Babydoll

  Feeling his chuckle while we were that close made me warm, like stepping in to a toasty warm house from winter cold. I couldn't stop the grin from taking over my face.

  "Fuck, yeah," he laughed. "I'd look so hot in spandex."

  The image of such a pretty boy with long wild hair strutting around in skin tight pants was too much for me. I dissolved into giggles.

  But that cuddling, laughing boy only existed in my room. The real version was currently sitting two tables over with his perfect girlfriend. I wished she had a sudden need to be placed in the witness relocation program. But it wasn’t like I could be with Lane even then. The much more formidable police officer that lived with me would still be standing in the way. Not to mention a certain best friend who would probably hate me forever.

  I looked over and saw Chad was looking at me again. I smiled instead of looking away and he smiled back.

  "I guess it wouldn't kill me to put up with him for one night," I said.

  B

  It had been overcast all evening. The rain was just starting to drizzle. I had been at my computer making playlists and burning discs for half the night. My neck was stiff and when I looked at the clock and I saw it was one already. It was getting late and I was wondering if Lane was going to show.

  I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips when I heard the window slide open. It was almost like he knew I was thinking about him. I tried to push the smile away but it wouldn’t go. I hated him knowing how excited I was to see him. That always felt like giving him the upper hand. I looked him over as he pulled himself through the window. His lip was busted. His cheek was bruised. His hands were a mess.

  "Hey," I said. I turned my attention back to dragging tracks around. I was trying to be cool but my heart was already thumping against my ribs. I had thought that being around him like this would desensitize me. It hadn’t.

  I was curious about his scraps and bruises. I wanted to ask him a million questions about where he had been, what he had been doing, and who he was doing it with but I kept my eyes on my computer screen.

  "Hey," he said. He was smiling already. He knew I was excited to see him. He probably knew I was full of questions and was biting my tongue.

  "And how are you this evening?" I asked, stealing a quick glance. He was kicking off his shoes and shedding his hoodie.

  "Fucking awesome," he said. He had sprawled out on the bed, hands behind his head. His t-shirt was tight across his chest. He looked like he could be the lead of any of my favorite bands. Delicious and dangerous.

  "The business of violence is good?" I asked, quirking an eyebrow at him. I had to ask. I couldn't help it.

  "You make me sound like a criminal, Baby-doll," he replied, with a laugh.

  "If the shoe fits," I said, with a shrug, turning back to my computer screen. It was too hard to be cool when he was lying there looking like that.

  "What if I was fighting for a good reason?" he asked.

  "What good reason is there to fight? The ability to reason with words is what separates us from the animals," I told him.

  "I love it when you philosophize," he said, with sparkling eyes. "Did you go out with Collins last night?"

  I swiveled my chair around and rolled my eyes at him.

  "I'll take conversation change for a thousand, Alex." I mocked.

  Our conversations were often like sparing and he seemed to love the quick back and forth. Probably because he always won. I went back to my computer. My eyes were back on my screen even though my mind was only on him. Then, suddenly, he was behind me, leaning over the back of my chair. He brushed my hand from the mouse and took over the navigation. He scrolled through until he found the song he was looking for. He smelled like gum and rain and Curve.

  The Eve 6 song he picked was about fighting and thinking twice before laying a hand on his girl. Before I could ponder the song too deeply he moved back to the bed to lie down. I was a little relived and a little disappointed at the same time. Every time he invaded my space, I wanted him to stay there.

  "So your girl, huh?" I asked.

  I didn’t look at him. I hated that he brought her up. I didn’t want her there, in my room. In my room it was supposed to be just him and me.

  "Did you go out with Collins?" he asked, again.

  "Yeah," I said, without adding anything else.

  I was starting to feel sullen. I didn’t want Chad there in my room either. I didn’t understand why he was bringing everyone else into our place.

  "Did you fuck him?" Lane asked.

  I whipped around.

  "What?" I demanded, my eyes wide and shocked.

  He looked me squarely in the eyes. He looked slightly amused.

  "Did you fuck him?" he asked again. He clearly enunciated each word.

  "Wha..why are you asking that?" I stuttered. He knew I was too thrown off by the question to address how infuriating he was being.

  "You didn't, did you?" he asked, with a knowing grin.

  "No, I didn't," I huffed. I realized he had no intention of answering me until I answered him. "Now, what the fuck, Lane?"

  "He was out at the beach tonight. He made some comments about how you “used to be sweet, virgin Sweeten”. I didn't appreciate that," as he told me this, his eyes narrowed and his familiar smirk didn’t look so familiar. Right then he looked just a little sinister and scary.

  "So, he's running around telling everyone he fucked me?" I cried.

  I felt like I was processing the information so slowly. How did one mediocre date with Chad Collins, where I followed him around a party while he hung out with his friends, turn into us having sex? That was crazy talk. Then two and two came together for me that on that night Lane's bumps and bruises were because of me. He had fought for me again.

  "Don't worry, he won't be running his mouth anymore. I doubt he can even open his mouth," Lane said.

  "Will you get in trouble?" I asked.

  "What's he going to do, go file a complaint? Yes, officer Sweeten I was running my mouth about how I fucked your daughter and Lane shut it for me," he laughed, bitterly. "Don't see it happening."

  I sat for a moment, just turning everything over in my head then I climbed out of my chair and moved over beside him. I sat up on my knees so I could look down at him. His face was too pretty to be bruised. To be bruised for me. I wished I could fix it. I reached and touched the purple on his cheek, softly, as not to hurt him. It might have been my imagination but I swear he shivered just a little. He closed his eyes. He breathed in deep. Then he did something I didn’t expect. He turned his face and pressed his lips to the inside of my palm.

  I felt the rhythm of my heart speed up so fast. His soft lips were still on my hand and I wondered if he could hear the drumbeat in my chest. When he pulled away he opened his eyes and they were darkest blue. Static took over in my head. Any ordered, rational thoughts were chaos. Before I could over think I leaned down and I pressed my lips to his.

  There was a couple of seconds where he didn’t react. Just enough time for me to panic and think I screwed it all up. Then he groaned and his hands were in my hair. He was immediately controlling the kiss I started, his tongue slipping over my lips. His kiss was insistent and aggressive. I was a swimmer caught in a tide, being pulled under. He shifted over on top of me so quick I don't even see it coming.

  I couldn’t keep my hands still. They were on his back and his arms and his neck. I ran my fingers through his hair. We were both breathing hard and my pulse was pounding my ears. Or it might have been my heart beat I was hearing. Or maybe it was his. Then he stopped.

  "Baby-doll," he whispered, looking at me with the sweetest kind of reverence. Then his lips were on mine again.

  I was lost in his mouth and his scent and the feel of him. I never knew how fascinating kissing could be.

  * * *

  Chapter 14

  * * *

  The sound of the window opening and a boy creeping through it pulled me out of rocky rest. I groaned
sleepily.

  "Why are you here?" I asked the sleep disrupting culprit.

  I rubbed balled up fists into my eyes. I was grumpy because I had been staying up too late thinking about my life choices. Mainly, the choice to let this crazy-eyed devil in my room. One simple choice that made me a bad friend, a bad child, and the other woman. Pretty much scum of the earth. There was also the fact that the catalyst for my downfall hadn’t actually spoken to me in two days. Since the make-out session that made our borderline inappropriate visits completely inappropriate. Heavy stuff. Way too heavy to deal with when I was out of smoke.

  "Because I wanted to talk to you," he said smiling and dropping into my desk chair.

  "Unlike the last two days," I huffed. "Why don't you talk to your girlfriend?"

  "Because," he repeated, grinning, as he spun the chair in a lazy circle. "I want to talk to you."

  "You could have talked to me at school today. You could have called me yesterday," I said. I drug my knees up and rested my chin on them.

  "I could had," he agreed, amicably.

  I just stared at him. His indifference was making me insane and he probably knew it. He probably even knew I had been waging war with myself since I woke up with the scent of his cologne on my pillows, feeling both thrilled and guilty.

  "I wanted to give you some time to think about things," he said.

  "Two days to think about making out?" I asked.

  He smirked.

  "You've been thinking about kissing me for two days?" he asked. That smile was dangerous.

  I felt my cheeks burn.

  "Shut up," I said, rolling my eyes. I had. Along with all the bad, heavy parts I had been thinking about the good parts to. The part where his mouth felt so good on mine. His tongue had darted over my lips and teased mine with more precision than a boy should ever have. The part where his skillful fingers sent shock waves to my core when he traced patterns on my skin under my shirt. The amazing part when I nearly exploded when he lay above me and hooked my leg around his waist, rocking his hardness against my softness. That slow, steady rocking that almost got me there… that would had gotten me there had headlights not splashed across the front of the house alerting us that my dad was home. Instead of drowsy completion I was left with delicious, achy longing as he made a stealthy get-away. Thinking about it I could feel my heart pick up pace. I pushed all of those thoughts away. The heavy stuff was more important.

  "I figured you may need some time to think about what you want to do," he said.

  "What I want to do? Why am I the decision maker?" I asked, wrinkling my brow.

  His eyes narrowed.

  "Because you kissed me," he said. I opened my mouth to reply about how he seemed to like it and how he had started all this by climbing my damn window. He stopped me with a shake of his head. "Because you have a daddy you don't want to disappoint and you have my little sister you have to answer to."

  I sighed and closed my eyes and buried my head in the soft blanket across my knees. I knew he was right. I was the one with all the skin to lose. But there was one other thing. I faced him again.

  "You have a girlfriend," I reminded him.

  He smiled.

  "I have a girlfriend who just wants to date a delinquent so she can get a rise out of her parents. You want me to not have a girlfriend, Baby-doll? I can get rid of her right now," he said, fishing his phone out of his pocket. "All you had to do is say the word."

  "Lane," I began, shaking my head, but my words just trail off.

  I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want him to have a girlfriend. Especially, a picture perfect ice-princess I could never compare to. I didn’t want to be side chick. I didn’t want to feel guilty. But that was the catch. Even if he didn't have his girl, there was still no way for us to be together. At least, there wasn’t until I figured out a way to make my dad believe that Lane wasn’t the common criminal he had been made out to be. At least I didn’t think he was.

  "Whatever you want, Baby-doll," he said, moving toward the bed.

  I sighed again and got kind of lost when the moonlight seemed to make his skin glow.

  "I want to kiss you," I said, reaching for his hand and pulling him to me.

  B

  "I heard she was fucking some college guy and Lane busted her," Haley said, with an excited grin.

  I had heard so many speculations I lost count of all the different theories. But the only truth, as far as everyone knew, was that Lane and Allyson were over.

  I shrugged at Haley and smiled on the inside as I chowed down on my burger. It was lunch time and the chatter had been non-stop all day. It had been hard, but I had managed to silence that little voice that knew the whole truth. That little voice was super smug and it wanted to scream "he did it for me" from the rafters. It wasn’t the time for that yet.

  It had taken a month and a half but I had finally told Lane I wanted him all to myself.

  It was my birthday and the most perfect charm was dangling from my charm bracelet. A leaning tower. Courtesy of Lane Campbell.

  "Until you get there," he explained, with a soft smile.

  That was all the invitation I had needed to crawl into his lap and kiss those perfect lips. Sweet kisses evolved into desperate touches. I broke my unspoken rule to keep my clothes on until we were really together. I had told myself until he was a single man I wouldn't go any farther than kissing and clothes on touching. Because that made me feel less bad. Because I was delusional. But that sweet, best birthday present prompted me to wiggle out of my sleep shirt so I could lay my bare chest against his.

  "Whoa, baby," he said, pushing me back so that I sat up.

  I looked at him curiously. I felt pretty exposed, sitting straddle with his hips between my thighs and my boobs on full display. I wanted to go back to laying close and kissing.

  "Slow down," he said. I could hear him trying to slow his breath.

  "What? Why? What's wrong?" I asked.

  "Nothing's…. wrong… you… we’re just moving a little fast here," he said.

  I could feel the "what the fuck" look on my face. Lane was telling me I was moving fast. The boy that had been swinging his dick all over town.

  "Fast for you, Baby-doll. You said you wanted to take shit slow until we're together or whatever," he reminded me.

  I huffed out a sigh and crawled off him. I snatched my tank top off the floor and pulled it back on. I sat next to him close, but not touching.

  "You’re mad?" he asked me, face full of disbelief. "I do the right thing and hold you to your word and you’re mad?"

  I rolled my eyes.

  "I know what I said, Lane," I told him. "I was in the moment. I didn't care."

  "That’s the problem," he muttered.

  "What's that supposed to mean?" I asked. I was only talking about my “not going too far” rule but he clearly had something else on his mind.

  "What you care about changes from day to day. One day it's 'I don't care what my dad thinks' and 'I don't care if Lucy gets mad' and the next day it's 'they're going to be so mad we've been lying'. Maybe you could make a calendar and write down how you’re going to feel each day so I know what role I'm supposed to play," he snapped.

  I couldn't meet his eyes. He was right, after all. I just felt so mixed up and conflicted. Part of me knew that the kissing without worrying and playing keep away from reality we were doing would have to end eventually. We would have to do the grown up thing and tell the truth and face the consequences. But a louder and stronger part just wanted to keep pretending. To keep kissing. To keep our secret. I didn't consider that he might have some feelings on the subject.

  "You don't have to play any role," I said quietly.

  "Sure I do," he said, with a humorless chuckle and a dark smile. "I'm the late night cuddly buddy. The dirty little secret you’re keeping from daddy. That about right?"

  I felt tears stinging my eyes. His words hurt. But it hurt worse knowing I made him feel that way.

  "I'
m sorry," I said, as warm salt spilled over my lower lids.

  "Shit," he cursed, running a rough hand through his hair. He shook his head, seeming to shake off his anger, and put his arm around my shoulders, pulling me in tight. "I'm sorry. I'm being a fucking drama queen. I didn't mean to push you, Baby-doll. This situation is fucked. I should have showed up on your doorstep instead of crawling through your window."

  I snuggled my cheek against his bare chest.

  "I'll tell everybody if you want," I told him. The thought of him giving up on us was too much to stomach. "My dad will probably put bars on my window but we could figure something out."

  His laugh was more genuine and less snarky.

  "Stop, Baby-doll, don't alert the police," he said, giving me another squeeze. "We'll figure shit out first."

  "But will you do something for me?" I asked.

  "Anything," he replied, immediately.

  "Be with just me," I whispered, turning my mouth to his chest and pressing a kiss there.

  I felt his lips on the top of my head.

  "Done."

  B

  "You certainly set shit on fire around here," Haley remarked to my secret partner as he dropped down into the seat next to me.

  He was wearing his usual smirk when I turned to look at him. He dropped a wink at me. In that moment he was so sexy I wanted to drag him into a janitor’s closet and kiss him until my mouth hurt. He shrugged.

  "Gotta keep it interesting," he said.

  "So," my best friend, prodded. "What happened?"

  Lane’s smirk never faltered.

  "We broke up," he told her, nonchalantly.

  "Well no shit," she replied, with an eye roll. "Is she a closet slut? Did you catch her in a three-way or some shit?"

  Lane laughed and shook his head. He dropped his arm around the back of my chair.

  "Nah, I just figure since Miss Bailey Baby-doll is all grown up now, maybe she'll give me a chance," he said cutting his eyes down to my ever so slightly low cut shirt.

  Haley snorted laughter as my cheeks turned pink.

  "Sure, that'll happen," she said. "But seriously, who's next? Half the sophomore class is dying to suck your dick."