One Night (Friends #0.5)

by Monica Murphy

  And then Em’s gone.

  “Hey!”

  I whirl around to find Livvy standing in front of me, a frown on her pretty face, hands resting on her hips, looking sexy as hell. “What’s up?” I ask, running a shaky hand through my hair. My entire body feels like it’s been electrocuted after what Em said to me. How she touched me.

  Did Livvy see?

  Damn, I hope not.

  She smiles, her entire face lighting up. “You wanna go hang out by the pool?”

  “Sure.” She takes my hand, her fingers linking with mine, shocking me. “You want to swim?”

  “I didn’t wear a swimsuit,” she tells me as she drags me through the living room and into the kitchen.

  “You don’t need one,” I tease and she giggles, shaking her head.

  “I’m not going skinny dipping at Tuttle’s house. That’s a setup for disaster.”

  She’s right. But just about anything we might want to do tonight could end up a setup for a disaster.

  Like it matters.

  We’re all gonna do whatever the hell we want anyway.

  *

  Sigh, Dustin. And Em. And Livvy. What a tangled web they weave! Thank you for reading and if you happen to vote/comment/share with your friends, I’d love you forever! (Seriously, I already love you all so there). Chapter 3 is now UP!!!!

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  Chapter 3 - Tuttle

  I scan the room from the top of the stairs, mentally counting all the heads I see. There has to be at least fifty people in the living room, maybe closer to seventy-five. Another summer rager at the Tuttle residence, it’s what I’m known for. Throwing epic parties filled with people who want to get close to me.

  Yet I keep them all at a distance.

  It makes them crazy. I make them crazy. And I don’t even mean to do it on purpose. It’s just the way I am.

  “Tuttle!” The screeching voice makes me wince and I brace myself as the drunken brunette stumbles up the steps, her fingers clutching the bannister so tight she’s white knuckling it. “Your house is so awesome!”

  “Thanks.” My voice is flat, my expression neutral. A ghost of a smile has them freaking out. If I know their name and say it out loud-and I do know this chick’s name, it’s Emily-they think that’s a declaration of true love and I can’t shake them for the rest of the night.

  Forget that. Love sucks. Girls suck too.

  “I mean, I’ve been here before but.” She stops directly in front of me, sounding breathless, blue eyes wide and almost unblinking. It’s kind of freaky, how she’s staring at me. “I’ve never been upstairs.”

  I raise a brow, remaining silent.

  “I’ve never seen your room either.” She smiles and reaches out, her fingers drifting across my forearm. I snatch my arm back like her touch scalded me, making her frown. “Aw, come on, Tuttle. We’ve known each other too long for you to act like this.”

  “What was your name again?” I tilt my head, examining her, my gaze roaming from the top of her head to the tips of her bright blue painted toes. Emily’s hot, there’s no denying it. But she’s also a complete wreck. She used to be sweet-kind of a goody goody, which I avoided even when I was younger. She hangs out with that girl who’s currently driving Dustin insane. They’re close friends, though it seems they’ve gone in different directions lately, at least from what I can tell.

  Not that I really pay attention.

  But hey, when a girl starts getting a reputation around school that she’ll drop to her knees without much encouragement, word gets around fast, and that’s exactly what happened with this Emily girl. I’ve heard her lips have been wrapped around plenty of dicks the last few months and honestly? I have no plans on letting her lips get anywhere near my dick.

  “Oh, give me a break. You know my name,” she murmurs, sending me a coy look. She touches me again, her fingers landing on my chest this time, and I let her. She takes this as a positive sign. A smile curls her lips and she grips the fabric of my shirt a little tighter, forcing me to back up a step. I rise above her, but she just follows, grim determination seeming to drive her on. “Where’s your room, Tuttle?”

  This chick isn’t gaining access to my room. No one does, not really. If I hook up with a girl during a party, it’s in one of the six bathrooms in this mausoleum of a house. Or in the giant screening room with the lights turned down low and the girl kneeling on the ground in front of me while a movie plays on the screen. The volume turned up so loud the ground vibrates and the girl groans while she’s got a mouthful. Where I can lose myself in the fantasy a little bit, forget my troubles, forget the bullshit and just concentrate on the sensation of her lips wrapped tight, her tongue working, her fingers, her moans…

  I shake my head once. Yeah. Not happening tonight. I’m not in the mood.

  My last resort hookup spot is outside by the pool, which is usually busy, but there’s always a girl willing to give me a hand job in the hot tub. Sometimes I don’t even ask for it…it just happens. Get a little alcohol in a girl and she’s as bold as hell, trying her best to get her hands on my junk.

  But I’ve never allowed a girl to touch my junk in my room.

  That’s my sanctuary.

  “Let’s go downstairs.” I grab hold of Emily’s arm, ready to guide her back down toward the kitchen. I’m not messing around with this one. I’m fairly certain she’s trouble, and I’m not interested in trouble. Not tonight.

  Emily goes along with me willingly, though she’s pouting, her dark hair falling in her face. She shakes it back, her eyes flashing as they meet mine and I’m impressed with the amount of black eyeliner she’s piled on around those blue eyes of hers. She kind of looks like a raccoon.

  I’m sure that’s not the look she’s going for.

  We pass by her friend-Olivia-and she gapes at us, her shock apparent as we head for the kitchen.

  “Where are you taking me? To one of the bathrooms?” Emily asks hopefully as she clutches my arm.

  “Em!” The girl’s friend yells at us and Emily whips her head around, glancing over her shoulder. “Come here!” her friend demands.

  The look Em shoots me is cool and calculating. “Just ignore her.”

  “You’re not going to talk to your friend?”

  “She’s just jealous I’m with you. She’s always wanted you.” Em waves a hand, dismissing her.

  Yeah, right. I haven’t crossed her friend’s path since that play we did together in the sixth grade when we were a married couple. Olivia or whatever her name is, is not the kind of girl I go for. Not the kind of girl I have classes with either. Meaning we rarely see each other at school.

  “She’s lusted over you for years,” Em continues, ignoring her friend as she continues to try to gain her attention.

  “Kind of like you have?” I ask her.

  She nudges me with a pointy elbow. “You’re such an arrogant ass!”

  I say nothing. What’s the point in denying it?

  “Please tell me you’re taking me to the bathroom.” Em gives my arm a quick shake, hanging on me. I’ve never seen a girl so eager to be taken to the bathroom before. It’s kind of disturbing. “I’ve been dying to hook up with you for months.”

  “I thought that was your friend’s main goal,” I remind her.

  Em waves a hand, wobbling on her feet. I grip her arm to steady her. She’s drunker than i thought. “Whatever. My goal. Her goal, it’s all the same. She likes you. I like you. Everyone likes you, Tuttle.”

  I’ve heard this before. Yes, I can be an arrogant asshole, but it’s true. Girls want me. They’ve always wanted me and I think it’s because I don’t necessarily want them. I’m not interested. Not in
the majority of these girls I go to school with. Oh, I mess around with a few of them when necessary or when I’m bored. But most of the time, I ignore them.

  It drives them bat shit crazy. It’s like that makes them want me even more, when I want nothing to do with them.

  Well. There is one who’s interested me. But we move in different worlds. We’d never work together. And I don’t think she likes me at all.

  Which of course, intrigues me even more.

  “I know what you do with girls in bathrooms at your parties,” Em is saying, giving me a sly smile. “In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m totally willing. Let’s do this. Come on.”

  I shake my head. “You’re pushy.”

  “I thought guys like it when a girl knows what she wants.”

  Not like this. “Hey, Cannon.” I grab one of the linemen on the football team, stopping him from entering the kitchen. He gives me a look, one that says he’s surprised I’m speaking to him, not that I blame him. I may be the quarterback but we don’t really talk, unless it’s out on the field or in the locker room.

  “What’s up, Tuttle?” he asks warily, his gaze shooting to Em before it returns to me.

  Cannon is a big dude, tall with broad shoulders and a wide chest, a thick neck and a big head, his dark blond hair usually clipped pretty short. He’s threatening as hell out on the field, and he’s a great football player, but I don’t think he’s real smart.

  And I can barely tolerate them when they’re not smart.

  “You know Emily, right?” I let go of her arm, giving her a slight shove toward Cannon.

  “Em,” she corrects, her voice lowering seductively. “I know exactly who you are, Cannon Whitaker.”

  “Oh, yeah?” He puffs up his chest, though how that’s impossible, I’m not sure. The guy is already as intimidating as hell. “Well, I definitely know who you are.”

  “I’m sure.” She laughs as she moves to stand by Cannon’s side, her arm going through his. “Your muscles are so big.”

  “You think?” He flexes for her and she pets his biceps, looking properly impressed.

  Shaking my head, I get the hell out of there before they try to stop me.

  *

  Ah, Tuttle. I have such mad love for him, even if he is a jerk. ;) Hope you enjoyed this chapter - more is coming soon! And if you’re so inclined to vote/comment/share, etc. I’d really appreciate it! xoxo

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  Chapter 4 - Emily

  I feel anxious. Edgy. Needy. Not that anyone seems to care. It’s like everyone is ignoring me. But I’m on a mission-I’m looking to hook up tonight. There’s no denying it, no denying me, because when I need to be, I’m a persistent bitch.

  So Dustin shot me down. So what? He’ll be easy to break once Livvy’s gone for the rest of the summer, bored out of her mind at her dad’s house. He’ll be putty in my hands within a few days of her leaving. I can almost guarantee it.

  That he doesn’t see I’ve been right there in front of him all of these years is frustrating. Dustin treats me like a friend. That’s it. He might get a little flirty, but not much. He’s too busy making eyes at Livvy, who doesn’t seem that into him at all. He’s totally missing out.

  And then there’s Tuttle. He’s impossible. I mean, I know he messes around with girls. I’ve heard plenty of rumors, though they all say the same thing-he’ll let them suck his dick, but that’s about it. He’s super selective-oh, and he’s also a selfish bastard. That’s what makes him even hotter. He’s so ridiculously gorgeous. And he acts like lord of the manor at his big fancy house with that snotty look on his perfect face. God, I hate him.

  I also want to get naked with him. At the very least, give him a BJ. But he never gives me a chance. He just literally shoved me onto Cannon Whittaker, who is undeniably hot, I’m not going to lie. But he’s not really my type. He’s just so big and muscly and…big.

  Yes. I’m repeating myself. But the boy’s bigness warrants repeating.

  “You like the guns?” Like he’s reading my mind, Cannon lifts his arms into the typical check out my muscles pose, his biceps popping. Making my eyes pop too because wow, he’s nothing but solid muscle.

  “Guns?” I briefly trail my fingers over his left arm. It’s like touching warm steel.

  “Yeah. They’re weapons.” He lifts his left arm to kiss his bicep and does the same to the right. It’s a totally cheesy move, and I’m wondering exactly how many girls has this worked on. “Weapons of mass destruction,” he tells me, his voice deadly serious.

  “Are you for real right now?” I giggle. My head is spinning a little from the shots I did earlier when I first got here. I smoked a joint in the garage before I left my house just to take the edge off, but the weed only made me anxious. Mom and Dad were inside, but I really didn’t care. My parents are such pushovers. For example, my grades were crap so they took my car away, but I knew I’d get it back. I always get my way eventually.

  They caved within a few days after taking the car away. The trick? Drive them bat shit crazy. I was such a nuisance, such a pain in the butt, always whining and stomping around the house and huffing and puffing like it was the end of the world. They absolutely hated how I was acting and finally broke down, giving me back my keys with all these conditions put on me.

  Whatever.

  I know how to push their buttons. Just like I know how to push Livvy’s and Dustin’s too. People are so easy to manipulate.

  I almost feel sorry for them.

  “You want something to drink?” Cannon flicks his head toward the kitchen and I nod, following him until we end up standing in front of the giant ice chest full of beer sitting on the floor near the fridge. He bends over and grabs a can, giving me a prime view of his muscular backside. I catch a glimpse of his underwear when his shorts fall with the movement.

  Cannon wears black Calvins. Good to know.

  He pops the beer open before handing it to me, a sweet smile curling his very sexy lips. I take the icy cold beer gratefully and drain almost half the can, catching Cannon watching me with frank admiration in his gaze.

  “You don’t hold back, do you?” he asks, sounding dazed.

  Shaking my head, I lick my lips, his gaze locked on the movement of my tongue. I almost want to laugh. Guys are so easy. So simple. Cannon is no different. “What you see is what you get,” I tell him.

  His brows shoot up. “And what do I get?”

  I step closer, resting my hand on his forearm, his skin hot beneath my fingers. “Whatever you want,” I murmur, my lips curving into a little smile when his eyes widen with surprise.

  “Em! There you are.”

  Oh. Crap. Bracing myself, I turn to face my very best friend, the girl who knows almost all of my secrets. “Livvy,” I say, my voice weak. “I didn’t know I was lost.”

  “Well, I just saw you, but you kept on walking.”

  “I was with Tuttle.” My voice lowers and I flick my head back toward Cannon. She’s going to ruin everything if she doesn’t shut up. “Why aren’t you with Dustin?” Oh man, I sound kind of snotty, but I really don’t care.

  Livvy frowns. “Why would I be with Dustin?”

  “I don’t know. Because you two can’t seem to stay away from each other?” I do my best to keep the jealousy out of my voice, but by the way she’s looking at me, I think she’s catching on.

  I’ve never admitted it to either of them, but I’m jealous of their relationship. I know they’re just friends but they also mess around with each other. And then they have the nerve to keep it from me. Like it’s their special little secret. When it comes to the three of us, I’m always on the outside looking in, and what’s worse? They de
ny they’re doing anything whenever I ask them. He denies it. She denies it.

  They’re liars.

  “You act like we’re together. But we are so not,” Livvy says vehemently. The look of faint horror on her face says it all. Does she really not want to be with Dustin? I don’t get why not. He’s a good guy. He’s her supposed best friend, besides me. Dustin is a great basketball player, he’s smart and funny and cute. Fine, hot. He’s hot. She’s stupid.

  But then again, so is he.

  “Whatever.” I flick my fingers at her, dismissing the conversation. It’s pointless. We’ll just go round and round. I have better things to do.

  Like Cannon Whittaker.

  “Who’s your friend?” Cannon asks, blatantly checking out Liv.

  Ugh. No way am I going to let him go tonight. He’s my only real prospect. “It’s just Livvy,” I tell him, my voice sweet as sugar as I wind my arm through his. I don’t bother looking at her. Maybe she’ll catch a clue and leave us alone. “Let’s go outside and check out the hot tub.”

  That’s code for us going into the hot tub so we can feel each other up beneath the bubbling water. People grope each other in Tuttle’s hot tub all the time. It doesn’t matter how many people are in there either. It’s like a free for all, which is sort of gross when you think about it.

  I seriously hope he dumps a ton of chlorine in there after his parties. Bleach would probably be better.

  “You need a good soak?” Cannon asks, grinning as we start toward the door that leads to the backyard.

  “I think we both do,” I say with a smile.

  “Em! Seriously, are you going to just leave me?”

  I glance over my shoulder, taking in the incredulous expression on my friend’s face. Livvy’s mouth is hanging open like she can’t believe I’d ditch her for a guy.

  Doesn’t she know me by now?

  We’ve grown apart this past year. I can feel it. She has to feel it. Things haven’t been the same between us since the end of last year, and I’m cool with that. But it’s like she doesn’t want to make waves.