by F N Manning
Speaking of strong emotions, a tidal wave of rage crested through me when the people around Katie and the mystery man moved enough that I saw a glimpse of a strong jaw and an inviting smirk. I knew from experience that smirk made his partner want to lick it off his face.
I was between them before I knew it. “What the hell, man?” I shoved them apart, causing the revelers around us to stumble to a halt. I was up in Max’s face before I could talk myself out of it, feeling more furious when I couldn’t keep the frown off my face. He smiled, obviously getting a thrill out of this. I wanted to wipe the smile off his stupid smug face, tackle him to the ground, and bite him… no, punch him.
The music stopped, of course, so everyone could witness this scene. Katie tried to push between us.
“God, chill out, Cal. We were just dancing,” she hissed. I felt her glaring daggers at me.
“Yeah, I saw,” I remarked dryly, chest heaving with adrenaline and anger. I couldn’t take my eyes off Max. We were like magnets; I was incapable of pulling my gaze away.
“This wasn’t the show I had in mind,” Alyssa said from somewhere over my shoulder. “But I’ll take it.”
Katie did her best to hold us apart while Max and I kept trying to get at each other. Okay, this party was filled with people from my school. I had to see these people again. I didn’t want to do this in public but couldn’t quite stand down.
“Why the hell are you here?” I hurled the words at him.
He smirked. “Dancing with my new bestie.”
“You know each other?” Katie and I asked at the same time. Okay, that was enough to jolt me to reality. I took a deep breath, idly noting Max’s strong arms, the light sheen of sweat on them, and the arousal pooling low in my belly that only made me angrier. I motioned for him to follow me and stalked off.
I understood why he’d reacted so badly to having me at his work. Worlds colliding was always uncomfortable, especially if there were secrets in one world that those in the other world couldn’t know about. I didn’t feel like empathizing with Max at the moment, so I pushed that thought away.
We ended up in a study. There were more animal heads mounted on the walls but otherwise it was similar to my father’s. All studies were the same, come to think of it. Was there some guidebook they all followed? Did they subscribe to Rich Guy, Stuffy Study Magazine? Would I be a subscriber when I got older?
I tried to hold onto these inane, safe thoughts when Max sauntered into the room after me, throwing his leather jacket on the back of a chair. Maybe this was a bad idea. All we were doing was glaring at each other again, but it felt more dangerous now that we were alone in a closed off room. He smirked like he knew what I was thinking. I wanted to murder him but first wanted to get as much pleasure from his body as possible.
“How do you two know each other?” Katie asked. I blinked at her for a moment, looking away from Max finally, surprised she followed. How did I forget about her whenever Max was in the room?
“We’re old friends,” Max told her. I didn’t know if I was imagining the emphasis he put on the word friend or not. I gritted my teeth.
“Then I’d think you wouldn’t freak out that we were dancing together, Cal.” She had her hands on her hips in that classic pissed off girlfriend pose. I saw the annoyed look on her face and knew I should be apologizing and groveling, yet my focus tipped back towards Max.
“Yeah, I’m sorry,” I said to her robotically. My emotions were warring. I wanted to seem reasonable and polite and worth another chance in front of Katie but also wanted to scream and yell and hit Max.
“You can do better,” he told Katie.
“Screw you,” I said. I didn’t know which one of us moved or if we both did but we were up in each other’s faces again. I was glad because it meant Katie couldn’t see him smirk at my words.
“Unbelievable,” she muttered. I heard the door shut behind us. Following her would feel too much like giving up in front of Max and my stupid pride won out.
“What are you doing here?” I said after several long moments, backing off finally and trying to be reasonable. It didn’t work. I wanted to throw my body on him and bruise him, get all my frustrations out with my lips and teeth and have him do the same to me.
He just smiled innocently. I felt my blood boil a few degrees hotter, which should have been impossible considering how worked up and warm I already was. “You showed up at my workplace. Maybe I wanted to return the favor.” He sneered. “Only you don’t work.” He went over to a decanter filled with dark liquid and poured himself a glass. “Oh well, I get booze and great company here.”
“You’re not even her type,” I muttered.
His eyes widened. “I’m not her type?” Max laughed. “Newsflash, she’s not my type.” He studied me. We weren’t standing right up in each other’s spaces anymore, but I wished for more distance anyway. “Tell me.” His voice was dark and seductive. “Who were you jealous of?” His hips swayed, hypnotic and lewd, as he moved towards me. “Me or her?” He took a sip of the dark alcohol as I watched the movement with rapt attention. I wanted to drink the liquid from his mouth while I marveled at the pornographic way he swallowed and his throat moved.
I sputtered and couldn’t dignity that with an answer. Worse, I wasn’t even sure I knew. “Is that really why you’re here?” Hadn’t we worked that out at the coffee shop? “Or, um,” I faltered.
Max stopped being all smoldering and sexy for a second, but damn, he still looked good even when raising an eyebrow and regarding me with wry judgement. “Yeah, I know you’re besties with my guidance counsellor now.”
“Do we still have a truce?” I asked. I still felt worked up from seeing him dance with Katie. He likely had many thoughts about the guidance counsellor incident he wasn’t sharing with me, but the magnetism between us overshadowed everything else.
“Yeah, sure.” His lips quirked up. “But I also want something else.” His voice was warm, captivating, like a roaring fire. A little bit of him could warm me up but too much would burn me to the ground. I didn’t have to ask what he wanted now. He showed me what he wanted by dragging me in for a blistering, scorching kiss.
My pulse had picked up, thundering in my ears, body feeling taut ever since I realized who was dancing with Katie. I’d been itching for a fight, action, anything and couldn’t even begin to protest his onslaught. I’d already been feeling out of my mind and crazy and needed something more than glances or words; I wanted something tangible to hold onto.
I buried one hand in his hair, ran the other up and down his back, pushing my body into his and trying to drag him closer to me even though that wasn’t possible. Our tongues tangled as lust coursed through me, invading every cell. The kiss wasn’t a fight for dominance. It wasn’t gentle but wasn’t about one of us trying to conquer. It was a performance, a show of how we each wrecked the other, each of us reveling in the battle instead of trying to win.
Max’s lips on mine were grounding, stabilizing, the only thing that made sense in the moment even as I didn’t feel more comfortable or in control of myself. I felt more unmoored than ever but thought it would be okay as long as I kept searching for solace in his mouth. He was both an answer and a question but one I didn’t know if I could solve. There were so many variables and unknowns. I’d always been a diligent student though. I wanted to apply myself to the problem.
I wasn’t sure how long we stood there pressed together but it was still too soon when he pulled away. His breath sounded as ragged as mine, he looked as wrecked as me, but he couldn’t have been because he was able to pull away.
Max stepped back and winked before he brushed past me and left. It took several moments to catch my breath. I hadn’t had any alcohol yet, but my head spun and I felt lightheaded. Just one kiss from him could make me drunk. When I sobered up, I spotted his jacket where he’d tossed it on a chair. He’d left it behind.
pəŋk-ˈti-lē-ˌō, noun.
A formality relating to etiquette customs
Cal’s reluctance stemmed more from a pəŋk-ˈti-lē-ˌō than anything else.
Chapter 6
P-U-N-C-T-I-L-I-O
Thoughts of the mind-melting kiss and our insane relationship drove me crazy for two days, so on Monday I set off to see him. I couldn’t wait until the next bee club meeting because I’d torture myself trying to figure out the best course of action: give into my feelings or in no uncertain terms spell out how nothing between us could happen again? I wanted to pick a position before I saw him as I was already afraid my resolve would waver when in close proximity if I selected the latter. Yet clarity eluded me.
Senior year was about college and preparing for my future. I couldn’t afford distractions. I couldn’t seem to resist him either.
I hoped he attended school regularly, or at least today, because I wasn’t a truant. However, even a good boy like me couldn’t resist the thought of sneaking away from school for a secret rendezvous. Not that there would be any rendezvousing! Unless he looked particularly appetizing… no.
I arrived at his school after lunch. Just because he was at school didn’t mean he or his cronies would be in class. Okay, where would the troublemakers hang out? I ventured around to the back of the school where there was a track and bleachers. A group of people congregated off to the side near the back wall of the school. I walked over to them and said, “Wow, there really is a group of people smoking behind the high school. I thought that just happened in movies.”
I took in the circle of miscreants and the joint passed between them. Could he be any more of a cliché? I unconsciously straightened my tie and hoisted my satchel bag further over my shoulder while remembering an adage about people in glass houses and how stones weren’t welcome.
Max’s eyes bugged out when he saw me in my blazer and pressed khakis while the rest of his stoner friends blinked at me like I was a hallucination who would disappear. Max recovered first. “If this was a movie,” his voice sounded a little husky from smoke inhalation, “Wouldn’t this be the part where we beat up the little rich kid who wandered off by himself?”
Okay, maybe I hadn’t thought this through. I’d never been bullied in school. Everyone at prep school knows you don’t mess with kids from influential families. Yay privilege. Now I was scared. The miscreants looked at me with hard eyes for a second while I tried not to gulp.
The guy next to Max shoved him. He had shaggy brown hair and some band t-shirt on. “We’re not going to beat you up.” A lazy grin appeared on his face. “That would be bad for business.” He took a puff of the joint in his hand, emphasizing what his business was. He beckoned me forward and offered the joint to me.
It was probably bad practice to partake in your own wares but I wasn’t going to get into it. I stared at the joint and felt eyes on me. Great, I was being peer pressured. I took it gingerly. First skipping school, now smoking. I’m becoming a delinquent too. I took a puff, not really noticing the taste or smell as I was too busy concentrating on not coughing and completely embarrassing myself.
“That’s free,” said the guy who handed me the joint. “On account of someone’s,” he looked at Max, “Poor customer service skills.”
Max rolled his eyes. “He doesn’t even go to school here, Joey.”
“Great! My business is expanding.”
A burly guy with intimidating muscles snorted. “The two pot plants you grow in your grandma’s basement don’t count as a business.” Huh, his frame was larger and heftier than Max’s. Max’s muscles only made him more appealing whereas this man’s stout frame wasn’t enticing.
“And you won’t be able to keep up with supply and demand,” someone else said, showing off vocabulary from the one day he showed up in economics.
Joey waved a hand. “Shut up, Ed. I’ll expand.” He eyed me. “You look like a very important individual. Would you know how to do that?”
“I’m not looking for new ventures right now,” I said loftily, and he nodded like that made sense. Joey wasn’t particularly buff but had a cute, carefree stoner vibe that wasn’t entirely unappealing. I liked some strength but maybe my type drifted more towards pretty boys? Oh god, what was I thinking? I blamed it on the pot. It worked fast apparently.
“What are you doing here, then?” one asked, blessedly drawing my attention away.
“I came to see my friend.” I smiled at Max and pointed to him for good measure. He tensed and I fought the urge to cackle with glee. While I hadn’t meant to embarrass him, catching him off guard amused me. Plus, what would it be like to kiss Max after he smoked? Would I get a contact high from probing my tongue into his mouth? Maybe I should buy some pot and smoke with him. Oh god, I was addicted. All it took was one puff. Marijuana really was a gateway drug!
“You two know each other?” The burly guy, Ed, sounded confused.
“They might.” Joey shrugged and made a lewd gesture with his hands. My face reddened.
Ed eyed me. “Oh, yeah.” Recognition dawned on his face. “You must be special. We never see him with the same guy twice.”
“That’s not actually how we know each other.” I stared at Max while he wouldn’t meet my eye; it was delicious. My breath came quicker, excitement racing up my spine at feeling confident while Max tensed and looked uncomfortable. No, this wasn’t a drug high. Having power over him was what made me feel on top of the world. Shit, if I was addicted, did that mean it was him I was addicted to?
Ed raised an eyebrow. “You sure? I don’t always see pretty rich boys driving sensible four door sedans.” Okay, maybe Ed had been at the party that night and hadn’t been drinking enough if he could remember details. I fidgeted, and of course, Max chose that moment to look at me. He was half trying to glare me into submission but also tilted his head and quirked an eyebrow up, half challenging me to respond to what his friend said.
Even the tips of my ears were hot. If someone saw me that night, I didn’t really have choice. Besides, they were miscreants. It’s not like I’d run into them at the country club. “Fine,” I relented. I’d just admitted to… liaisons with a guy and the world hadn’t exploded. The drugs made me reckless; I’d cling to that excuse. I would go back to being sane and straight once they wore off. I smiled jovially, plowed on. “But I knew him before that. In fact, we used to be friends.”
“No way,” one said.
Max snarled soundlessly at me as he shook his head in warning. He couldn’t intimidate me that easily. “I met him when he went to private school in Princeton.” Max’s family had lived in Princeton, the town not the university, or close to it, when I knew them.
“You went to a fancy school before you transferred into my grade?” Josh asked.
I appreciated the guys’ shocked faces and could practically see the wheels slowly turning in their brains, trying to make their weed addled minds think of the best insults to throw at Max with this new information. I drank in Max’s furious face before it went blank. Oh yeah, this was better than anything drugs could produce.
My glory was short-lived. “I’ll be right back,” Max said tightly and ushered me forcefully away.
I fought his hold on my arm as he marched me away. When my stomach squirmed pleasantly, I realized I only resisted so that I could feel his grip tighten. I let him guide me the rest of the way without protest.
When we turned the corner away from their eyes, I shrugged him off and he let me. I grinned broadly while he glowered. He leaned back against the wall, reverting to his classic ‘rebel without a care’ image that his scowl ruined, so maybe he was a rebel with a care or two. Even frowning and radiating anger, he looked sinful and delectable.
I thought he was going to punch or threaten me. He sighed instead. “There are two ways for me to read this: you trying to make some point because I crashed your party or you wanting to see me. Which is it?”
Being met with the full force of his gaze, I wasn’t sure I could admit it was the latter. It seemed too much to offer, even if he’d done the same thing. If I
said I came here to humiliate him or tell his friends his embarrassing childhood secrets, I might get beat up. Still, it almost seemed safer.
“Would it even be so bad if they knew that you used to be smart?” I asked instead of answering.
When looking close enough, there were moments where I saw the person I used to know. I remembered that spark in his eyes when he started thinking hard, that slow smile like he was hesitant to show how much he liked something. Even I was embarrassed by my 12-year-old self and I was just a slightly bigger, more confident version. Yet seeing him completely swear off his past still made me sad.
“I’m still smart,” he protested.
“Yeah, you’re the cleverest burnout.” Maybe that was it. “Is it embarrassing that you used to care?”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
I snorted. “Because I’m not ashamed to be a nerd. It’s not embarrassing.” Not if you owned it.
“Not if you’re Calvin Winthrop-Scott.” He did a ridiculous, pompous British accident when he said my name.
“You either,” I insisted,
“Whatever,” he responded.
“You sound like a petulant girl.”
He smirked. “That turn you on? Cause I ain’t into that.”
It was a dumb attempt to fluster me, so I don’t know why it worked. Maybe because my mind helpfully conjured up an image of Max in lurid red lipstick and it didn’t look as silly as it should, even with a hint of stubble on his face. Liking that mental picture, I thought of another. Max in leather and all his biker gear, straddling his bike, and no one but me knowing he was wearing a lacy pair of women’s lingerie under his clothes. My brain threatened to melt, so I forced my thoughts away. “Shut up.” That was my bright comeback. “Does your sordid spelling bee past really matter that much?”