With Jason, however, he’d been different, a mistake really.  A mistake only in the sense that he’d been nothing she’d expected.  He caught her completely off guard.  In fact, she hadn’t wanted to go out that night – two years ago now.  Her friend Tiffany had forced her to come, pleading that she “didn’t want to be the only girl.”  “You’ll like them,” Tiffany promised, “Ivy Leaguers, just your type, and soccer players, too.”   At the time, Lauren figured Tiffany was trying to fix her up with someone other than her current – what was his name?   She didn’t remember now, only that Tiffany had called him Numps, an old British term that meant “fool.”  She smiled.  Spreading Jason’s shirt apart, she leaned forward, feeling the warmth of his chest on her cheek.  Glad for the little bit of hair there, she didn’t like men that were bears, or those completely hairless.  The first couldn’t be helped, the second she didn’t understand; luckily Jason was neither.  Lauren slid down beside him, now kissing his neck.

Read this story in its entirety