“We’re almost seventeen,” I tell her. “Practically adults. We should be able to do whatever we want.”
The sly smile on Ellie’s face makes me laugh. “You’re right. We are practically adults. Maybe we could camp out there in one of the old abandoned cabins.”
“Maybe.” I draw the word out, contemplating the situation. I have no idea what we’re getting into. “Or we could sleep in my car.”
Ellie makes a face. “That sounds uncomfortable.”
“We’ll bring blankets and pillow,” I suggest. “It’ll be fun. Like camping.”
How I’ll talk to Eli without Ellie around, I don’t know, but I can make this work.
I have to.
Fifteen
Eli
“What do you think, man?” Jackson spreads his arms wide the moment we enter the old, dilapidated cabin that belongs to his uncle. “Pretty nice, am I right?”
I stomp on a warped floorboard, pushing it back into place. The entire floor rattled when I did that, and I didn’t even put all my weight into it. “Kind of raggedy interior, my friend. But it’ll do for tonight.”
Jackson takes Brenden and I on a quick tour. Three tiny bedrooms, one bathroom with a rusted-out sink. The kitchen looks straight out of olden times, with avocado colored appliances and narrow countertops. The sink is stainless and when I turn on the faucet, it sputters, shooting out blasts of water before it switches into a steady trickle.
“This kitchen sucks,” I tell him.
“What do you plan on doing, fixing dinner for everyone tonight?” Jackson asks just before he starts to laugh. “Who cares? The fridge works, and it’s fully stocked.”
I go to the refrigerator. It’s short. I tower over it, and when I pull open the door, I find Jackson isn’t lying. The interior is stacked with beer bottles and cans in a variety of brands, whatever anyone prefers. “Where’d you get all the beer?”
“My uncle,” Jackson says with a shrug. “He hooked me up. Plus, Cory’s coming through with some refreshments tonight too.”
As per usual. Swear to God the only reason we let him hang out with us is for the alcohol he provides. Otherwise, Cory is annoying as fuck.
“Think Callahan is going to show?” Jackson asks me, his eyebrows shooting up in question.
I hate to break it to him—and I never will—but Friday night’s Snap story wasn’t for Jake. Everyone else thinks it is, and that’s fine. This is my little secret. If Jake does actually show up, cool. Bring it. It’ll give me immense satisfaction to smash my fist into his pretty face. But really?
I’m looking to see if Ava shows up. She watched my story. I know she did. Thank you Snapchat creators, for letting us keep track of that shit. Did she read between the lines, as they say? Did she figure out that I was speaking directly to her?
Because I was.
I hope I’m haunting her dreams, since she sure as hell is haunting mine. I may have hung out with Tara Perkins at school this entire week, but I was bored. And I definitely haven’t made any moves. We send photos back and forth to each other every night via Snap, but nothing too scandalous. I think she believes she’s playing hard to get.
While I’m playing, I don’t give a crap.
Tara will be here tonight. She asked to hang out with me, and I’m going to let her. Fuck Ava Callahan. Her bitch ass probably won’t show up anyway.
She’s too scared to face me.
Being scared is stupid. You can’t live if you’re scared all the damn time. Look at my mother. She’s frightened of her own shadow, thanks to Dad abandoning her. Now she holes up in the house all damn day, chugging wine and praying he’ll come back. Not that she’d ever admit that last part.
But I know that’s what she wants. Deep down, I want it too. I want my family back together. I need some normalcy back in my life. Why did my parents have to be so damn selfish? Why couldn’t they wait to split until I was at least out of high school?
Shoving all thoughts of my parents and their messed-up marriage aside, I slam the fridge door shut and turn to smile at Jackson, realizing the patient motherfucker is still waiting for my answer.
“If Jake shows, he shows. I won’t start any shit unless he says something first,” I reassure him. I don’t know if I’m speaking the truth, but it sounds good.
Jackson makes a noise that tells me he doesn’t believe me. “I don’t care what you do. Just don’t trash my uncle’s place.”
“I won’t,” I tell him as we head back outside.
Brenden is out in the makeshift front yard, piling a bunch of sticks and wood and paper in the firepit. Once the sun goes down fully, we’ll light that baby up, and that’s where everyone will end up hanging out. Nothing better than sitting around the fire with a cold beer in your hand and a pretty girl sitting on your lap.
Flashes of Ava’s face appear in my memory banks, and I get irritated. She won’t show. She probably didn’t even pick up on the vibe I was sending. I bet she assumed it was all for her brother. I don’t give a damn about her brother.
I only care about her.
Pathetic, right? I’ve turned into a complete asswipe. I’m now the guy I made fun of for all these years. I hate that.
Sometimes, I hate myself. Who knew I’d act like this over a girl I barely know? That’s the thing that gets me the most. I don’t know Ava. Not that well. But I’m like a man obsessed. I want more of her.
All of the time.
A car pulls up in front of the cabin, the lights cutting across our faces when it turns into a parking spot, blinding us all. Hands automatically go up to cover our eyes and when the engine shuts off, the doors swing open and a bunch of girls spill out of the vehicle.
Time to party.
Jackson greets the group of girls like a professional host at a grand affair, and I swear to God, they all squeal like fangirls who were just approached by a pretty dude from a boy band.
“Are you going to sing by the fire tonight, Jackson?” one of them dares to ask, the others all giggling at her boldness.
I want to make a gagging gesture, but I keep myself in check.
“If you’re lucky,” Jackson says with a wink.
They all really lose their shit then, and somehow they move as one unit toward the house as Jackson leads them there.
Brenden appears by my side, shaking his head as we watch them all walk into the cabin. “What’s that like?”
I glance over at him. “What’s what like?”
“Having that many girls follow you around as if you can do no wrong,” Brenden explains. “Though I suppose you already know. They all used to squeal over you like that too.”
Freshman and sophomore year, I was the shit. Girls flocked to me. Midway through junior year, I started to get rough around the edges. I blame my parents’ situation. I got angrier.
And it started to show.
“It’s awesome, at first,” I tell Brenden. “But after a while, they have expectations that you can’t possibly live up to.”
“Oh, give me a break. Like what?”
“Like they expect you to be perfect,” I say.
And that is the very last thing I am.
More cars start to show up, each of them loaded with people. Someone brought a tiny Bose speaker and hooked up their phone to it via Bluetooth, so tunes start to play, mostly country songs, which I can only tolerate for a short period of time. Cory appears with jugs of cheap vodka and gallons of cranberry juice, and I swear to God, most of the girls cream their panties at first sight.
Who knew Ocean Spray is the secret tonic to get girls off?
He may be annoying, but that Cory is smart. The girls ditch Jackson—who by now is walking around with his guitar slung over his back, though he hasn’t started playing yet—and they follow after Cory, all of them begging for a vodka/cran.
Brenden and I settle in on a giant tree stump that sits atop a small hill to the right of the cabin. Eventually, Kayla and Tara show up. Since they’re friends, they came to the p
arty together, and they make their way to where we’re sitting.
“Hey boys,” Kayla calls with a wave, her gaze skittering to me before she turns all of her attention on Brenden. “Why you hiding up here?”
“Waiting for you,” I tell them smoothly, which is a lie.
This is the perfect vantage point for me to see every single person who shows up at this stupid ass party. I’m waiting for one girl in particular. So far, no bueno.
But it’s still early. She’s got time.
“You look good.” Tara sidles up next to me, practically depositing herself in my lap. I angle myself away from her at the last minute, and while I see the disappointment written all over her face at my swerve, I still manage to dazzle her with a giant smile. “We going to hang out tonight or what?”
Pretty sure she wants to hook up. If Ava doesn’t show, I’m down. I have to find an outlet for this pent-up sexual frustration somewhere.
But for now, I’m gonna play it cool.
“Sure.” I tilt my head and smile at her, drinking her in. “You’re looking pretty fine yourself.”
She’s got on skin tight black jeans and one of those gauzy white shirts girls like to wear to look all earthy or whatever. It skims her curves, downright hiding them and that’s disappointing, but hey, I know they exist.
And I guess that’s all that matters.
“I hear Cory has vodka,” I tell Tara, and her face lights up.
“Where’s he at?” she asks as she glances around.
I nod toward the cabin, which is packed full of females. “Inside there, playing bartender.”
She glances over at Kayla. “Let’s go get a drink.” Tara smiles at me. “We’ll be back.”
“Take your time,” I say easily.
The moment they’re gone, Brenden is shooting daggers at me. “What the fuck, dude? Why would you send them away?”
“So they can get a couple of drinks in them. You don’t want her hanging out with you the entire night, do you?”
“Yeah, actually I do!” Brenden runs a hand through his hair, his irritation clear. “What if some other guy talks to her?”
“There are nothing but girls in that cabin. And Cory,” I remind him. “They all want vodka.”
“So they’ll all hang out with Cory for the rest of the night,” he says morosely.
“Are you even listening to yourself right now? They’re only using him for the booze.” I slap Brenden in the back of his head, and he sends me a death stare. “They don’t give a shit about him. He’s annoying as hell, but they’ll suck up to him for a chance to get a cup of vodka and a splash of cranberry. That’s what the chicks really want to drink, not this shitty beer.” I wave my beer bottle at him, shaking my head when I see Brenden is watching me with mass confusion written all over his face. “You have to learn how to play it cool, my friend. Let them do whatever they want, make them believe they’re in control of the situation. Eventually, they’ll make their way back to us, and they won’t leave our sides for the rest of the night.”
Brenden chugs from his beer, shaking his head. “Your logic makes no sense.”
“Because you don’t get it.” I point my almost empty bottle toward the cabin. “Go chase after her. Follow her for the rest of the night, and watch how often she tries to ditch your ass. Go for it.”
He glares at me. Finally, he understands. He knows I’m speaking the truth. I’ve witnessed him do exactly that many a time at many a party. “I’m not moving.”
“Good. Me either. Let them come to us, bro. They eventually will. Trust in the process.” I toss my now empty beer bottle onto the ground and grab another one out of the ice chest I brought with me. I came prepared tonight. Hell, I even brought condoms.
Wishful thinking.
We sit up on the hill for over an hour. Until it starts getting cold as fuck and I make Brenden go to my car where we left our sweatshirts. By the time he’s back with them, Jackson is sitting by the fire, playing his guitar and crooning about magic sand and beach waves, all the girls watching him with rapt attention.
He’s such a cheesy motherfucker, but it works for him, so I have to give him props.
Tara and Kayla came by at one point and chatted with us for a few before they took off again. Brenden looked like he wanted to cry. I told him to grow some balls.
And still, we wait.
Finally around ten, the girls settle in with us. Kayla is snuggled up close to Brenden with his arm slung around her shoulders, and Tara is perched on my lap, her skinny butt bone digging into my thigh.
I prefer my girls curvier, but right now, I take what I can get.
The girls are buzzed and so am I. Brenden is as sober as a nun, the poor dude. He drank that one beer hours ago and gave up. He’s trying to be the responsible one tonight, which I appreciate. Either that or he’s afraid he might get too sloppy and make a fool of himself over Kayla.
The only way I’ll get through tonight is by being drunk as fuck, so I crack open another one.
“Do you actually like me, Eli?” Tara asks, tapping her index finger against my chest.
I smile up at her, shifting her weight so her bony ass doesn’t dig into my thigh in the same spot. “Of course, I like you.”
“I treated you soooo bad last year. At the Sadie dance.” She frowns, sticking out her bottom lip like she’s pouting.
“All is forgiven.” I wave a hand, losing my grip on her, and she almost goes sliding off. At the last second, I hook my arm around her waist, keeping her in place, and she circles her arms around my neck, her face practically in mine as she laughs. “Almost lost you.”
“That’s how I felt. I almost lost you last year,” she says, her gaze zeroed in on my lips. “Now I want to keep you.”
I tip my head back, staring into her eyes. They’re blue. I wish they were green. I wish she was blonde. I wish she was Ava. I’d do just about anything to hear her say she wants to keep me. “Really? Why the sudden change of heart?”
“You’re fun. You’re cute. You’re dangerous.” She leans down so our foreheads are touching. “I’m tired of being boring.”
“You’re not boring.” I’m a liar. She’s a little boring. “And what do you mean, I’m dangerous?”
“You give off serious bad boy vibes. It’s cute.” Her arms tighten around my neck. “And sexy.”
A car suddenly appears, the lights sweeping across us when it parks, catching my attention. I pull away from Tara and watch, squinting into the darkness to try and make out what kind of car it is.
But I can’t tell.
“What are you do—”
“Sshhh,” I tell Tara, cutting her off as I wait for whoever showed up to get out of the car. My entire body is tense, and I can literally feel Tara’s displeasure.
But I don’t care.
I can also distinctly hear the sound of lips connecting, and when I quickly glance over at Brenden and Kayla, I see that they’re full on lip-locked. Pretty sure I saw tongue.
They need to take that shit somewhere private.
Both car doors swing open at the same time and I wait, holding my breath. Tara’s got her hand on my cheek, trying to angle my face in her direction and I go with it, not wanting to put up a fight, though my eyes are still glued on those open doors.
Only two people exit the car.
They’re female. I can tell from their shapes and their height. I hear one of them giggle, the sound unfamiliar. That one has dark hair.
My heart sinks.
Just before it soars.
The other one is blonde.
There she is. She came. She knew.
It’s Ava.
She’s looking around as she approaches the circle of people sitting by the fire. Like she might be looking for someone.
For me.
I will her gaze to lift. I stare at her hard, ignoring the admittedly pleasant sensation of Tara’s fingers on my cheek, of her whispery breath brushing against my lips as she speaks. I have no clue what sh
e’s saying. She could be begging me to fuck her, and I’d have no idea.
Look at me, Ava. See me.
She lifts her head, her gaze searching. Searching. Finding.
Found.
Our gazes lock. Even this far away, I can see her. She sees me.
Just before Tara’s mouth lands on mine.
Sixteen
Ava
Oh my God, I hate him so much. My anger is choking me, making it a struggle to breathe. He’s sitting up on a hill, sharing a large tree stump with another guy and two girls. One of them sitting directly on his lap, her face in his, her hand on his cheek.
I watch in disbelief as he stares at me, his gaze defiant, his expression hard. Like he’s both pleased to see me, yet wants me gone as well.
I feel the same exact way.
He licks his lips, and it’s like I can feel them lick at my soul. Tantalizing me.
Tempting me.
Then the girl kisses him.
And I see red.
“I hate men,” I say bitterly as I stomp my way toward the fire.
Ellie chases after me. “What brought that on?” she calls.
I ignore her question, coming to a stop directly across from where Jackson Rivers sits. He’s plucking at his guitar, surrounded by a plethora of girls, all of them watching him with adoring eyes. He’s not singing a word. Yet they all appear as if they’re about to throw their bras at him.
This guy must be working some extra magic tonight.
“Hey chicas!”
I turn to find Marty Torres making his way toward us. I know him vaguely. Nice, cute. Cousin of Diego. Best friends with Hannah Walsh, the girl my brother might be seeing? I have no clue what’s happening there, and Jake currently isn’t talking to me about it.
“Marty! What are you doing here?” Ellie asks as she runs up to him and throws her arms around him in a big hug.
“I heard a certain boy might show, so I had to come. Besides, I knew my cousin wouldn’t be here, so I wouldn’t have to deal with him.” Marty sniffs and shakes his head, his disgust for Diego clear. His gaze shifts to me. “Jakey-poo’s sister, right?”
Addicted To Him Page 13