I didn’t just say that out loud. In front of my brothers.
To Lo, Ryke asks, “Did she just fucking say she’s giving Garrison a blow job for the first time?”
I did.
Lo shoots him a look. “Thanks for repeating that. Like I didn’t need to bleach my brain before.”
“I thought she’s already had sex with him,” Ryke says in confusion.
“Huh.” Lo’s brows scrunch. “Does that mean you’re still a vir—”
“No,” I say quickly.
Cremate me, please. I hide behind my hanging overalls.
Rose snaps, “Blow jobs don’t have to come before sex.”
I’m shriveling like a withering flower, and the Calloway sisters tell them to stay out of it, coming to my defense.
It’s easier to focus on the strangers making out on my bed now. I want to escape the embarrassment of Lo and Ryke knowing I’m planning to give Garrison a blow job.
I tuck my laptop to my chest. “I’m going out there.”
“Good,” Lo says.
“We’re here,” Rose reminds me.
Daisy makes a heart shape with her hands.
They all watch me like this is a college-aged flick that they’re very much invested in, and quietly, I push the door open.
“Right there, Mattie. God,” she moans, not even hearing me crawl out of the closet.
I stand up. “Oh.” I shield my face with a hand, blocking out the scene of a twenty-something dude going down on a girl in a miniskirt and floral crop top.
Should’ve stopped them sooner, Willow.
This is my penance. My dues that I must pay. “Um,” I start to say.
She gasps at the sight of me. “Mattie. Mattie!” Bed squeaks as they shift.
“Can you please leave?” My cheeks are hot. “This is my room.”
“Were you hiding in the closet watching us?” Mattie accuses heatedly, slurring some of his words, American accent and drunk-self clear.
“The fucking nerve of that asshole,” Rose says loudly on the computer, which is faced towards my body. Not the strangers.
I drop my hand from my face.
They’re staring at the computer with confusion. So they definitely heard Rose.
I try to play it off as nothing. “Uh…no,” I tell them. “I was in the closet to block out the party. It was loud.”
“You don’t owe them a fucking explanation,” Ryke growls.
Mattie makes a noise of shock. “Is that Ryke Meadows?”
I should’ve muted the video chat.
The girl fixes her askew skirt as she stands, ignoring her hookup buddy or boyfriend or whoever.
Mattie squints, trying to place me. “You’re that girl.” He sways as he rises off my bed. “What’s her name, Dina?” he asks the brunette. “You know the dorky one with the glasses? She rarely talks and she’s always hanging around the hot blonde Calloway?”
I’m standing right here.
I don’t back up. Trying to hold my ground.
“I don’t know,” Dina says, putting her hair into a ponytail. “She asked us to leave, let’s go.”
“Thank you,” I say too softly. I’m not sure anyone can hear.
Mattie holds out a hand. “Wait, hold on.”
I shake my head. “The party is out there.” I motion to the door, laptop in my other grip.
“Come on, don’t be like that,” Mattie says, sounding kind. He offers me an amicable smile. “I’m even wearing the underwear Ryke, Lo, and Connor modeled for charity this summer.”
Dina snorts like yeah right. Like he’s lying, and then she exits the room.
Leaving me alone with him.
He watches the door click shut.
My heart rate speeds. “Um…could you please go? I’m kind of busy.”
Mattie smiles back at me. “Do you have time for a drin—”
“Open your fucking ears!” Lo yells so loud, my speakers crackle. “She told you a hundred goddamn times to get out of her room. So get the fuck out before I make your life a living hell—you’ll wish all I did was break your dick in two.” His voice is dripping in acid.
Mattie looks…scared, just from hearing Lo. He doesn’t even see the venomous glare attached.
“I…uh,” Mattie stammers. “Is that…?” Befuddlement crosses his face, and I step forward and sort of corral him out, all without touching him.
I’m lucky that he doesn’t put a hand on me.
“Wait…” He gawks, dazedly leaving my room.
I shut and lock the door.
“Thanks,” I tell everyone on the computer. “I have this now.” They voice encouragements and “stay safes” before I close the laptop.
Anxious heat still clings to me, even though the guy is gone.
It’s in these moments that I wish I took up meditation. Daisy suggested it. She’s been doing twenty-minute sessions in her treehouse every morning with Sulli. It’s apparently good to refocus the mind. I need some intense refocusing.
A message pings my phone.
Garrison: Landed. In cab. See you soon *pizza emoji* *smiley face emoji* *heart emoji*
My anticipation ratchets up, and I quickly text him the apartment building’s door code. I was going to meet him at the airport, but he said he’d meet me here. He knows I get anxiety at airports, but I wish I braved it for him tonight.
It would’ve been better than staying behind at this party. But just thinking about confronting the airport crowds made me break out in a nervous sweat for two hours.
I let out a tense breath and rest my back on the thumping wall. Music still blasting. Chants of “chug, chug, chug!” still happening.
And then I eye the smashed pillows and crumpled comforter. Gross.
Strip the bed, Willow.
I move my feet and do just that.
10 PRESENT DAY – August
London, England
GARRISON ABBEY
Age 21
Once I’m in the apartment complex, I hear club music and drunken laughter, and I’m thinking there’s no way that’s my girl’s place.
A house party?
On a Wednesday?
It sounds like Willow’s worst nightmare. Yet, I stroll up to the ajar door where the noise booms out. Weekend-duffel slung on my shoulder, I double-check the apartment number.
This is her flat.
What if she likes parties now? I’d like to believe she hasn’t changed so much that I don’t know her anymore. We saw each other a decent amount this summer.
I push into the rowdy, packed apartment. About fifty students here. Already hammered. Guys are wobbling and spilling their shit on furniture. Beer. Liquor. Fizz.
I glance back at the door. Can’t believe that was literally half-opened.
Any stalker or creep could just prance right on through. This is a serial killer’s wet dream and the way idiots die at the start of horror flicks, before the movie title even appears.
Thinking about someone killing Willow makes me nauseous. I rub a hand over my mouth, and stepping forward, my black Converse crunches a beer can.
“Drink it! Drink it!” college students shout as a guy sucks a shot off a girl’s belly button, lying on the beer pong table.
Not even one more foot forward and a familiar face confronts me. Salvatore Amadio, AKA the vampire-knockoff that I knocked out, blocks my path.
Awesome.
Here we go already.
Two button-down preppy dudes flank him. A pen is in Salvatore’s mouth like he’d been scoring some drinking game, and a glass of whiskey is in his hand. His plaid pants would look douchey on just about anyone, so I try not to judge him for it.
“Hey, man,” I greet. “Sorry about…” I motion to my cheek, even though I hit his cheek before.
He glares.
I’m so great at making friends. God, it’s weird to think that at one point, I was extremely popular.
I nod. “Right. Look, you know which one is Willow’s room?” I dig my
hand in a pocket for my phone. Planning to text her anyway.
Salvatore takes the pen out of his mouth with arrogance, like he’s the big man on campus. “You’re not welcome here.”
He’s got to be shitting me. “My girlfriend lives here.”
“Exactly.” He has these annoying overprotective eyes. Like he’s still trying to protect Willow from me, and it’s just…
I let out an irritated laugh. “Wow, you must be so concerned about the safety of your roommate. Leaving the front door wide open for anyone and their creep cousin to stroll through, that’s real smart shit right there—”
“A creep like you.” He steps forward, about to physically push me out, and I move backwards on instinct, away from his hands.
My pulse jacks up. “I’m not looking for a fight, man.” I stop in the doorway. Refusing to be kicked out.
Taller than me, Salvatore grips the frame above my head. “You’re lucky I’m not decking you in the face after you sucker-punched me.”
Sucker-punch.
Fuck, I don’t think I’d call it that. I’m not that strong. Or at least, I wasn’t. Now that I live with Lo, I have access to his home gym and he practically pulls me down there every night to do reps with him.
In Lo’s words: exercise is good for people like us.
Sometimes it does pull me out of bad moods.
“Appreciate it,” I tell Salvatore, “but I’m here to see Willow. She knows I’m coming.”
“She didn’t tell me about it.”
Yeah.
I know.
Willow told me she was working herself up to it, and I don’t blame her for not wanting to get into drama with her new roommates.
Agitation gathers. “I didn’t realize my girlfriend needed to send you personal memos every time she breathes.”
He shoves my chest, hard and quick.
I stumble out, tripping over my feet, and he slams the door in my face.
Me and my fucking mouth. My pulse is in my throat now that he touched me. I’m not a fighter.
I flee, but he doesn’t know that.
Swallowing my heart rate, I try to call Willow.
The line rings out, and I send a text: I’m here. Salvatore locked me out.
Yeah, I’m throwing the douchebag under the proverbial bus. He can eat shit.
My phone vibrates.
Lo: You there yet? There’s a party at Willow’s flat. Make sure this prick named Mattie isn’t in her room or around her.
What the fuck is happening?
Worry mounts, and I pound a fist on the door. “WILLOW! WILLOW!”
The door swings open.
And this time, it’s her. Glasses slip down her nose, beer spilt on her plain blue tee and jeans. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t hear your call over this…?” She winces at the party behind her and looks uncomfortable, shoulders bowed in and head ducked.
I come inside and shut the front door behind. “You didn’t know they were throwing a party?”
She shakes her head.
Fuck.
She rubs her arm. “How was the flight?” She says something else, but I can’t hear her soft voice over the noise.
“What?” I lean into Willow, a hand on her waist.
She takes a breath and whispers in my ear, “Do you need to a shower, after all the traveling?”
“Yeah, that’d be good.” I eye the glares from Salvatore and his guy friends.
She follows my gaze and shoots them a look like, stop. The force dies as the front door whooshes open behind us and more students file in with cases of beer.
Willow tries to step out of the way, but she bumps into another girl. “Sorry,” she whispers, and I clasp her hand. Drawing her into my chest.
She clutches onto my waist and calms more.
My mouth brushes her ear. “Where’s the bathroom?”
“Down that hall.” She points to the left.
I wrap an arm around her frame, and Willow leans into me while I guide her through the party. Once we’re in the small bathroom, I lock the door.
We’ll probably get shit for occupying the only bathroom here, but I don’t care. This is Willow’s apartment too.
“This isn’t how I wanted you to see my new place,” Willow says softly. “With people that I don’t even know.”
I drop my duffel on the bathmat. “Like this Mattie guy?”
Her eyes bug, then realization washes over. “Lo told you?”
“Not much.” I push hair out of my eyes. “Can you fill me in here?”
She does. The whole story. It takes probably ten minutes, and we’re both leaning against the sink cabinets, my arm around her hips.
It’s a lot to digest. “If you see Mattie, point him out to me?”
With two arms, Willow hugs me around the waist while we stand side by side, her touch still feather-light. “You don’t…you wouldn’t want to confront him…right?”
“I’d just like to keep an eye on him. Know your enemies and all that.”
She relaxes. “If I see him, I’ll let you know.”
I skim her more now.
Willow wets her lips and looks nervously at the tiled floor but also, she’s smiling. “You’re thinking about the other part of the story, aren’t you?”
I smile back. She’s so cute. “The blow job part.”
She talks to me, not the floor. “I thought about omitting that, but I figured it might be better to just tell you, so we can…practice.”
Have I imagined Willow sucking me off? Yeah.
But I’d be okay with never getting head if that’s what she preferred. It’s not necessary inside our living, breathing soul-deep connection.
“Let’s practice.” I pull my shirt off my head.
“Um…do I…?” She’s about to drop to her knees, but I catch her waist and pull her against my body.
Cupping her cheek, I tenderly, slowly draw her lips to mine. We kiss, consuming this trembling affection that pumps blood. Heady and electric.
Her fingers curl around the waistband of my jeans. I taste her eagerness and desire, and I track kisses down her neck. Her body bows into me. Closer, her breath shallowing.
Christ.
My dick stirs, and I trail my hand between her shoulder blades. I feel wetness from beer, and I pull back to ask, “Did you drink a beer?”
Willow glances at her stained clothes. “No, when you texted, I rushed to the door so fast that I knocked into someone’s Guinness.”
I hold her face. My heart is beating double-time for this girl. “You want to take a shower with me?”
Her lips part, then eyes widen on the tub-shower. “I, uh…”
“You can say no.” I press my lips to her forehead. “No pressure, Willow.”
She thinks quietly, her hand now in mine. She doesn’t let go, and I feel her fingers tighten around mine. “Okay.”
“You sure?”
“I want to,” Willow says, sounding assured. She fumbles with the buttons to my jeans, and I undo hers. Unzipping, I see the star pattern of her panties.
I dive my hand down to her ass, and she shuts her eyes, craving. Wanting. The same physical and emotional current runs through my veins. We shed each other to just aching skin, and I kiss her deeply while I reach out and crank on the faucet.
Water pours through the tub before I flick a switch. Heat cascades from the showerhead.
She takes off her glasses, setting them on the toilet lid, and we step in together. I help Willow so she doesn’t fall. Close-up, she can see somewhat without glasses, but further away, it’s all blurry.
I sling the shower curtain, closing us into the small space.
Vapor cocoons us, water drenching bodies and hair. I push mine out of my eyes, and I can see Willow descending into her head. Naked and vulnerable. Her shoulders turn in.
I bring her closer to me and hold my girlfriend for a second. Hugging her to my chest. I feel her speeding heart.
“You can bail at any time,” I remind Will
ow.
“I don’t want to,” she murmurs. “I want this. I’m trying not to think too much and just…feel.” She looks up into me and goes for the kiss.
I smile against her lips, and my hand roams along the curves and valleys of her soft skin. Parting her mouth with my tongue, I deepen the kiss, drawing a gentle moan from her body. Fuck. I harden.
She glances down, feeling me.
I let out a rough noise between my teeth. “Fuck, I want you.”
Willow smiles. “You do?”
I whisper against her mouth, “More than air.” I comb her wet hair off her cheeks. “You’re beautiful, Willow Hale. Inside, outside, online, offline.”
“You know, you are too.”
“Nah. Not as much as you.”
She loosens her arms, and her knees do this weird jerky thing. Like she almost drops down, but she stops herself too suddenly.
I put a hand to her shoulder. “You’ll be at a good height if you kneel.”
Willow, more confidently, lowers to her knees. My build blocks most of the water spray, so she’s not being drowned. She rests an uncertain hand on my ass. “I might not be any good at this.”
“You don’t have to be good.” I hold the back of her head, more tenderly. “We’re in this together.”
Her lips rise, excitement flickering in her brown eyes.
I palm my erection, and I drink in Willow’s body and emotion before taking her hand in mine and showing her what I like. Wrapping her hand around the base of my shaft.
She opens her mouth. Tentative. I arch my hips forward since she’s not moving her body or hand.
“Wider,” I instruct. “Wrap your lips around your teeth.”
She does, uncertain.
I nod to her. “That’s it.” Her lips glide against my hardness, taking me in her mouth, and the sensitivity shoots up my spine. Christ, that feels… “Fuck.”
She pulls back. “Did I hurt you?”
“No, no. That felt amazing.”
Willow brightens, and she tries again. My muscles pull taut, just watching my erection fit between her lips.
Wherever You Are (Bad Reputation Duet Book 2) Page 9