by Rachel Leigh
“Huh?” I shoot up.
“Did you hear anything I just said?” His lips are agape and they slowly lift at the corner.
“Umm, yeah. She’s a queen and her king stays by her side because he loves her.”
Jasper laughs. “Anyway, so that’s our constellation. Glad we at least got a start on this project. We should head back.”
“We still have more wine.” I don’t want to go. I’m suddenly intrigued and not ready for this night to end. Not ready to go back to my house, alone.
“I shouldn’t. I have to drive. How about if we finish this up in my backyard? We can talk more about the project... or just hang out... if you want.”
I realize that I am watching his lips move and when they no longer do, my eyes are still on them until I look up and see him watching me. They widen and he grins, his cheeks matching my shade of pink. After watching him watch me last night through my window, I didn’t think it was possible to make him feel uncomfortable, but I think I just did it.
“Ok. That sounds nice.” I smile. Not forced. Not faked. A genuine smile in response to genuine happiness. Until my phone vibrates.
I ignore it. Not wanting to face the outside world just yet. When we get back in the car, it vibrates again, so I look.
My smile fades. My stomach drops and my cheeks flush again, this time not with embarrassment but rage.
“Everything ok?” Jasper asks, as he glances over at my phone in my hands. I stare down at the picture of Petra and Levi. He’s in some sort of brace overtop his suit and she’s got her dirty lips pressed to his cheek. “Why do you have a picture of Petra? I thought you hated that girl?”
“How do you feel about making a quick stop at the school?” I keep my eyes on the phone and my outer voice calm, as my inner voice howls.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, B. Whatever it is, let it go.”
“Easy for you to say. Your date didn’t blow you off and go with your enemy.” I look over to Jasper who’s jaw dropped in response.
“Oh hell, B. I really think we should just go home. You don’t wanna do anything you’ll regret.”
“I don’t?” I question him, questioning myself in the process. I don’t live with regrets. I live in the moment, and in this moment, I definitely want to stop at that dance, dress or not.
“Please. Let it go for now.”
“Why do you care?” I snap. “You don’t know me. You don’t know how I feel so quit acting like you know what’s best for me.”
“Annnnd, she’s back.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? You know what, nevermind. Just take me home.” I hiss, crossing my arms in front of me.
“Come on, we were having fun. Don’t ruin it.” He looks over to me with his head cocked to the side, sporting a grin.
I feel anger rising inside, burning my cheeks that are likely flushed bright red at this point. When I get to this point, I spew words without thinking, but even when I do take a second to think, I say them anyways. Sometimes I regret it, most of the time I don’t.
“No, actually it was lame. Just as I expected it would be. Take me home.” I turn my head and look out the window.
Jasper is taken aback by my words and doesn’t speak for the rest of the ride home. That regret stuff — this is one of those times I feel it.
I don’t even look at him. I know that was cold. I hate that I always put my foot in my mouth and then I don’t have the decency to admit it.
I fold my hands together and nuzzle them between my legs. Glancing over at Jasper, I notice he seems hurt by my words. For good reason. I really should try and get ahold of myself. He’s one of the good ones. I can tell he is. He may send out a villain vibe, but I get the feeling he has demons just as I do. We see them and feel their presence but others don’t even know they are there. At least with me, Jasper is kind. If only I knew how to act the same toward him. He doesn’t deserve my callousness.
When we pull into my driveway, I don’t get out. We sit for a few more minutes in silence. I need to say something. Anything. I turn toward him and look down at the center console. My eyes glued to it.
“I’m not a nice person. I rarely use my manners. I never apologize, even if I was in the wrong. I cover up my scars with designer clothes and makeup. I hide my heart behind harsh words and negativity. I’m mean, Jasper. Really fucking mean. I cut people down to make myself feel better and I build myself up on their shattered hearts.” I look up and our eyes lock. I hold the gaze. “If you know what's good for you, stay away from me.” I rush out of the car quickly and speed walk into the house.
Slamming the door behind me, I slowly slide down the wall to the floor and bury my face in my hands, crying silently. The tears fall and the gasps come, but they don’t make a sound.
I retrieve my phone and look again at the picture that Meg sent, only to torture myself further. My heart sinks a little deeper. Petra and Levi. It doesn’t make any sense. She’s wrong for him on so many different levels. A tear drops onto the screen, splattering on her crayon covered face, when another text from Jasper pops up.
New Kid: Is that what you want? For me to stay away?
My fingers graze over the letters. I type yes... delete. No... delete. My heart’s at war with my brain. I say nothing. I’ve already humiliated myself enough tonight. I opened up to Jasper, he saw a side of me that no one has ever seen and brought out a part of me that I thought was dead. My heart exposed. Raw, bitter, and ugly. He will soon realize that a monster lives inside me, and he will want no part of it.
New Kid: Answer me.
I peel myself off from the floor with my phone gripped tightly in my hand. My stomach drops and I jump back when the doorbell rings. I look out the peephole and standing there, staring right back at me, is Jasper. His dark eyes so alluring, chocolate colored irises with tiny specks of black. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and against my better judgement, I open the door.
“You sure are persistent.” I wipe away a stray tear that lingered in my eye.
“You ain’t seen nothing yet.” He chuckles. “I just wanted to make sure you’re ok. I know it took a lot…”
I cut him off mid-sentence, “Don’t. Please. I don’t want to talk about that anymore. I should have never even opened up like that.”
“Why not? There is nothing wrong with what you said. Aside from the fact that I don’t believe it.”
“You think I was lying?”
“I think that you believe your own lies. You aren’t the horrible person you pretend to be.”
“Jasper, you...”
This time, he cuts me off, only not with his words, but with his mouth—pressed firmly against mine. I stand frozen, my arms draped at my sides. Until he places his hands on each side of my head and tangles his fingers in my hair. My lips part slowly when his tongue moves in, dancing circles around mine. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer, kicking the door shut behind us.
“They taste sweet,” He breathes into my mouth. “Sweet, delicious lies.”
My heart is hammering in my chest, and I know that he can feel it against his body, because I feel the same from him.
I’m enamored by his touch, and the sweet taste of red wine on his lips. My body tingling in places that haven’t had attention in months.
Jasper pulls away, his hands still holding me. “You never answered me. Is that what you want?”
Out of fear of this ending, I shake my head no. I feel his hand slowly sweep up the back of my shirt as his fingers graze gently over my skin, sending electrical impulses with every stroke.
The sound of Esme rustling around in the kitchen forces Jasper to pull back. “Shit, are your parents here?”
“That’s just our housekeeper. Come on.” I take hold of his hand and lead him up to my bedroom.
“What’s Blacksmith Oil?” he asks, on his way up the stairs, taking in one of Dad’s prized possessions.
“Just where my dad works, let’s go.” I give him a tug as
he studies the plaque.
I close the door and lock my fingers together behind his head. With his lips pressed against my neck, he lifts me up with his hands under my ass as I straddle my legs around him. “If we’re going to do this then you need to know, I’m not looking for a relationship, Jasper.” I pull away and look him in the eyes to make sure that he hears me. I don’t want him thinking that, after this, I belong to him and that we are going to walk through the halls of Redwood as the happy new couple.
“Then you should know that I’m not planning on sleeping with you, Blakely.” He speaks so casually with his face nuzzled back into my neck.
“Good. Because I didn’t plan on sleeping with you anyways.” I really didn’t, although the thought had crossed my mind while I was tangled up in his arms and my legs were giving out. “Contrary to the rumors, I’m not like that.”
“I’ve never heard any rumors. I’m the new guy, remember. And even if I did, I’m a see for myself kind of guy. So far...” he lays me on my back on the bed and lifts my shirt, exposing my stomach before pressing his mouth to my skin, “I like what I see.”
He works his way up my body as his lips move to mine. Our tongues intertwine as I feel the rise and fall of my chest against his. His heady breaths are warm against my skin, assuring me that he wants me just as much as I want him.
I throw my head back, closing my eyes, as he runs his finger under the rim of my jeans. Igniting something inside me, a want—a need. I need him. I groan when his hand creeps up my shirt, cupping my breast in his hand. “Don’t stop.” I breathe into his mouth.
In slow motion, he slides his body up onto mine, his erection pressed firmly against me. “What do you want?” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, and I can see in his eyes, feel in his touch that he’s going to give me exactly what I want. “Tell me.”
“You. I want you.” I lift my head to kiss him, but he backs up.
“No. Tell me what you want.”
I close my eyes, so I can’t see his expression. I’m not used to this vulnerable state, but I’m not letting him get away. “Make me feel good.”
With one hand, he unbuttons my jeans and slides his hand down, rubbing against my cotton panties. “Like this?”
“Yes.” I beg, I plead. Give me more. I open my eyes, and he’s watching me intently. Waiting for my reaction, wanting me to beg.
He moves to the side of me, and I lift one leg up, as his hand moves underneath my panties. He runs his thumb over my clit. “Like this?”
I nod, stretching my arm down and rubbing the outside of his sweatpants. I put my hand against his and press it further into me, focusing on the outline of his fingers and curling them up so that they are at my entrance.
He pulls his hand out, and the thought crosses my mind that he isn’t interested. Until, he begins pulling my jeans down, followed by my panties. I give them a kick until I’m freed from them.
My whole body is burning for more. His teeth graze over my ear, and his warm breath shoots a tingling sensation through me. Two fingers slide in, in a slow motion. I buck my hips and begin riding his hand. “You’re so wet for me.” His voice is raw and full of the same desire.
I push my hand down his pants and brush my fingers over his silky smooth cock, before taking it in my hand. He slides his pants down past his thighs and kneels in front of me, his length not disappointing in the least.
Slow and smooth escalates quickly into rapid and deep, moving at high speed. “Oh God, Jasper. Don’t stop.” I whimper.
I rub my fingers gently over the head of his cock and use my free hand to cup his balls before resuming the stroking motion. He lifts his head looking into my eyes and we both combust at the same time. His mouth forms an O, with his eyes glued to mine, and I come undone. I bite down on my lips to try and contain my outburst. There is no point in trying, because the next thing I know, I’m releasing sounds that I didn’t even know I could compose.
His cum shoots aimlessly as my hand continues to stroke in his release.
When I think that he’s going to stop and pull his hand up, he continues. Flicking my clit with his thumb as his fingers continue to ride out my orgasm. I jerk at his touch as it sends a wave of electricity through my body until I’m forced to place my hand over his, the voltage too much to handle. The weight of his body now on me, I close my eyes and smile. “That was nice.”
He kisses the tip of my nose. “Nice? It was fucking amazing.”
Strange feelings slowly replace my orgasm. A need to feel his protection and touch in a way that doesn’t satisfy me sexually, but emotionally. I lie with my hands stuck to my side, unsure whether I should wrap them around him, push him off, or just stay still and take this all in.
He falls to the side of me and I sit myself up. “Where are you going?” he asks.
“Bathroom.” I get to my feet as my legs tremble beneath me, feeling the remnants of my orgasm sticking to my thighs. I grab a pair of yoga pants from my dresser then go into my ensuite bathroom and clean up.
That was intense—bewitching, but mostly intense. I’m left feeling some sort of way that I can’t wrap my head around. A desire to be near him, but at the same time, a need to stay as far away as I can. He is gaining the upper hand, the power to hurt me. To break my heart and destroy me in the process.
When I go back into the bedroom, I’d half expected him to be gone. But, he’s still here. Lying on my bed with a notebook in his hand.
“Hey.” I hurry over, jumping on the bed and snatching my book from his hands. “That’s personal.”
“If it were personal then why was it laying wide open on your nightstand?”
“Because this is my bedroom. That's why.” I close the notebook and open up the drawer to my nightstand, stuffing it inside.
“Those are really good. Have you been drawing for a while?”
“Only my entire life.” I sit down next to him as he lays comfortably on my bed with his arms under his head. His eyes zeroing in on me. He looks like an alluring god sent to rescue my bitter heart.
“So, who’s the guy?” He leans forward, bracing himself on his elbows.
“Knox. My very best friend.” I twirl a strand of hair around my finger, feeling a little uncomfortable talking about something as personal as my drawings.
“You too are pretty close, huh?”
“He’s family. Aside from my brother, Talon, and an aunt and uncle I rarely see.”
“What about your mom and dad?” His lips pierce into a hard line.
I close my eyes for a moment, thinking of the best approach to that question. I could say that my dad is a drunk who only cares about his job, and my mom only cares about his money. But, I’m not about to lay it all out there, even if I did just share an important part of myself with him.
“They’re here, but they don’t exist. It’s complicated.”
I’m not sure why I’m telling him anything at all. It could be the possibility that he might understand me more than most people do. I feel like he wouldn’t run away if he really knew me. Like he might stick around for the adventure.
“I know the feeling. My dad and I have always been super tight, but ever since we moved in with the Robinsons, things have changed.” He rakes his fingers through his hair.
“The Robinsons?” I laugh, “Val and Knox are great, you just have to give them a chance. Knox is sort of stubborn, but he’s a good guy with a good heart—one of the few.”
“Speaking of Knox, I’m pretty sure he’s got a thing for you.” His tone shifts to one more serious.
“Whaaat? That’s insane. Knox has no interest in me in that way.”
“Are you sure about that? No guy is that close to a girl like you without wanting something more than her friendship.” He cocks an eyebrow.
I shake my head at the notion. “You have no clue what you’re talking about. Knox and I have a very different, very unique friendship.”
“So you’re fucking him?” He deadpans.
�
�Oh my god, Jasper. No!” I spit. “That’s ridiculous!”
“If you say so.” He shrugs it off.
Jasper’s face is difficult to read. I can’t tell if he’s jealous of the possibility that Knox and I are more than friends, or if he’s just curious.
“Tell me more about your drawings. What inspires you? Why do you do it?”
I let out a sigh of relief that we’re done with that conversation.
I lay back onto the pillow next to his, invading his space as he takes up mine. My arm is curled underneath, propping my head up a tad. “I’m inspired by everything. Nature, people, hate, anger, betrayal. If you’ve never seen a picture of hate, then you’ve never seen a drawing by Blakely Porter.”
“How exactly does one draw hate?” His forehead wrinkles, and I can only assume it’s in disbelief that it’s even possible to draw an emotion.
“Hate is black. An array of lines that have no beginning or end. They mesh together in a mess of emotion. Tears, stains, cuts, and fragments of a broken heart.”
“For someone who doesn’t like anyone or anything, you sure do feel a lot.” Jasper props himself back up on his elbow, looming over me— suddenly making me feel more exposed than I was with his hand shoved down my pants.
“I never said I don’t like anyone. I don’t trust anyone, there’s a difference.” I roll on my side to face him, meeting this vulnerability head on.
“What is it that you don’t trust anyone with?” Our eyes catch, sending a quiver through me.
“Myself. It’s simple really. If you don’t let them in, they can’t hurt you.”
“Have you ever considered the fact that if you don’t let them in, you’re hurting yourself even more?” He begins tracing his index finger on my arm, leaving goosebumps in its path.
I don’t respond. I don’t know how to. I wiggle my arm free and sit up as I run my hand over the trail from his touch.
“Ok, I think we’ve had enough of this therapy session for the night. You should probably go home.” I spew the words without thinking. I don’t really want him to go. But I need to put my walls back up. I gave him so much of me tonight, more than I’ve given people who I’ve known my entire life.