi-tasker. See this line where she’s supposed to write what time we left? She didn’t fill it out. That means we can go have some fun. And we need to have fun this week. When you start play practice next week, you won’t have any time for me.

“I like fun,” I say. “And I’ll make time.”

“You know what today is, right?”

“Tuesday?”

“Yeah, what else?”

“Pajama day?”

“Try again.”

“Uh, Taco Tuesday?”

“It’s our a

“We have an a

He grins. He’s got his school blazer off and the sleeves of his oxford rolled up. He looks so damn sexy.

“Yep.” He pulls my waist into his. “It’s been a month since our first time.”

“Our first time. As in when we had sex in the Hamptons?”

“That’s a night worth remembering, don’t you think?”

“Is it bad that we’re celebrating our sexual a

“I don’t think so. It’s when we got together.”

“True.”

“So I have plans for you after Taco Tuesday, but since we have some extra time now, we might as well take advantage of it.”

“How are we going to celebrate this a

“Exactly the way it started.”

He pulls me inside his dorm and pushes me against the door, kissing me. He drops his jacket and backpack on the common room sofa then pushes me against the wall in the hallway. He’s kissing me with that same intensity he did that first night. That night I knew there was no way I could resist him.

We work our way down the long hall. His hands are feeling their way across what’s underneath my sweater.

After seriously making out down the hall, we finally make it to his room.

He pulls my sweater off and takes in my little pink knit camisole set.

“Very cute,” he says.

“Take it off me. There might be something underneath that shouldn’t be categorized as cute.”

He gets a naughty grin on his face and slowly pulls up my cami, revealing a sexy black lace Agent Provocateur push-up bra.

He licks his lips, kisses my cleavage, then slowly pulls down my shorts to reveal the teeny matching briefs.

He stands back and looks at me. Then he literally leaps on top of me, pi

“You always ruin my plans,” he says, as he strips his own clothes off.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

As he pulls off my panties, he says, “I always think I’m going to be able to go slow. I can’t go slow with you.” He covers my mouth with his and quickly proves his point.

A short while later, we’re dressed and heading to class.

“We’ll go to Taco Tuesday tonight, but we’re leaving early. Go

“Where are we going?”

“Back to our lake.”

As in the lake where we parked and did it standing up against his car.

Dawson is like a sexual buffet. I never know what to expect, what’s going to be next in line. But I definitely want to keep going back for more.

Looking like a slut.

Lunch

Dawson and I are in line getting lunch. Whitney and Peyton are ahead of us and Peyton is getting chewed out.

“What is your problem lately? You go on one trip with Dawson’s little plaything and come back looking like a slut. Did she help you pick out those furry heels?” Whitney asks, scowling at Peyton.

I give Dawson a look. Like, what a bitch.

Dawson winks at me, walks past me, and smacks Peyton on the butt. “Looking pretty sexy there, Arrington.”

Peyton jumps slightly from the smack, but her face breaks out in a wide grin. A smirk, really, directed at Whitney.

Whitney doesn’t bite though. “My point, exactly.”

“Whitney, I don’t tell you how to dress. Why would you think you could tell me?”

“Because the five of us have dressed alike for every spirit day for the past three years, maybe?”

Peyton shrugs. “Well, if you were on the dance team, you’d understand. Sometimes you get tired of dressing like everyone else.”

Oh. Damn. She just slammed Whitney for not making the dance team.

Peyton’s bitch is totally coming out.

But I’m worried about her because I know what happens when you go up against a Queen.

You become just as big of a bitch as she is.

I want to tell Peyton it’s not worth the fight. Just do your own thing.

Then Damian’s song starts playing in my head. Just do your own thing, do it up big, rocket to the moon, now everybody sing.

I think maybe I need to get Peyton to listen to that song.

I get my food then go to our table.

“That was sweet of you,” I whisper to Dawson as I set my tray down.

“So you have to help me win Mr. Eastbrooke,” he replies.

“What’s that?”

“It's a contest we have every year. The competition is held during the pep rally on Friday. Each boys’ sport chooses a junior or senior to represent their team. I got picked to represent the football team. It’s a big deal.”

“What do you have to do?”

“Dress up like a girl.”

I laugh. “Seriously? And you want to do that?”

“Of course. It's awesome. So you have to make me look pretty. I’ll need makeup, a wig, heels, and an outfit. We all walk out in heels and wave at the crowd. Then we have to do either a dance or a cheer.”

Bryce adds, “Everyone votes by clapping for their favorite.”

“Hmmm. I just can't picture you as a girl.”

He runs his finger down my arm. “Just think. You can grind all up against me and pretend I’m a girl. Only when you take me home, I’ll have a little surprise for you under my skirt.”

“I can handle the clothes. Do you want me to help you with a dance too?”

“No. Honestly, even though it’s always an option, no one ever dances. A cheer is a lot easier to learn. Riley said Ariela could teach me one.”

I finish up my lunch quickly, then tell Dawson I have some stuff I need to do. What I need to do is work my way around the freshman tables and start suggesting they vote for Peyton.

He’s sweet?

5:30pm

I’m just finishing up tutoring Aiden in the library when Dawson texts me.

Dawson: I’m STARVING and ready to start celebrating ;)

Me: I’m about done. Be there soon. Heart you.

“So I have to get going. A bunch of us are going out for Taco Tuesday.”

“I’m going to Taco Tuesday,” Aiden says. “Riley invited me, but he said it was a guy thing.”

“I’m the only girl that goes, usually. Well, so far, anyway. Dawson and I won’t stay all that long though. He wants to go celebrate.”

Shit. I shouldn’t have said that. Now he’s going to ask what we are celebrating. How we’re going to celebrate.

“I heard him say something about a special day this morning. What are you celebrating?”

“Um, just our a

“Yeah, but a