Chapter 66 You Don’t Want Another Strike
Maggie blinked, surprised, then let out a soft laugh. “Am I?”
“Yes. Non-stop. You look like you just won the lottery.”
Maggie closed her book slowly and leaned back in the chair, fingers tracing the rim of her coffee cup. “Maybe I did.”
Lily propped her elbows on the table, chin resting in her hands. “Spill.”
Maggie met her gaze— steady, unguarded. “Andrew came over last night. After the exam.”
Lily’s eyes widened gradually. “Wait. Andrew? The talking-stage Andrew?”
Maggie nodded, her smile spreading. “Yeah.”
Lily stared for three full seconds, mouth falling open. “What happened?”
“A lot.”
Lily exhaled— a half-laugh, half-shock. “Okay. Okay. Details. Now.”
Maggie’s cheeks flushed a soft pink, but she didn’t look away. “I invited him to come over, so he showed up yesterday around seven. We talked for a bit, watched a wildlife documentary. And it happened.”
Lily swallowed. “You slept together?”
“Yes.”
“It’s a lie.”
“It’s not.”
Lily leaned in. “You for real?”
“Yes. After a while of watching the documentary, it got quiet— and cold too. So we ended up sharing a blanket to stay warm.” Maggie paused, swallowed once, her smile turning shy. “And then we kissed. And it didn’t stop.”
Lily’s brows shot up. “Shut up.”
“I know…” Maggie’s voice dropped— almost a whisper. “Didn’t even remember when my clothes were off. All I remember was that...” She trailed off, cheeks burning now. “I felt real good.”
Lily’s mouth curved into a slow, delighted grin. “How good, exactly?”
Maggie laughed— quiet, embarrassed. “Very good. He… knows what he was doing. I’m still sore in the best way possible.”
Lily let out a low whistle, then grinned wider. “Damn, girl.”
Maggie ducked her head, smiling so hard her cheeks hurt. “Yeah.”
Lily studied her— really looked. “I can see you're happy. Like really happy."
“I am.” Maggie’s voice softened. “I know it’s fast. We only just started talking. But there’s something about him. My gut says he’s real. Genuine. If he asked me today to spend the rest of my life with him…” She met Lily’s eyes, serious now. “I’d say yes. Even though he hasn’t even asked me to be his girl yet. I wouldn’t hesitate.”
Lily didn’t laugh or tease. She just watched Maggie for a long moment, searching her face. Then her expression melted into something fond and quietly protective.
“Okay,” she said softly. “I see it.”
Maggie’s shoulders relaxed, relief washing over her. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Lily reached across the table and squeezed Maggie’s hand once. “I’m happy for you. You being this happy makes me happy. I’ll support whatever decisions you make— good or bad.”
Maggie squeezed back. “Thank you.”
Lily’s smile turned sly. “So… he's really big, huh?”
Maggie’s face went deep red. “Very. At least eight inches. Thick, too. I swear I could feel it in my soul.”
Lily’s mouth dropped open in stunned silence for a second. “Don’t make me sin. My imagination is already suffering.”
Maggie laughed, head tipping back. “Too graphic?”
Lily groaned playfully. “Yes. Maybe. Definitely maybe.”
“Alright. Maybe some other time.”
They opened their books again, heads bent, pens scratching across paper— but every few minutes one of them glanced up, caught the other smiling, and they both dissolved into quiet, shared laughter.
Outside, campus life continued— students rushing to late classes, leaves skittering across the quad.
Inside, two friends studied, coffee slowly cooling, pages turning, friendship solid as ever.
And deep in Maggie’s chest, the hope that had taken root the night before grew stronger— quiet, certain, blooming.
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'TWO YEARS LATER— AFTER COLLEGE'
The bedroom in their Bellingham apartment glowed soft grey at 6:00 a.m.— early light filtering through half-closed blinds, painting thin stripes across the king bed. The air smelled faintly of Maggie’s lavender body lotion and the clean cotton of fresh sheets. The digital alarm on Maggie’s nightstand— simple black cube, red numbers— blared a gentle chime.
Maggie stirred first— dark hair spilling across the pillow, one arm flung over Andrew’s chest. She reached out without opening her eyes, slapped the off button. Silence returned, broken only by Andrew’s slow, even breathing beside her.
She rolled onto her side, facing him. His face was relaxed in sleep— dark-brown lashes fanned against cheeks, mouth slightly open, one curl falling across his forehead. Maggie’s lips curved— soft, private. She lifted a hand, brushed the curl back gently, then tapped his shoulder.
“Andrew.”
He grunted— low, reluctant— eyes still closed.
She leaned closer, voice a sleepy murmur. “Morning, baby.”
Andrew’s lashes fluttered. One brown eye cracked open— then both. His mouth curved into a slow, lazy smile. “Morning, beautiful.”
Maggie’s smile widened. She leaned over, pressed a soft kiss to his lips— lingering just long enough for him to hum against her mouth. When she pulled back, she stayed close— nose brushing his.
“It’s six,” she whispered. “I’m getting ready for work.”
Andrew groaned— deep, dramatic— rolled onto his back, arms stretching overhead until his shoulders popped. “Already?”
“Already.” She kissed his jaw once— quick— then slid out of bed. Bare feet met cool hardwood. “You should get up too. You don’t want another strike. That last one almost tanked your review.”