The Twins & Me

Four Hands

It's been nearly two months since I met Arlo, and I want him more now than ever. We've been avoiding the topic of sex, and while he doesn't say it outright, I know it has something to do with Oliver. And, honestly, it would be my first time with anyone else but Noah. While the thought doesn't scare me, it does make me feel a little weird. But then I'll look at Arlo smiling, feel his warm hand in mine as he walks me to my class, and his soft lips on mine when we part, and I don't feel weird anymore.

I feel horny.

Arlo's also not been available to hang out outside of campus, which doesn't sit quite right with me, but I can't figure out why. I'm confident in the fact he's not talking to any other girls, though I don't think it'd be my place to ask since we're not officially dating. The furthest we've gotten is the occasional make-out and sometimes he'll feel his way up my thigh during class or studying...

Yes, still horny.

Yesterday, though, when I finally plucked up the nerve to ask him to come over tonight when Lila was going to be working late, he agreed. There was a moment, passed between us, that he understood my intentions. It was almost as if he couldn't hold himself back anymore; whatever reservations were keeping him from seeing me outside of school were gone.

It would have been perfectly romantic except that Lila texted me during my Stats class to tell me she didn't have to stay late, after all.

"Would we be able to go to your place?" I ask Arlo as we make our way to one of the student parking lots. Lucky him, he doesn't have to take the bus.

He exhales, pushing his hair back. "Ollie usually heads to the gym for boxing practice on Fridays, but sometimes he cuts out early."

"Would he mind if I came over?"

Arlo pauses, thinking. "Yes and no. It's complicated."

"Your door has a lock on it, right?" I mumble like a grumpy kid.

He forces an uncomfortable laugh, then stops walking. I turn to face him as some students slide past us.

The sky overhead is cloudy, and we might actually get some rain for the first time in weeks.

"If you don't want to, I understand," I say, backtracking. "Really. It just not might be the right time." And, even though I shaved (everywhere) and dressed in a matching lace panty and bralette set under my clothes today, I mean it—just spending time with Arlo is enough. We laugh a lot together, teach each other things from our classes, he introduces me to his favorite music and listens when I go on relentlessly about the wonders of art I'm just discovering.

He takes in my expression, hopefully convincing smile, and makes up his mind. "No, Wren." He steps closer and leans down to whisper in my ear. "I'm fucking you tonight."

Arlo and Oliver live in the opposite direction of Lila. Their building is newer than hers (it has an actual elevator); tall with glass windows and a nice lobby area. We ride to one of the top floors, and as we step into the clean hallway a tingle runs down my spine. I didn't expect them to live in such a nice place, especially by themselves.

Arlo pauses at apartment 314F for just a moment before turning his key in the lock and opening the door.

It's darkening inside, with the only light coming from the wide windows on the exterior wall. Storm clouds roll in and mix with the colors of the sunset. Past the entryway they have their kitchen on the left, which is small but neat, except for the bottles of liquor lining the island counter. Past that lies the main room; whitewashed wood floors run throughout and the walls are white, contrasting with their large black TV and black sectional couch. A small hallway runs off the living area, and this is where Arlo leads me.