A/N: I hope no one has forgotten this. So sorry for the long wait. Life. Writer's block. You know how it is. Nevertheless, enjoy!


||Bonnie||

I sat on the edge of my bed and unbuckled the ankle strap to my heel. I didn't even bother to try to listen to the quiet footsteps walking around the apartment. I didn't even bother to try to close my bedroom door all the way and turn the lock as quietly as possible. I simply crossed my right leg over the left and leisurely snaked the strap out of the clasp and took off my shoe, wincing slightly.

A floorboard creaked. I paused. I'm numb just like my cold fingers that now trailed over my bare legs, my thighs, up my ribs, over my breasts, and landed on my neck where I squeezed just the tiniest bit.

The floor creaked again and I could feel him pause. The nerves under my skin—they react. Tightening and making certain areas of my body peak and become swollen, turgid. Erect. Hard. I squeezed my thighs together, sighed, and began to work on removing my watch.

I stood from the bed. One strap of my dress fell off my shoulder exposing a bit more cleavage. The girls have been pressed and squished together in padded underwire, but not the least bit secure. If I had bent over too far at any point tonight they could have spilled out at any moment. I'm sure that would have made plenty happy and just as many unhappy.

That sensation you're being watched creeped along my skin, and my ears did try to detect any hint of movement or sound. It's a natural reaction. I couldn't control it but I didn't have to give it my hundred percent focus.

But as soon as that sensation came, it passed and the air has gone still again. It's nothing but illusion because I knew I was not alone and I knew precisely who was in my house.

Just beyond that door was another pulse beating in another body. A body twice the size of my own. A body that's slightly younger than I am. A body with a cock attached to it that I've seen its owner tug and massage until he came. I could feel that body on the other side of my door, shoulders subtly rising and lowering as his chest rose and fell with each breath. A body primed to beat, smash, crush any obstruction to pieces if it meant getting to me much faster.

I should be tired and ready for bed since it's been a long day. I should be ready to close my eyes and get some much needed sleep. I should be anything than what I am.

Fucking horny.

I turned from the door and reached for the zipper to my dress. I pulled it down and bit into my lip as its death grip loosened on my body. I sensed him holding his breath. I could feel the heat from his eyes as he spied on me through the crack in my door. I could taste the saliva on his tongue that he dragged across his bottom lip. I could smell his musky scent as the cool air in the apartment became humid. He's a tightly wound string, a dam with one too many cracks in it, live wires, a dick one stroke away from shooting cum, a bomb that's about to blow.

My dress lowered and caught on the hills of my breasts clinging to my fleshy mounds with a prayer. I didn't wear a bra tonight. One wasn't needed since the dress came with that kind of support built in.

Just a hint of nipple was visible as I began to work the material down my hips. The creak in the floorboards came again and just under that…a tortured moan. I shifted sideways offering a view of my body in profile.

That was enough.

The door burst open. I actually did let out a gasp of surprise as hands gripped my arms and I'm subsequently spun around and thrust on the bed. My hair flew all over the place obscuring my sight, but I blinked at the stands stabbing my eyes.

Bouncing on the mattress, breasts jiggling uncontrollably, I didn't have time to scramble to escape as he wedged his weight between my splayed thighs. My wrists were entrapped in his large hands and pinned to either side of my head. Every time he exhaled a hard breath, it tickled my nose and cheeks.

Shaking my hair out of the way, a lock covered my right eye. I glared at him with the left and noticed he's distracted. That's when I felt a draft. My entire left breast was exposed, my nipple dimpling into a hard bead. He stared at it. Stared to the point I believed he's slipped into a trance. His jaw twitched as he warred with his need to wrap his mouth around my nipple and flick it ceaselessly with his tongue. I want him to. I want him to suckle, nip, lash my pearl with his tongue. Get it wet, moist, and so sensitive I could barely stand it.

As he gazed with the kind of mindless wonder of a pubescent boy who's never seen tits in his life, he unconsciously or maybe even consciously ground his dick into my mound. His stomach kissed and retracted from mine with each breath that whistled between his clenched teeth. I felt each knotted ab, the steeliness of his thighs pressing on my own.

I would like to say I'm dry as a bone. Can't. My pussy was dripping. The tiniest friction sent a spike of arousal through me to the point my clit was as hard as a damn dick. Already my pus was contracting, seeking and searching for a big dick to draw in, moisten with cream, and squeeze like a fist.

I watched his throat work as he finally swallowed the saliva that's been threatening to ooze from the corners of his mouth.

I offered a teasing smile, "Cat got your tongue?"

Bluish-green irises volleyed between my nipple and eye. "Will the cat be able to handle my tongue is the better question."

Another flash of arousal spiked through me. I cleared my throat, not wanting him to know just exactly how affected I was. "Don't over promise and under deliver."

Placing most of his weight on his right forearm, he traced my chin with his left forefinger, "If I ever do, you'll let me have a redo, won't you?"

"Maybe. Depends on how generous I feel like being."

"Well, let me bolster my case by showing you how…detailed oriented I can be."

With a wink, Stefan Salvatore got off of me and the bed entirely. What came next wasn't exactly what our innuendo driven talk foreshadowed. Miffed, I sit forward, righted my clothes, and pouted as he began to do what he really came in my bedroom to do.

A wayward brick was the cause of my injury. We had been walking back from the bar and out of nowhere my poor toes ran into a brick that wasn't in alignment with the others, fucking up my stride and causing me to trip and stumble. That was the least of it. The sting raced up my leg and lodged all the way to the top of my cranium where I stifled a scream or at least I thought I had. Several people had slowed their stride to stare at the uncoordinated black chick. The only person to offer assistance was Stefan. When we both looked down to investigate how badly I may have been hurt, sure enough blood was pouring from between my two middle toes.

After a few minutes passed, I said, "You're taking too long. What are you doing down there?"

"Perfection takes time."

"Or you're suffering from performance anxiety," I grumbled lowly.

I felt the absence of Stefan's hands as he sat back on his haunches, neck reclining so he could glare at me. I shot him a glare in return though I felt it crumbling like bread crumbs as I fought off a smile.

"What was that?" he asked tersely.

"Nothing," I replied coyly.

He shook his head. "Nah, speak your mind, woman since you obviously have something you want to say."

"I didn't say anything about your skills. Now come on. Hurry up."

"Don't rush me."

"It shouldn't be taking this long."

A corner of his eye shrunk, "Do you want this done or want it done right?"

"Of course I want it done right."

Stefan said nothing else as he resumed providing medical care to my poor little toes.

Stefan patching me up reminded me of not long ago when he had the encounter on the metro platform trying to break a woman's fall that had been shoved aside, and he landed on some person's bike, scratching his ribs to hell.

This time we weren't in our cramped bathroom, fogging up the mirror with our body heat. And Stefan wasn't topless with drops of water rolling down his muscled back and chest. Such the pity. His adroit hands had scrubbed my wound, blowing on it to take away the sting of the hydrogen peroxide. Now he was applying the Band-Aid which was a bit tricky because of the placement of the cut.

"Well they're not exactly matching battle wounds," I murmured, admiring his handiwork. "But we've both been accosted on the mean streets of the district."

A corner of Stefan's mouth lifted. "Mine were from trying to be a hero…yours…from not watching where to step. Clumsy much," he quipped.

"Where's the compassion? That brick had it out for me and you know it."

Stefan rumbled a laugh and a moment later said, "Done."

"Thank you."

He nodded and raised my foot higher putting it in kissing range. His intent gaze never left mine as he kissed my toes.

Feeling his lips on me almost made me forget about whom it was I thought I had seen earlier tonight. It had been on the tip of my tongue for the last two hours to bring up my suspicions, but I swallowed those words back down. Damon, for the most part, was finally behaving responsibly, as if he had a purpose and was working toward it. The last thing I wanted to do was derail the strides he was trying to make in leaving his old life in New York behind him. But if Kai was lurking around, sooner or later he'd make his presence known. I felt the least I should do was warn Damon so he wouldn't be caught off guard, but…Damon might actually go seeking out Kai himself. And that wouldn't be a good thing. Just because someone was aware of their bad habits didn't mean they wouldn't engage in them.

Nevertheless, it was a good chance I didn't see Kai but someone who shared the same hair, eye, and skin color as him. Who was the same height and build and had an aura that screamed sociopath.

It wasn't terribly difficult for me to remain aloof and distracted at the bar Stefan, Damon, Suhad, Hamun, and I stumbled into. It was easy to lose myself into the bottom of many shot and cocktail glasses, and whine my hips to the sultry beats that poured from strategically placed speakers. It was nothing to sit squeezed into a U shaped booth with Stefan seated right next to me, his body heat singeing me from head to toe. To smell his body wash and cologne. To feel his thigh pressing into mine, snuggle into his side. So no. I hadn't given the possible Kai sighting a second thought. Until now.

Nevertheless, if anyone noticed there was a different vibe beating between Stefan and me they didn't say anything.

I wasn't exactly afraid of the new turn in our relationship being exposed. Everyone who knew us well enough probably figured we'd end up where we were today. It had only been a matter of time. I was still adjusting, but whether we moved fast or slow…I was going to enjoy the ride.

Running my fingers through his hair, I leaned forward and pecked his lips. Once, twice, a third time. He tasted of lime and tequila.

I stood from the bed. Stefan took a step back to give me a bit of room to move. "I know I said this already but you did real good tonight."

"I felt like an idiot."

"You didn't look like an idiot," my arms curved around him, fingers lacing together behind his neck.

Stefan wound one arm around my waist, and gently gripped my chin with his unoccupied thumb and forefinger. His stomach touched mine with each breath he took, and farther down below I felt him growing thick and heavy in his jeans.

"I never want to do that again," he whispered, eyes heavy-lidded.

"I don't think you're in any danger of having to quit your day job. But if you do and want to become the next David Gandy, you have it, Stefan. I'd be surprised if my panties were the only ones that weren't dry by the end of the night."

Stefan chuckled darkly, "It's only the state of your panties that I care about."

"Good answer."

His head began to lower just as I rose on my toes to clear the distance separating us. I've been wanting this all night. Besides one stolen kiss when Stefan escorted me to the bathroom we hadn't really touched. Not the way my hands burned to do. Even as I danced a few times with Suhad and Stefan hung back watching me the whole time with a look that was blatantly sexual, I resisted the urge to climb on his lap or even better, his face. Delayed gratification an all that. We were alone now. No witnesses. No loud music. No drunken conversations. No impediments whatsoever.

My heartbeat changed tempo, speeding, blood pounding through veins that felt too small to contain the onslaught. Stefan, too, breathed louder. I could hear it as he brushed the tip of our noses together. I tilted my head just right, parted my lips just so, and sighed the moment a moist, hot mouth covered my lips. The pressure, the suction, the slow glide of his tongue into my mouth was magnifique. My boy was skilled. If his tongue was synonymous with what his dick could do, a bitch was about to be in trouble.

The absolute best kind.

Stefan moaned first. I followed. His hand traveled south and he grabbed a handful of ass. He was harder now that I really expected the crown of his cock to rip straight through his pants.

Moans became pants; the heat went up so high my skin was soon dewy with sweat. The seat of my panties was a virtual sauna, an oasis. Drink from me, Stefan.

As if he heard it, Stefan lifted me up right underneath the crease of my ass. Still kissing. Still tasting the other's tongue. Half a step forward and we went down on the bed.

Things were smooth and calm and then a switch was flipped. Stefan and I fought for who would take off his shirt first and the fastest. You could call it a tie but the point of the matter, the shirt was off and flung to the far corner of my room. Kisses were dropped around my jaw, down my throat, Stefan nicked my collarbone.

"I still can't believe we're doing this," he trapped the strap of my dress between his teeth, peered up at me.

"You know, neither can I."

"You want to stop?"

I quirked my head as if I didn't understand the question. Stopping something I've wanted for a year and some change? He was crazy.

Grabbing him by the shoulders I rolled us over, planting Stefan on his back, straddling his lean hips. "We can stop when we're tired. Are you tired, Stefan?"

"No. No I'm not."

"Good."

And I proceeded to show him how not tired I was.


Rays of sunlight roused me from sleep. In protest I curled tighter into a ball, pulling the covers over my head but it was no use. I was awake.

A gruff, "Good morning," further enticed me out from beneath that warm haven of blankets and sheets. Stefan gazed down at me, smiling wryly. Hair mussed, crust in the corner of his right eye he was still too handsome after a night of hard sleeping.

I partially covered my mouth so he wouldn't be assaulted with my morning breath. "Morning."

"Slept okay?"

"Yeah. What about you?"

"Someone kept punching me with her pointy elbows. But, I'm used to being assaulted."

With a roll of my eyes I propped myself up along the headboard.

As much as I wanted to loiter in bed, couldn't. My day was booked with a single activity: getting my hair braided. It was the official start of Memorial Day weekend. The roommate-cum-Netflix and Chill partner-cum friend with partial benefits and I were scheduled to hit the road for Ocean City, Maryland very early tomorrow morning to beat traffic. We wouldn't be making our way home until Tuesday.

Simultaneously our stomachs growled. Ordinarily that would have embarrassed me, but since it was Stefan and we proved to be more than comfortable with one another, we simply laughed.

Stefan rolled out of bed in his briefs to go wrangle us up some breakfast. I ogled his cute little ass cheeks as he ambled to the kitchen. When he was out of sight, I switched on the tube and channel surfed hoping to come across something decent to watch. I had about three hours to kill before my hair appointment. Normally it would take that long for me to get ready whenever I had to leave the apartment, but since I was only going to the salon, putting a lot of effort into my appearance was unnecessary.

Just a minute or two after Stefan darted out of my room, I heard a ping. Leaning over, I spotted my roommate's cell charging on the end table. A week or more ago I wouldn't have hesitated being nosy to see who it was, but now that our relationship added a layer of physicality, it would feel like an invasion of Stefan's privacy, an invasion of trust. I didn't want to be the girl who broke into her boyfriend's phone, trolled his social media accounts to see whose DMs he was sliding into. Then again, Stefan and I hadn't labeled what we were. Biting into my lower lip, I decided to ignore it. But if the person texted or called again, I'd do the friendly thing and let Stefan know.

Just a second later his phone pinged once more. This time I did look and frowned. It was Amber. I quickly read the text before the screen went black. She wanted him to call her so they could talk.

Of course Stefan would catch me with his phone. "What are you doing?"

"Amber texted you. She wants to talk." There wasn't any need for me to act like I wasn't snooping.

Stefan wore an indiscernible expression as he fully entered my bedroom plucking his device from my sticky fingers. Once he finished replying to her, I'm assuming, he placed his cell right where he left it.

"Is cereal okay for breakfast?" he asked.

"That's fine."

He left before I could ask if he told her to never contact him again. I knew him. Knew it took a while for him to quit people unless you did something truly unforgiveable. If you toed the line but didn't cross it, Stefan continued to lend you his ear and in dire situations his help, but his assistance was given grudgingly.

Yet I wondered how much of a problem Amber might become if she wasn't irrevocably nipped in the bud.

Resuming the hunt for mindless entertainment, naturally my phone would start ringing.

"Ugh," I cried not wanting to move from bed, yet recognizing the ringtone, if I ignored the call that would make the hole in which I already lived with the caller that much deeper.

Hauling out of bed, I grabbed my cell, stared at the screen still a bit indecisive but decided to get it over with. Bite the bullet.

"Good morning, dad."

"Ah, it's nice to know you remember you have one of those."

Being an educator wasn't the one thing my dear old father was good at. He was proficient in the art of guilt tripping.

Was I close with my parents? That depended on perspective. I respected them because without them I wouldn't be here. Rudy and Abbie Bennett were the kinds of people who believed your reputation would decide your future. I had little knowledge if they've ever gotten drunk, ran the streets as kids, disobeyed their parents, ever walked on the wrong side of the law, but they could be bores, anal, cold, and clinical about everything. Judgmental to high heaven, which yes, I admit, I inherited from them.

Once leaving home for college, I very rarely went home. It was…amusing how parents couldn't contain their giddiness of having an empty nest, yet the moment that wish was granted, they dedicated the rest of their lives to begging their children to come home.

"How've you been, dad?" I wedged my phone between shoulder and cheek and retook my spot in bed.

"Handling business as usual…missing my daughter wondering why she doesn't call or visit more often."

"I'm busy with work."

"You write fluff pieces for an online magazine that any person with a computer can do."

And there it was. His disdain for my profession, ignoring the fact that I did occasionally write for reputable and critically acclaimed news organizations. But that never really factored in until one of my weightier pieces went to print. Then my father would brag to anyone who'd listen about his baby girl writing for a prestigious paper or magazine.

"I have a busy day today, father," I countered hotly. He knew whenever I brought out the formal honorific that I was pissed. "Let's not launch into an argument that will result in me not calling or visiting for another month."

I was met with stark stubborn silence, but after a beat or two my dad sighed. "I don't want to argue with you either, and that's not why I called. I called to invite you to the barbeque we're having tomorrow. I'd really…I want you to come. Please."

Stefan returned with two bowls of cereal. He handed me one and carefully sat on the bed.

"Wish I could but I'm headed out of town. Sorry."

"Bonnie…"

"Don't get mad at me for not being able to make it when you're inviting me at the last minute."

"Well, we just decided to have one. You're our first invitee, but since you're going out of town, guess there's nothing to do about it."

Sure wasn't. I wouldn't be cancelling my plans to head to my folks place in Alexandria and fake like I was happy to be under their roof, eating their food while making small talk with their retinue of friends who blamed millennials for everything. No thanks.

However, my conscience got the better of me. I knew my father was trying, unfortunately his effort fell short. My mother, my relationship with her was marginally better. She at least listened to me when I brought a problem to her, but the advice she offered always came off as a sales pitch. Being a lobbyist, guess she couldn't help herself.

"Maybe," I paused to nibble my lip, "maybe we can have dinner one night next month."

"Okay," unsurprisingly my dad brightened. "We can do that. I do miss you, baby girl."

"Miss you, too. I'll give you a call in a couple of days to compare schedules, see what night will work best."

"All right. You still living with that boy?"

I suppressed a snicker and glanced at said boy who was stuffing his mouth with baked golden squares sprinkled with cinnamon. "Yeah, I'm still living with Stefan."

Rudy tutted in disapproval. Another thorn in our relationship, my living situation. "If you need some help, financially to get your own place, you know I'm here, Bonnie."

"Its fine, daddy. Stefan is…he hasn't crossed any boundaries."

Person in question leaned closer to speak lowly in my ear, "Not yet, but soon."

My womb clenched at the promise. Trading a few more pleasantries with daddy dearest, and sending my love to my mom, we ended the call.

"Everything all right?" Stefan questioned.

I nodded and dug into my food. "Daddy wants me to come home for a cookout."

"Hmm. It's been a while since you've seen your parents, hasn't it?"

"Give or take a month or so. The last time I went home for a visit they tried to ambush me with an impromptu date. A son of one of their friends was home for the weekend." I purposely looked grave, "It didn't end well."

Stefan snickered. "What was wrong with him?"

I thought back to that day. "Nothing on the surface, but you know how it is when you get a feeling about someone. Regardless it wouldn't have worked out anyways. Dude lives in Texas."

"What are you watching?" Stefan switched topics.

"Boomerang."

"I've never seen it."

That didn't surprise me in the least. We ate and watched the movie, laughing accordingly.

"Have you ever encountered a Jacqueline?" I murmured without looking away from the movie.

Jacqueline was the sort of woman who didn't get emotional or rather didn't let her emotions control her after fucking a man. Behavior that would earn a man a handshake and praise, Jacqueline and women like her would be labeled a bitch. Jackie was in it for a good time, not a long time.

"Nah, can't say that I have. What about you? Dealt with any Marcus'?"

"I think you know the answer to that question quite well."

"Not exactly," Stefan disagreed. "We know a lot about each other. More than most friends probably know about people they consider friends. But there's the dating life you had before we even met that you haven't…expounded on."

We stared at each other. I broke eye contact first. Stayed quiet for a minute or two. "For a time I was Jacqueline."

"Really? Do tell."

"Some other time. I need to get ready for my hair appointment."

Stefan placed his empty bowl on the end table, "Guess I'll see you tonight, then."

He already knew the deal. That I would be gone all day.

"Yep. Tonight."


||Stefan||

A bottle of Veuve Clicquot landed bottoms up on grainy sand next to my feet. I inhaled deeply the sea-salty air and shivered a little against the frigid winds. It's a lot cooler than I expected but it's early yet. Discomfort aside, I smiled as I stared out at the choppy water.

Foam lapped damn near to my ankles enticing me to venture closer to the edge of the shore. The hard wet sand disappeared beneath the soles of my feet each time the water barreled forward. Water that was surprisingly warm given the temperature.

Three hours of traveling and we're finally here.

I had traveled to my share of beaches in my speck of a life. Dipped my hairy toes into the Mediterranean Sea, walked along the black sand beaches of the Canary Islands, dodged the multitude of washed up jellyfish of Myrtle Beach, etc., etc.

Would I consider myself a learned traveler? slightly. The spots I hit up on family getaways typically boasted ruins dating back to BC times, and in college it was always Cabo. The tradition to head to Ocean City started the year after me and my friends graduated college, and it's been going strong ever since.

Faces rotated, mostly those of the female persuasion. I had taken Valerie once in which she pretended she wasn't having the worst time of her life. The ex never hid what she thought about my friends. They were loud, they were crass; they were belligerent drunks. You know, the usual. They were beneath her as far as she was concerned, and if it wasn't just the two of us getting lost in the world, she'd inexplicably find something else to do.

That was fine with me. I enjoyed traveling with people but had no qualms doing it alone if I absolutely had to.

This year's different.

Riding with the windows down, seat pushed back, her feet propped up on the dashboard was the literal Bonnie to my Clyde. I lost count of the times I caught myself fixated on her little feet, those polished toes. My foot fetishism could rival Quentin Tarantino's.

Occasionally Bonnie pointed out something innocuous, capturing what she could on her phone before swinging that device in my direction.

"Are you documenting this?" I kept my eyes forward.

"Yes, Stefan. I've decide to do a whole Instagram stories series on this trip. Now smile, dammit. Show me those fangs."

At that brusque request I stared at her drolly.

Bonnie poked out her bottom lip. "Come on. Humor me. This weekend we're going to act like people in catalogs. We're going to look like people trying to sell trips to vineyards and horseback riding."

I laughed because seriously she was a trip. And it didn't escape me that Bonnie was one of the few people I knew who could get an honest laugh out of me.

"Ah, better," she said in approval. "You have ten seconds to tell people how excited you are about heading to Ocean City. Make them envy you, Stefan. Make. Them. Envy. You." Then she laughed like a Disney cartoon villain.

The dramatics. But I had a ready answer.

"Well in order to do that I would need you to turn the camera on yourself. Let people see who I'm hanging with. They'll be envious enough."

Bonnie lowered her phone, I could see that out my peripheral. When I chanced looking at her, needless to say she was pleased, hell maybe even touched.

"I hope your pull out game is as smooth as you are."

My brow furrowed, "What?"

"Nothing."

We spent the rest of the ride with Bonnie trying to get me to act like we were filming an episode of some teen drama between playing our own version of Finish that Tune in which I failed horribly to remember lyrics once the music was shut off. I thought we might lose this, the quirkiness of our friendship and that everything would be weighted and heavy as we figured out which step to take next. I didn't feel any kind of pressure to assume any roles, don any mask to convince her I was trustworthy enough to fuck. And honestly, it wasn't about that. You wouldn't believe me if I said sex was the last thing on my mind when it comes to Bonnie. Oh, it's there. It's never gone away, the need hasn't shrunk. It's only grown bigger but knowing she's as sexually attracted to me as I am to her, it's enough.

For now.

But it was more to it. Shit, I was fucking giddy because I had a friend I was truly myself with, and that more than anything was important. If I couldn't be myself around someone then what the hell was I doing around them?

At exactly 6:55 a.m. we arrived at my boy Eddie's timeshare. We hadn't gone inside since Bonnie was insistent we hit the beach first, have a bit of alone time before everyone else who had been invited showed up. She didn't have to twist my arm to get me to agree.

Looking east, I spotted her at it again. Recording, this time the Atlantic in front of us, panning to take in the numerous homes and businesses that lined the beach, adding her own colorful commentary, no doubt. Looking at her definitely had an effect on the area between my waist and knees. Watching her in her cutoff shorts and painted on tee, I forget about Amber blowing up my phone imploring me for just five minutes of my time. I forget about deadlines and my mother well on her way to marrying the biggest fucking twat I know. I forget about my temporary stint as a male model (the thousand bucks in my pocket notwithstanding); I just remember that moment on a couch in a northeast apartment that's changed everything.

Bonnie sashayed to my side. I could watch that woman walk for hours. The moment she was in hearing distance, I said to her:

"When we get back, I'm taking you out on a proper date."

Bonnie grinned, showing me all her teeth. "You are?"

"Yes. I want you to know what it feels like to be pursued by someone you want and who wants you. I'm not interested in playing any games, Bon. If that's what this is—"

"—it's not," she quickly refuted.

"Then it's settled. I'm taking you out. We're gonna have a good time, and it won't be weird."

"Why would it be weird? We've kissed. I've seen you jack off."—I can't help but bashfully look away—"You've fingered me, seen my nipple."

Hmm, nipple. Concentrate, Stefan.

"Yes, we've done those things," I concurred. "However, they occurred in the privacy of our home. We'll be taking things public. It could get weird."

"It won't because at the end of the day, we're still us. We're still Bonnie and Stefan. It won't be weird unless we make it weird."

"So we agree right now," I looked her dead in the eye, "it won't be weird."

"It won't be," she said with all the confidence in the world.

Grabbing Bonnie by the hem of her shirt, I pulled her closer. Her arms automatically wrapped around me, and normally she could tuck the crown of her head under my chin, but with her hair braided and placed into some kind of knot, well, she settled with resting her cheek on my shoulder. We observed the sun rising higher just like that. I'm on the cusp of asking her to be my girlfriend, but I could wait. Wait until our first date at least.

Nerves made me feel like I just came down with a mild case of ingestion. Wow. One day, the girl in my arms would be just that. My. Girl.

A/N: Thank you guys for reading, and definitely thank you for reviewing last chapter. How did we likely? I'm sorry Stefan's part was so short. I hope to make it up in the next update. Yea! It's just I want to get his voice right so he doesn't sound like Bonnie. Cool? Good.

On another note, I would caution, for those who ship BK that mentions of Kai in this story won't result in me writing a future BK story or any shippy BK moments in this fic. That ship is not my cup of tea. So I hope anyone reading this story is reading for Stefonnie, they are priority. All right loves, thanks again for reading. Until next time.