Free Letting Go (Vice, Virtue & Video) by Bianca Giovanni

Chapter 1 –
Lola
     
    My professor is at the front of the classroom droning on
about covalent bonds while he clicks through his PowerPoint slideshow. I’m
jotting down notes from each slide and underlining specific terms, since he’s
being pretty obvious about what will be on the final. My mind is elsewhere,
though. I feel a bit like Britney Spears in the beginning of the “Baby One More
Time” video—she’s drumming on her notebook with a pencil and eagerly
awaiting the bell so she can shimmy down the hallway, creating pervy schoolgirl
fantasies for an entire generation of males. I’ve got that same bored
when-will-class-be-over-so-I-can-get-out-of-here look on my face, though my
attire is far less scandalous than Britney’s wardrobe.
    My phone buzzes in my messenger bag, and I reach down to get
it. This class is massive, one of those general requirements that everyone has
to sit through, so no one will notice. I pull out my brand new
iPhone—which I reluctantly accepted as a gift from James—and check
the alert. It’s a text message saying:
    Waiting for you at the hotel - rm 619 xoxo
    My heart flutters with excitement. Now I really want this
class to wrap up. A beautiful, strapping stud awaits me, and I’m more than
ready to trade molecules for muscles.
    The professor finally lets us go, and I’m the first one out
of the classroom. It’s a short walk to the Sheraton, and I practically run the
whole way.
    I’m buzzing with anticipation as I ride the elevator up to
the sixth floor and run down the hallway to room 619.
    I knock once, and seconds later, there he is. His prompt
answer makes me wonder if he was waiting by the door the whole time.
    “Aw, baby! I missed you so much!” James says, pulling me in
and scooping me up in a giant hug. I can tell that he missed me a lot from the
way he envelops me.
    “I missed you too,” I say as he kisses my cheeks, my
shoulder, and even my neck a couple times.
    He doesn’t put me down, and I giggle as he physically
carries me into his room, the door clicking shut behind me. He’s still
squeezing me, so I shift and wrap my legs around him. He cradles my head to his
chest, but I nuzzle under his neck, feeling very happy and relaxed. God, I love
when he holds me like this—really holds me, not just hugs me.
    It’s been over a year since I’ve seen him, and I want to
absorb everything about him all at once. His arms are strong and his torso is
firm as he presses me against him. His hair is longer, but just as flowing and
beautiful. He smells great—fresh and clean, but with an underlying
testosterone that makes me want to press my nose to his neck and take it all
in. If scientists ever want to study pheromones, he’d be a prime research
candidate. I might be his best friend, but even I find his masculine smell very
appealing.
    He finally sets me down and takes my bag, setting it on the
desk as I check out the room. He can afford nice accommodations, and the king
sized bed is practically calling my name. After half a semester in a dorm bed,
something spacious with big, fluffy pillows seems like heaven. I’m hoping I can
spend the night here, but I don’t want to be presumptuous. Last time we shared
a bed, shit went down and blurred the lines between platonic and passionate.
I’m not sure if he wants to tempt fate again.
    “You look so beautiful, Lola,” he says, standing back to
check me out.
    He has this way of looking at me that makes me feel
glamorous and sexy, even though I’m just in jeans and a t-shirt with a gray
sweater thrown over my shoulders. I think I get where he’s coming from, though,
because he’s dressed just as casually, but I still find him so gorgeous.
    “You’re pretty easy on the eyes too, my man,” I tease,
moving back over to him and wrapping my arms around his waist.
    I can’t stop touching him. It’s like a compulsion, like I
have to do it. I need physical contact with him, not necessarily in a flirty or
sexual way, just to