by Bailey B
“Fucking, bitch!” Gunner yells, rubbing his ear.
Logan rolls on to his side, then pushes himself up. Each movement is slow and controlled. I know he’s hurting, there’s no way he didn’t break something tonight. “Don’t fucking talk to her like that.”
“Whatever,” Gunner says, rising to his feet. “No skirt is worth this much trouble. Keep the bitch.”
Logan takes a step forward, but I grab his arm. I appreciate the notion, but one fight just ended. We don’t need another and truthfully, I don’t know if he’ll survive it. Gunner’s face is bloodied, nose twisted, lip split, but he looks like he feels a million times better than Logan.
Gunner steps into his car, slamming the door, then peels out. Logan stands by my side until Gunner’s no longer on school grounds. He turns to me, taking my cheeks in his hands and says, “Are you okay?”
“Me?” I laugh nervously. Outside of a sore wrist, I’m fine. “How about you?”
I run the pad of my thumb across Logan’s lip, smearing the blood to see how deep the cut is. It looks superficial, but it’s hard to tell in the dark. I wrap my arms around his waist and pull him into a hug. My heart’s racing. I was never scared—not for one minute—but I’m trembling. Adrenaline does crazy things to your body.
Logan grunts under his breath. I drop my arms and step back, narrowing my eyes on his beautiful, bloody face. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Logan turns and starts walking towards his abandoned duffle bag. His steps are slower, his spine rigid, tilting his torso to the left.
“Logan,” I warn, following close behind.
“It’s nothing, Danika, I’m fine.” He bends down to pick up his bag, fighting a groan in the process.
I poke Logan's side with my finger and he sucks in a breath, lips pressing into a tight line. “Uh-huh. Sure you are. I think my dad is still here if you want him to check you out again.”
“I’m good.” Logan insists, ignoring his pain and my frustration.
I swear, it’s his mission in life to agitate me in every way possible. As much as I hate the storm he creates inside me, I can’t stay away. I shake my head, letting out a sigh of disappointment. “You’re so stubborn.”
“You wouldn’t have me any other way.” Logan nudges me with his elbow. “Are you coming to Jake's party with me tonight?”
I wrinkle my nose. That’s probably the most unappealing idea I’ve heard all day. “Pretty sure that’s where Gunner’s headed.”
“Fuck Gunner. Besides, I want to show up with you on my arm and let everyone you’re mine.”
Logan wants to show me off? On the outside, I’m calm. Collected. Inside, I’m doing the happy dance. A smile tugs at my lips and I feel my cheeks heat. “When did that happen? Last I checked we were just friends.”
Logan grabs me by the waist and pulls me into him. He looks down at me, beautiful brown eyes locked on mine. Tonight they're the color of whiskey and I’m already drunk on them. “You were always mine, Danika. Always will be.”
24
Logan
Jake’s party is in full swing by the time we arrive. I have to park in the street because every available space leading up to the house is full. I slip my hand into Danika’s allowing our fingers to tangle together. She looks at me with a sideways glance, failing at fighting a smile, but doesn’t pull away. I hold them tighter, letting the electricity traveling up my arm take over.
I didn’t realize how much I wanted this. Now that I have Danika, I’m never letting her go.
When we reach Jake’s front door, Danika lets me go to pull her long locks into a ponytail. I open the door, letting her walk in first then place my hand on her lower back once we’re both inside. The music is loud, blasting through the whole house surround sound. I lean closer, her rosewater perfume wafting my senses. “Want something to drink?”
Danika nods and I lead her into the kitchen. I head for the fridge and grab a can of soda from the bottom drawer, prepared to tackle tonight like I do every party. On the edge sober. “What do you want?”
“Can I just have a soda?” Her eyes scan groups of people behind me. I’m sure she’s looking for Gunner, probably to stay as far away as possible.
“Of course. You don’t want a mixed drink or anything?” I pop the seal and split the coke between two red plastic cups.
Danika shakes her head. “No. I don’t really like drinking, but don’t let me stop you. I can drive tonight if need be.”
I smirk and hand Danika her cup. “I hardly ever drink at these things.”
“Bullshit.”
“Tis true.” I take a sip to hide the smile on my lips. I’ve never told anyone my secret. I’ve gotten good at pretending to be drunk: rarely pouring a drink in front of anyone that wasn’t from my soda filled flask, locking onto someone’s lips when pressured to do a keg stand, disappearing all together in the middle of the night. That last trick is my favorite. I hole up in a room, with my Netflix app, and people assume I’m there with a chick. “Everything you’ve been told about me is a lie.”
Sure, I usually end up having a combined drink or two by the end of the night, but it’s never enough to affect me. I can’t remember the last time I even had a buzz at a party.
Danika tilts her head, like she knows I’m full of shit. “So, your reputation for sleeping with anyone who will spread her legs for you is malarkey too?”
I set a bottle of whiskey on the counter, for show, then hand Danika her cup. “I’m not saying I’m a saint, but the number of women I’ve had sex with is probably much lower than you think.”
“Bullhonkey.”
I chuckle. This girl is too cute. Like cupcakes and unicorns cute. I didn’t just say that. What the fuck is happening to me? “Do you just make shit up in place of cursing? Or was that an actual word?”
“That is an actual word but I do try my hardest not to cuss. Although, sometimes I massively fail.”
“Why? It’s just a word. No one gives two shits if you have a dirty mouth.”
Danika’s smile falls, a glimmer of sadness dancing in her eyes. “My mom said ladies should be respectful.”
Some chick I hooked up with last year crosses into the kitchen. She glances at us curiously and pours herself a drink. I roll my eyes and lean against the counter; I can do this. I can keep my reputation and the girl. “Your mom is living in the past.”
“My mom’s dead.”
Shit. I knew that. Way to be insensitive. I run my hand over my face and exhale loudly. “Sorry. My dad isn't around anymore much. He’s not dead but sometimes I wish he was.”
“Don’t say that, Logan. People can atone for their mistakes, but they can’t come back from the dead.”
“Logan!” Melody squeals barging into the kitchen.
She throws her arms around me and plants a sloppy kiss on my lips. She tries to force her tongue in my mouth but I clench my teeth and push her off. Melody still hasn’t gotten the hint that we’re through. I’ve been nice, I’ve been mean, I’ve blatantly ignored the girl and it has yet to penetrate her thick skull. “Melody, you’re drunk.”
“Like that’s ever stopped you before.” She wiggles her eyebrows.
I shake my head. This can’t paint me in a good light, but Danika just leans against the counter, an amused smirk playing at her lips. Melody follows my gaze, realizing for the first time that we aren’t alone in the kitchen. “Ugh. I lost fifty dollars because of you, bitch.”
Danika grits her teeth then smiles. I think one of the reasons I like her so much is that I’ve never heard her say a mean thing about someone, even if they deserved it. She’s the kill them with kindness type. “Sorry I’m not a slut, Melody.”
“Whatever, I know Sarah told you about the bet. There’s no way anyone would turn down sex with Gunner. He’s a fucking god in bed.” Melody takes hold of my wrist and tries to pull me out of the kitchen. “Come on, we’re playing dirty spin the bottle.”
I plant my feet firmly on the tile. T
he last place I want to go is upstairs, to what we call the chambers and play that game. I’m hanging on by a thread with Danika tonight. If I get paired with anybody but her, this ship is sunk. “I don’t think so.”
Melody groans. “Since when does Logan Harris turn down an easy hook up? Is it because little Miss. Goody-two-shoes wasn’t invited? Fine, she can come too.”
“I don’t think—”
“Sounds fun,” Danika interrupts.
25
Logan
I shake my head, silently pleading with Danika not to play. There’s a reason this game is dirty. You spin the bottle and pair up with whoever it lands on—boy or girl— and if it lands in the middle of two people, you get both. After everyone has a partner or two, the moderator, usually Melody, locks everyone in a room for ten minutes. The chambers. They lock from the outside and there’s no leaving until time’s up.
“Huh. You’ll do this but not Gunner.” Melody shakes her head.
“Why do you care so much?” Danika asks, her black converse climbing the stairs in front of me.
“I don’t. I just hate losing,” Melody grabs Danika’s hand knowing I’ll follow.
Upstairs, Melody sits Danika between two guys from the football team, who eye her like she’s fresh meat. The game is by invitation only. Rarely do we get new people because Melody holds all the power. Danika being here tonight brings the game to a new level. The thought of anyone touching her makes me sick to my stomach. This sucks. I've got to do something.
“Alright,” Melody says, setting the decorated bottle in the middle of the circle. There’s twelve of us, six guys and six girls. I’m seated across from Danika, mentally calculating the amount of force I need to spin the bottle so it lands on her. Thank fuck I’m good at physics. “Who wants to go first.”
“Me.” I lean onto my knees before anyone else can grab the bottle.
I pick it up, making sure its weight hasn’t changed, then set it back on the ground. I line the bottle up with Carly, who is four people to the left of Danika, and spin. The bottle circles three times before reaching terminal velocity then slows, and finally stops on Danika. For everyone else, this is a game of luck, but for me it’s science. The one thing I’m better than Cooper at.
A few girls groan, as I stand and extend my hand to Danika. I escort her to the upstairs couch and sit beside her as we wait for everyone else to finish pairing up. When the final couple is sorted, Danika tenses beside me.
Melody jingles the bedroom keys in the air and everyone matriculates towards her like cattle to their master. “You know what time it is. Remember, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
The couples follow in a mess of a line behind Melody as she locks them two by two in their chamber. When it’s our turn, Melody glares down the hall at us. Danika stands, head held high and walks to the door Melody is waiting at. She looks calm, but I can tell with each sway of her ponytail that Danika is nervous.
Hell, I’m nervous.
“I don’t know how you did it,” Melody growls at me, “but that shit was fucked.”
Melody shoves Danika into the room and slams the door behind me. I flip the light on, assuming it’ll make Danika more comfortable, as the click of a lock signals our time has begun.
Danika wiggles the doorknob then sighs. “Who has doors that lock from the outside? What kind of medieval shit are Jake’s parents into?”
I rub the back of my neck. For the first time since losing my virginity in this game, I’m fucking nervous. “Well, that depends on who you ask. Officially they are small business owners.”
“And unofficially?” Danika asks, taking a turn around the room.
“Porn.”
She runs her fingers across the bedsheet and looks over her shoulder at me. “Shut up.”
Those butterfly lashes bat and my mouth goes dry. I lick my lips and clear my throat. “Rumor has it, this house used to be a brothel. They bought it twenty years ago, updated all the appliances and shit, but kept the kinky stuff.”
“You lie.”
“Only if what I’ve been told are lies. Jake doesn’t talk about it.”
She turns to the window and pushes the blinds open with one finger. This room looks out at the pool. At the chaos of the party. “Where is he anyway? I’d be pissed if people were having a party in my house and I wasn’t home.”
“I'm sure Jake’s around somewhere, but he doesn’t care.” He’s just happy not to be alone, but Jake’s family secrets are his to tell. And while I know Danika won’t say anything, I keep my mouth shut.
“Huh.” She says, sitting on the bed. “So what now? What would you do if I wasn’t me?”
Her big brown eyes lock on mine, the vulnerability in them undeniable and a turn on. I shrug. “Anything you’d let me do. Most girls have no inhibitions when they agree to play dirty spin the bottle.”
Someone’s cries of pleasure penetrate the wall. Danika tenses again and I can’t help but wonder how far she’s gone. I assumed California parties put our parties to shame. I mean, it’s fucking California. But right now Danika seems so innocent. So virginal. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
She sighs and lays back on the bed, the hem of her dress riding up almost to her hips. Most people wear jeans and a T-shirt to the games, but tonight Danika’s got on a short black flower-print dress that matches her shoes. I can’t help but wonder if she dressed up for me.
I walk over and sit on the bed beside her. I lean onto my side, propping myself up with one arm and brush the hair away from her cheek. “Talk to me, Danika. You were the one who told me I shouldn’t bottle my shit up. Remember?”
She rolls to face me, the warmth of her breath dancing against my skin. I stare into her eyes, fighting with myself to stay in control.
“I know. It’s just…this is too hard.”
“What is?”
“Fighting what I feel for you. It’s exhausting to pretend that I don’t like you but I’m terrified to give in.”
“Why?” Why fight anymore? She’s single. I’m single. What is holding her back?
“Because I know you’ll break my heart.”
I can’t promise she won’t cry because of me. And I can’t promise to always be there for her because a promise like that is too big, but I can promise that she’s the only one I want to try this with. I can’t be friends. I need to know what her skin feels like on mine. And once we cross this bridge, I don’t want friends with benefits. Friends share, and the thought of sharing Danika sets me on fire. I’ve already had to share her lips with Gunner and it ate me alive every time I saw them together.
No. If we’re going to do this, it’s going to be done right. But I don’t say anything. I keep my thoughts to myself because I don’t want to scare her off. Instead I cup her cheek. It feels good to touch her, all my fire and tension inside melts away. She looks up at me with those bedroom eyes, silently begging for my lips, but I wait. This is a moment I can’t get back. It needs to be savored, etched in my memory because I’ve never been so nervous to be this close to someone before.
Danika closes her eyes, growing impatient with me, and presses her mouth to mine. Her lips are as soft as petals, parting to allow my tongue in. I feel her suck in a breath, holding it, as I slip my fingers into the base of her ponytail. I slide my other hand between the mattress and her waist and pull her on top of me. Her legs straddle my waist. There’s nothing but a few thin layers of fabric between us and it’s fucking torture. I want this girl more than I’ve wanted anyone in my life.
Danika curls her fingers around my neck. Her nails press into my skin, sending a small surge of energy straight to my pants. My cock twitches and by the way her hips move against mine, I think she can feel it.
“Well, well, well.”
Danika and I hear at the same time. She pulls away and sits up, her chest excitedly rising and falling as she tries to catch her breath. I prop up on my elbows and glare.
Melody stands with her
arms crossed in the doorway. “I guess little Miss. Goody-two-shoes isn’t so innocent after all. Time’s up.”
26
Danika
Holy fireworks explosions! No, not fireworks. F-ing grenades. Fireworks are beautiful but loud, leaving their observers awestruck. Grenades shock and destroy everything in their path and I have been destroyed.
I knew kissing Logan would have an effect on me, but I wasn’t prepared for this carnal need to take over. I wanted him. Needed to feel him everywhere. Even now, as I slide off his lap, I can feel his hard length rub against my silk panties. It sends a tingle to my core I’ve never experienced before.
I smooth the wrinkles from my skirt and pull the tie from my hair. I run my finger across my scalp down to my roots, releasing what can only be called love knots. Logan threads his hand with mine and those same tingles spread up my arm and to my core again. I bite my lip, wishing I had stopped fighting my feelings sooner.
I half expect the other playmates—oh! I get it now, Gunner’s playmates—to clap when we emerge but the hallway is silent. Empty. Everyone has gone their own way, like their hookup never happened.
Melody hits me with her shoulder as I pass through the doorway and whispers, “Slut.”
I look over the banister as Logan and I descend the stairs, seeing the party with new eyes. I get it now. Everyone dancing together and making out in corners is chasing this tingling euphoria. And those who disappear into bedrooms, they’re trying to satisfy the needy ache that comes with those tingles.
Logan takes me straight to the kitchen. Just as before he gets two plastic cups and a can of soda, splitting it between us. I take a sip, but it doesn’t satisfy the new thirst I have. I set my drink on the counter and say, “Let’s dance.”
He shakes his head. “My dancing skills are strictly reserved for moonlight serenades with the girl who owns my heart. I’ll watch you though.”