And that’s so messed up.
He can give me everything I want out of life. I can have it all with him. I repeat it in my head until I can look at him again.
“You tired?” he asks. His fingers are on my face again. Soft and smooth.
“A little,” I admit.
“Almost there. Am I dropping you at your dorm, or do you want to come back to my place for a while?”
I understand what he’s asking me. We haven’t had sex yet. We had broken up before that had ever happened and I’ve tried to keep the pace slow this time around as well. He’s been asking for several weeks now, getting tired of waiting on me. I have a rule about sex. I won’t give it away to just anybody. I made that mistake before. But Loden isn’t just anybody. If I’m in it, then I’m in it.
There is only so long I can hold him off with blowjobs and lame excuses.
“Your place,” I decide.
He grins at me, happy with my answer. And it feels good. Good to make him happy. Good to know he wants me. Not just right now, but long term.
~*~
Loden’s new apartment is nice. He chose to live alone when he got back from summer break because he likes his privacy, which I can understand and relate to. It’s been so long since I’ve had my own space. I roomed with my little sister, then Hope, then I came to college and have had roommates ever since—dealing with someone else always there, or their mess even when they’re not.
I like neat. I like order. I like privacy.
His dad paid for this apartment. His mom furnished it. I’m not sure he’s earned anything he owns. I don’t hold it against him, but I can’t stop myself from thinking it either.
“Do you want to go to the bedroom?” His eyes meet mine and I feel like he’s testing me or challenging me, maybe. That’s what we’re here for though, right?
“Lead the way.”
He pulls me behind him. I take a deep breath as he pushes the door open, revealing a large bed taking up most of the room.
Loden steps up behind me as I move inside. His hands slide around my waist, gripping my hips as he draws me back against him. Quickly skimming my hair off my neck, he places his lips there, kissing his way down to my shoulder. He pulls the collar of my shirt, giving himself better access.
Sex is healthy. It’s done every day, by millions—billions of people. It’s natural. This is no big deal. The tightness in my chest is nothing to worry about. That urge to pull away can be attributed to my need to be in control.
This is fine. I’m fine. I want this. I want to give this to him.
I turn in his arms and find his mouth. Closing my eyes, I kiss him. This will change everything. Make us more solid. Our future more secure.
I pull away long enough to remove my shirt, tugging it over my head. He watches me intently, desire evident in his eyes. It makes it easier to stand here. To not cover myself, hiding my inadequacies from his view.
He strips off his own shirt, throwing it onto the chair in the corner. And then he steps closer to me, chest to chest, and I know this is it.
“Are you on the pill?” he asks as his fingers trail along my spine, working their way toward my bra clasp.
“Oh, uh, yeah. Since I was sixteen.”
He unhooks my bra and I stiffen. I’m not sure if it’s his questions, or my insecurities, or just the fact that we’re really about to do this.
“I’m clean. I get tested every year, but we’ll use a condom until you can set up an appointment.”
He’s clean, but I must not be?
“Okay,” I whisper. He plucks the lacy material away from my body. I shiver, holding my breath. He continues onto my jeans, unbuttoning them. I help him slide them off before he slips out of his own pants. Then we’re lying back on his bed and he’s opening a condom.
I tell myself it’s because he can’t wait. The anticipation is too great. He wants me so badly he can’t wait another second.
But even my biggest sexual mistake took more time than this. Even in high school and even though all he wanted was an easy lay, he still took time for foreplay.
I shove the thoughts away as Loden positions himself over me. The urge is back, that need to pull back and run. But I don’t. I press my lips together and close my eyes. It hurts when he pushes into me. My body is too tense. I’m not turned on at all. There is no natural lubrication whatsoever.
He moans. I feel my eyes tear behind closed lids. I keep them sealed tight. It’s not dark enough to hide it and I can’t explain it. This just feels so wrong.
And I realize it’s because, no matter what I’ve been telling myself, I don’t love Loden. Not even a little bit.
Maybe I can learn to love him.
I repeat this to myself as I grip his shoulders and try to get into the moment. I will my muscles to unclench. I attempt a deep breath, but his weight is pressing down on me, making me feel constricted, smothered.
I bite the inside of my cheek and pray he finishes soon. I just want this over. Next time—next time will be better.
Eyes pinching tighter, I try to think of something—anything—to help pass the time. And, God, I know this is bad. I know it, but I feel trapped. Not just by his body on mine, but in my mind. In my decision. In this relationship.
I think of Chase and I don’t know why. I don’t know why I turn to him to help me through this moment, but I do. I picture his face. His smile. His laugh. And that way the light catches his eyes, making them glow. And I think of how much I love it when that happens.
Loden moans again, long and loud. His body shudders and he goes limp on top of me. I run my hand over his sweaty back and wonder if he noticed my response to him—or lack of one. How could he not notice?
I wipe my eyes before he can see the tears that managed to escape. And then I wait for him to get off me. I just want him off. I just want to go home.
“That was incredible,” he rasps.
I watch him pull back and I wince as something catches along the way. It feels like it rips along my insides, but I hold my breath and ride it out. He discards the condom and heaves himself to lie down beside me. Thankfully he doesn’t touch me again. I don’t think I could handle it. Not yet.
I know I was a willing participant, but it almost doesn’t feel that way.
I sit up and start getting dressed as quickly as I can without being obvious.
“You taking off?”
I clear my throat and nod. “Yeah. I need to study and unpack.”
“Okay,” he says. He sits up and presses his lips against my back. I freeze.
“Make an appointment,” he says.
I shift away, picking up my shirt. “Okay.”
“I want to feel you without anything between us,” he continues.
I nod.
“Next time you don’t have to be so shy.”
Shy. I nod again. “Sorry. I was just a little nervous.”
“You don’t have to be nervous with me,” he replies as he pushes off the bed. He pulls his pants on and wraps his arms around me.
“I know.” I press a kiss into his cheek and pull away.
“I’ll call you later.”
“Okay,” I say as I head to the door, trying hard not to run.
24
Say You Like Me
Chase
I get back to school Sunday night. I spent the weekend hanging out with Heaven and it was fun. Easy. She’s awesome. Great sense of humor, superior taste in music, and when we went out to eat, she sat on her own side of the table. She’s a vegetarian, so she didn’t get a burger, but she ordered a shitload of fried appetizers and that just might be even better.
I like being around her. I spent a lot of time laughing and that felt good as hell. And she’s hot, which is the best kind of perk. Finding a girl that’s attractive and funny—that’s my perfect combo.
It sucks she lives over an hour away, but we decided to see what happens. She’s coming down on Friday and I’m actually excited to introduce her to Guy. Now I need to figure out what to do about Kayla. We’re not serious—there was never a relationship established, but I know I need to make a clean break.
It’s close to ten and I’m lying in bed listening to music when my cell vibrates on my chest. I pick it up and stare at the screen. Annie. I was going to call her because I wasn’t expecting her to call me. Not after how I left things…
“Hello?”
“Hi,” she says softly, followed by a quiet throat clearing. “I’m checking in.”
She sounds off. Something’s wrong. I don’t know if it’s me—because of the song—or if it’s something else entirely. I’m afraid to ask because I’m glad she’s talking to me. And I didn’t realize how much I missed her these past few days until I heard her voice.
“All right. How was your long weekend?”
She’s quiet. One beat. Two. “It was good. Yours?”
She’s lying. I know she’s lying. I can hear it in the pitch of her voice. I close my eyes, trying to decide what to say. My other line beeps and I glance quickly at the caller ID. Heaven. Damn. I don’t even think about answering it. I like Heaven, but Annie’s upset about something and she’s been my friend longer.
“You okay?” I ask.
She laughs darkly, but doesn’t answer and it’s all the confirmation I need. “My mom actually didn’t screw up the turkey this year. Did Guy tell you?”
“I haven’t seen him yet.” Annie obviously doesn’t want to talk about it, so I try to respect that. “I hope he brought me back leftovers.”
She laughs. “You’ve been to my house how many times? You know how many people live there. There were no leftovers.”
“Damn,” I sigh. “I’m hungry, too.”
“Want to go to Manton’s?”
“With you? Now?” I ask, surprised.
“Sure. Why not?”
“Okay. I’ll come pick you up?”
“Give me five minutes.”
What the hell is going on?
~*~
I glance over at Annie, still trying to figure out why she’s in my car. Why we’re headed to Manton’s. Why she called me. This seems like more than honoring our agreement.
I checked her immediately when she got into my car, my eyes flicking over her quickly, looking for any bruises. I didn’t see anything, but I do a more thorough inspection once we sit down in a booth. She looks fine. Pretty. Maybe a little sad.
“How’s Loden?” I ask, probing. And there it is. Her shoulders stiffen, her eyes drop to the table top, and she bites down on her lip.
“He’s fine. Good. Um, I met his parents this weekend. They’re nice.”
“Mm. That’s good. He went home with you?”
“Uh, yeah. We did the whole meet-the-family thing.” She runs her finger over a groove in the table and my eyes trail the movement.
“How’d he handle that? Thanksgiving with the clan. Twins tear him apart?” The twins are the youngest. Dinner with four-year-olds still going through their terrible twos is kind of like venturing into Hell.
With a sigh, Annie shakes her head. “Can we not talk about him?”
I cock a brow. Oh, now I really want to talk about him. “He’s your boyfriend,” I say, raising my hands, palms out. “If he’s that boring of a subject then why you with him?”
Not even kidding, she flinches. My thumb strums against my leg, tapping a beat out while I wait for her to answer me. The longer she sits there, quietly staring out the window, the more pissed I become.
“What did he do?” I demand. What the fuck did he do to her this time? I’m done playing games.
“Nothing,” she utters. “He didn’t do anything wrong. I just don’t feel like talking about him.”
Bullshit. Bull-motherfucking-shit. “Did he hurt you again?” I hiss. If he did it again…