Finally, after what felt like ninety days, Maude had gotten up and said goodbye to us. Apparently she was headed to a flower arranging class and couldn’t be late. She also told us that the flower arranging class was the bachelorette party for her friend who was getting married for the fifth time, at the age of eighty-five, and that she was only going because there was going to be good wine there.
I’d been dreading the moment we were alone, but as soon as the door shut, Jarrod picked up his phone and said we should order Chinese food. Not one to pass down Chinese ever, I’d agreed, and when normal cable looked boring as hell, we’d decided to go upstairs and watch the last episode of The Witcher in my room while we ate the food. I quickly realized that one didn’t just watch one episode of the series and that to truly enjoy it, you had to watch all of it all over again – so we did.
That had started a discussion on the game versus the series, and which was better. I was torn, like actually torn on this one. I liked the series, the game was awesome, the Geralt character in both was hot as hell… I couldn’t make up my mind.
During all of this, I’d noticed how aware of my eccentricities he was. He was overly careful not to drop food on the bed, he didn’t move stuff around, if he wanted to see something he asked and then made sure I was ok with how he’d put it back, then as soon as we were done eating he took the garbage and leftovers downstairs and put it all away… it might not sound like a lot, but not many people were like that. Because of that, when he came back up, I’d told him about how things had been out of place in my room and what had happened to my pictures, and he’d tried to think back over the day everyone was here. The only ones who were actually in my stuff were the twins, and he didn’t think they’d do that because they were moving stuff to organize it properly, not to mess it around.
Not having answers bothered me, but I wouldn’t have put it past my brothers to move shit while they were round here, so I’d just have to cause them pain when I saw them again.
After that, we’d settled down and had watched a movie called Rampage which I was now putting in the top five of my favorite movies ever. I’d started off resting back against some pillows, but soon enough Jarrod had pulled me down so that my head was on his chest and had played with my hair through it. I totally got what Maude meant about it being her happy place!
I hadn’t realized how stiffly I’d been holding myself, though, until he muttered, “Relax, baby. I’m not gonna jump you.”
That declaration made me somewhat disappointed as well as relieved, but it also made me focus on relaxing my muscles. Then I got a wild hair – something that I wasn’t known for – and jumped on him and kissed him, a clean pair of Mario panties and all. There was only so much Jarrod chest on my face I could take, and it really was the only way to get rid of the tension… that was the excuse for doing it at that moment, at least.
Then we settled back into our previous positions, rewound the movie, and I fell asleep on his chest watching it.
Yes, I’d jumped Jarrod, literally. The poor guy was innocently watching an albino gorilla who could speak sign language and give the birdie to Dwayne Johnson (he’d also mutated along with a crocodile and wolf who’d killed the hot guy from Magic Mike – sad times) and I’d launched myself on top of him.
I wanted to die of embarrassment!
Figuring that maybe giving my bladder what it wanted and then going on the lam (or maybe my bladder could hold out while I went on the lam? Not far, just three hundred miles or so) was the best way to escape, I slowly slipped away from him, freezing and watching him when he shifted slightly. When he didn’t move again, I let out a breath and looked down, ready to continue on my way, and came face to face with a bulge under the blanket.
A bulge at his crotch under the blanket.
A blanket bulge.
A Jarrod penis blanket bulge.
And my head was right over the penis blanket bulge. Now, I’m not gonna lie, I’d obviously tried to picture it. Who in their right mind wouldn’t have? It was Jarrod freaking Kline’s penis. Any woman who even glanced at him probably thought about it and it was right under my face, under my blanket, in my bed.