Page 70 of The Quirky Vet
"And I only fell asleep twice."
He's joking.
"Well, after our late-night workout last night, I'm not surprised."
I'm not.
His cheeks go red, and I chuckle.
We haven't had a chance to talk about last night since we both slept through the alarm he'd set. The sound of a blaring car horn jolted me awake. We didn't have time for breakfast or even coffee. We just chucked on some clothes and legged it to the course building four blocks away from the hotel. We made it to class in the nick of time.
"Want to go down to the river?" Muir asks, slinging his backpack over his shoulder as we leave the room. "We can shoot some content."
"Nah. I'd rather get Vietnamese."
"Oh." Muir looks surprised that I'm saying no to making content, but after a few moments of thinking about how fucking delicious the pho at our favourite restaurant is, he quickly gets over it. "Only if you're sure."
"Yeah. TikTok can wait."
That earns me another surprised look.
"In the hierarchy of needs, it goes sex, food, and then social media," I explain as we head out the door.
He laughs. "Maslow would be so proud."
I order an Uber since the restaurant is actually in a suburb about twenty minutes from the city centre. Less than two minutes later, a white Tesla pulls up. Nowthatis cool and something you wouldn't get in Scuttlebutt…mainly because we don't have Uber back home.
"I'm just gonna text Gramps. See how he's doing," Muir says, opening his phone once we take off.
"Yeah. No worries. Say hi from me."
"Will do."
I, for a change, stay off my phone and stare out the window. Buildings and people pass by in a blur, and my mind zones out, thinking back to last night.
Yes, the blowjob was epic, and I'm mightily chuffed that I took to sucking cock like a pro, but it's the stuff we saidbeforewe got to the down and dirty stuff that's playing on my mind.
I guess by agreeing to be exclusive we've entered into a new phase of our relationship, right? Something between friends and boyfriends. The idea of being friends with benefits pops up briefly, but I dismiss it just as fast because this isn't that.
It's more.
It's way more.
Muir said he doesn't do casual sex, and for the most part, I haven't either. I had a few flings back during my uni days, but living in a small town, I'd run out of options pretty damn fast if I were only looking for a one-night stand.
And I have literally zero interest in being with anyone else, female or male. There was a guy jogging with his German Shepherd this morning as we were racing to class. Objectively, he was in the Chris Hemsworth league of hotness. Tall, ripped, handsome, nice face.
Didn't do a thing for me.
Seeing Erin yesterday?
Not one iota of attraction. Some lingering guilt and a bit of sadness at things ending—and the way they ended—which I think is natural, but wanting to be with her? Absolutely not.
I really am seriously digging Muir and only Muir.
"We're here," he says as the car pulls up to a slightly run-down suburban shopping complex. This place might not look like much from the outside, but I swear it's the best Vietnamese food in the entire state. Possibly the country.
"Ah, my boys!" the tiny Vietnamese lady behind the counter calls out as soon as we enter, her face lighting up in recognition.