(Then) Kinsley

I was already irritated that I was spending my Saturday afternoon in a study room at the library, working on this stupid group project.  Claire and Maya hadn't stopped giggling, Michael hadn't stopped encouraging them, and the three of them were wearing on my last nerve. 

"Okay," I said, trying to redirect them.  This was like herding cats, and all I wanted to do was go back to my apartment and watch trashy TV in my sweats.  The three of them looked at me in surprise, like they had forgotten I was there until I spoke.  I pitched my idea for how to present our work to the class.  Claire and Maya shrugged and said it sounded fine.

"I have an idea too," Michael piped up.  I glared at him.  He ignored me and continued on with his idea and when he was finished, Maya spoke.

"I just love that idea!" she gushed, and Claire agreed.  I was seething.  In the long run, it didn't fucking matter, but why did this have to be a competition again?  In my head, I was kicking Michael in the balls so hard that he flew all the way back to wherever the fuck it was he had been attending school before he came here to ruin my life. 

"Fine," I said through gritted teeth.  "I don't care."  We divided up some responsibilities for the next week and I threw my stuff in my backpack and stalked out.

I was speed walking across campus when a jogging Michael caught up to me.  "Where's the fire?" he asked, as he slowed to a fast walk to match my pace.

"Fuck off," I snapped.

"It's just a group project, Kins," he said, as he pulled open the door to our building.

I stormed past him and said, "I told you not to call me that." He lived on the first floor and Kate and I lived on the third, so I was surprised and irritated when he began to follow me up the stairs.  "Seriously, Michael, leave me alone."

"I won't," he replied.  I stopped short in the middle of the stairs, causing him to run into me.  I spun around and glared at him.  "This is ridiculous," he continued.  "We're going to be working together all semester, so you need to do whatever you need to do so you can stop being such a raging bitch to me."  I gaped at him for a second before whirling back around and stomping up the rest of the stairs two at a time.

He was still behind me when I got to my apartment.  I shoved my key towards the lock but I was so angry that I was shaking and I missed.  I dropped my entire key chain on the ground.  I swore and kicked the wall as Michael bent to pick it up and unlocked my door for me.  He handed the keys back to me, and then we were kissing.  I don't know if he kissed me or if I kissed him, but it didn't matter.

I was thankful that Kate had gone home to Boulder for the weekend as we stumbled inside and shut the door.  We didn't even make it past the couch, tumbling onto it while we pulled off our backpacks and pants.  There was no foreplay necessary and I groaned as he pushed roughly into me.  "Ohh, fuck," I breathed as he ground his hips against mine.  I dug my fingers into his arms and turned my head to the side as his lips found my neck.

We were a sweaty mass of tangled limbs when we were done.  I was breathing hard, still pissed, and completely blown away and confused by the fabulous sex we'd just had.  "Still hate me?" he asked softly near my ear after he had caught his breath.

"I'll always hate you," I growled back.

"Even when I do this?" he asked.  I gasped as his hand slid between us and stroked between my legs.  I couldn't help but close my eyes and moan softly as his fingers moved against me.

"Even when you do that," I managed.  He started to withdraw his hand but I gripped his wrist.  "Don't stop," I pleaded.

"Tell me you don't hate me, and I'll finish what I started," he baited me, as he let his fingers brush my inner thigh.

"Fine," I said through gritted teeth.  "I don't hate you."  I was pissed at this admission (because it was true, at least at this moment), but I needed his fingers against me again.  I sighed in relief when they returned.  I came amazingly quickly--certainly faster than I ever had before.

I let my head drop to the side while I caught my breath, then I squirmed out from under Michael and reached for my pants.  "Can I take you out to dinner?" he asked, surprising me.

I stood and yanked my pants up.  "No," I replied, turning to walk down the hall to the bathroom.  "Go home, Michael."  I didn't look back as I shut the bathroom door behind me.   About a half minute later, I heard the door to my apartment open and shut.

I leaned against the door to the bathroom and stared at myself in the mirror.  What the fuck had I just done?  More importantly, why had it been so good?  And how weird were things going to be between us now?


I needn't have worried about things being weird, because on Monday everything was the same.  Michael continued to taunt me but pretend to be innocent.  I continued to be bitchy to him.  But I did notice that it didn't bother me as much.  I was able to let it all roll off my back.  Apparently I just needed to screw him once to make him tolerable.  Well, it's certainly not the worst that could have happened.

A couple weeks later, I went out with this guy named Andy who had gone to my high school and was in one of my classes.  To be honest, I wasn't completely sure if I was into Andy or just wanted a distraction from thinking about having sex with Michael.  I had been tempted on more than one occasion to knock on his door for another round of mind-blowing sex, but I had managed to restrain myself so far.  So when Andy asked me out, it was a welcome distraction.

He took me out to dinner and it wasn't anything special, but he paid and he was nice and funny and easy to talk to.  At the end of the night he kissed me but didn't try anything else.  We made plans to go out again.   After our second date, he kissed me a little more insistently, and asked to come in.  I really wasn't feeling any chemistry, so I said no.

"Too bad, I heard you're a good lay," he said dismissively.  I stared at him, shocked.

"Heard from whom?" I asked icily.

He smirked, but didn't answer.  He didn't have to, though.  The only person I had slept with this year happens to know Andy quite well.  Once Andy was gone, I stormed down to Michael's apartment.

I slammed my fist against the door 5 times and waited impatiently for him to open it.  I realized that it was a Friday night and it was highly likely he wasn't even here, and I was about to walk away when the door opened.  I was so furious that I wasn't even distracted by his shirtless chest.  "What the fuck is wrong with you?" I screeched.

"Ssshhhh," he hissed, grabbing my arm and pulling me inside his apartment.  "You don't have to make a scene."

"No, I think I do," I spat.  "What the fuck were you thinking telling Andy about us having sex?  Where is your brain?  You are such a goddamn idiot and I can't believe I let you anywhere near me, much less let you have sex with me!  I guess I'm an idiot too, because I thought that maybe, just maybe, you could keep your mouth shut this one fucking time!"

He stood there, patiently waiting for me to stop ranting.  When I did, he said simply, "Sorry."

"Seriously?!" I shrieked.  "That's it?  Sorry?  You have nothing else to say?"

He paused, looking thoughtful, then said, "You're really fucking hot when you're pissed off."  I closed the distance between us in two steps and raised my hand to slap him.  He caught my wrist with my hand just inches away from his face, and quickly grabbed my other wrist too.  He took a half step closer to me and I glared at him for about two and a half seconds before kissing him.  He backed me up to the wall, still gripping my wrists.

I leaned back against the wall, pulling away from our kiss for just long enough to say, "I fucking hate you."

"I know," he said, his voice low, his lips against my ear.  He dropped my wrists and pushed his hands into my hair, tilting my head slightly to give him better access to my neck.  We had sex right there against the wall, and it was even better than the first time.

After, I immediately got dressed and picked up my keys from where I had dropped them on the floor.  "Wanna spend the night?" Michael asked.  "You can take out a little more of your anger on me, if you want."

I pulled his door open.  I didn't even look back at him as I said, "Fuck you!" and slammed the door behind me.