by Ella Fields
I tossed my phone, and it landed on my nightstand with a clatter as I stalked to my bathroom.
If he wanted to play games, he’d get a game.
I dressed in a skintight red dress, paired it with sheer black thigh-highs, then stepped into my black heeled boots. Red lipstick would probably have been too much, but after I shouldered on my faux fur shrug, I put it on anyway.
Familiar with my eccentric fashion choices over the years, my parents said nothing about my ensemble. Though my father did say that I might get cold. I’d merely shrugged, wanting to tell him that I was used to the cold by now.
They arrived five minutes before we were due to sit down and eat.
No one cared about their tardiness, especially not me when I caught sight of Callum. Dressed in black slacks and a button-down blue shirt, he was ever the good son when requested of him. The top two buttons were undone, exposing a tantalizing taste of his sun-bronzed skin. I’d learned long ago that hours of training helped him maintain a year-round tan.
As everyone else exchanged greetings, he stalked toward me, his steps faltering as his eyes roamed my body.
My lips tilted, and my blood ignited when I realized I could touch him. I could touch him, and he couldn’t stop me. Not here, and not after we’d both agreed to this.
It seemed he’d realized my thoughts a second before I pounced, his jaw clenching before he forced his most aristocratic smile into place. “Mouse,” he breathed the word as my hands slid up his chest and righted his already straight collar.
I didn’t even say hello, just grinned, watching his eyes narrow before I lifted to my toes and caught his full bottom lip between mine. He stiffened beneath my hands, then his own moved to my waist, holding me.
He was holding me. I wanted to sing it to the world, but instead, I gently moved my lips over his, wiping at them afterward to remove lipstick that wasn’t there.
Our mothers were cackling over something, our fathers busy talking as they walked farther into the house. I took his hand. “Come, I have something for you.”
“You really shouldn’t have,” he said between his teeth as I stopped in the sitting room and knelt beneath the gigantic tree, making sure he got a nice view of my behind.
“I wanted to,” I said, honesty coating my words as I handed his present to him. “It’s actually your birthday present. You never opened it.” His brows drew together as he watched me, but I smiled and nodded at it. “Go on, there’s no spiders. Promise.”
He huffed, lifting the lid and peering inside to the stack of comic books I’d been collecting since last Christmas.
“Renee,” he said, shutting the lid without even looking at them properly.
“What? Are they the wrong ones?” I’d done that in the past, as my knowledge of DC and Marvel only extended so far.
He shook his head, then turned, tossing the box on the couch before leaving the room.
My breath hitched as I looked at the discarded royal blue box and its gingham ribbon, the lid knocked off to the side from the impact.
I moved to the couch when I thought I had my emotions under control. Placing the lid back on, I took the box to my room where I took a few minutes to fan my face and remind myself that I’d be okay.
It was a stupid idea, anyway. I should’ve just thrown them out. As we’d gotten older, and he had the means to buy whatever he wanted, he started caring less about presents.
I couldn’t seem to get enough air into my lungs as we all sat down for lunch, our parents smiling and joking while I toyed with my food.
When everyone was almost done, Callum’s foot nudged mine beneath the table. I looked up, hoping my expression was blank.
“Eat,” he mouthed, eyeing my food and then our parents.
Right. Couldn’t have anyone asking questions.
I ate. The tender meat and slippery salad felt as though it’d get stuck in my throat from trying to force it down. I took small, measured sips of water, trying to wash them down.
“Callum says you two have one of the best places on campus,” Kian said, shoving a forkful of salad into his mouth and chewing as he waited for my response.
I took another sip of water to buy myself time. “We do, yes.” I glanced at Callum, who was staring intently at his food. “You can see most of Gray Springs from the floor-to-ceiling windows that surround half the apartment.”
Kian smiled at me, then at his son, nodding. “We’ll have to visit. God, how time gets away from us. Before we know it, you’ll be seniors, and we’ll still be saying we need to visit.”
I could see the panic in Callum’s eyes as his head rose, but the rest of his face stayed neutral.
“We’d love to have you,” I said, then changed the subject to the firm. “The new offices are still going well?”
“Oh, yes,” Kian said, glancing at my father, who nodded, looking pleased that I’d asked.
“The one in Germany?”
My dad beamed. “Indeed, that one took a while to establish. But it’s turning more than it’s losing now.”
I smiled, listening as he and Kian continued to tell me about the new software they’d incorporated, and their dreams of one day being able to step away a little more. The glances they shot Callum, especially Kian, couldn’t be ignored. Yet Callum stayed quiet, resolute in his nonchalance. Or so he’d like them to believe.
“What are you two doing over the rest of break, then?” Mom asked, eyes swinging back and forth between me and Callum.
“Um,” I started.
“We’re kind of tired from finals, so we might spend a night or two here, then head back to rest.”
“Already?” Lucinda’s hand went to her pearls as she set her glass of wine down. “You need to stay a few days longer. We’ve missed you.”
“Football,” I said, rolling my eyes playfully. “Training starts back up in a few days. They don’t give them a lot of downtime at Gray Springs.”
My father nodded while Callum’s shot him a look of disapproval. He ignored them as he set that dark gaze on me.
I looked down at my plate. “I’m beat. May I please be excused? I think I’m going to go read something mindless for a while.”
My father waved his hand, my mother smiling when she saw Callum rise from the table too.
We both left the dining room to the sound of their hushed voices and then laughter.
“You’re a fantastic liar.”
At his cutting words, I paused halfway up the stairs, about to say something, then snapped my mouth shut.
He followed me into my room, the door closing behind him. “What, cat got your tongue?”
“No one has my tongue,” I said, pulling off my shrug before taking a seat at my desk to unzip my boots.
“Uh-huh.” Callum walked over to my bed, looking as though he was contemplating lying down on it, then started pacing the rug instead.
“You can go, you know.”
“Really? And have them think I didn’t want to see you? They might be self-indulged, but they’re not fools.”
I tugged my boots off. “Whatever. Use the back entrance and call a cab. I thought there’d be some people you might want to visit.”
Feet pausing on the rug, he grinned at me. “Ah, so now you bring it up.”
“When else was I supposed to?” I asked, standing. “All you do is ignore me, acting like I don’t exist when we both know you feel differently.”
Callum scratched at his head, a quiet laugh whispering out of him. “You think it’s a game?”
“It’s not?” I stepped closer, slowly, making sure his eyes caught every movement I made.
“You cheated on me, and we broke up. I can do whomever I want.”
My throat closed over. I swallowed harshly and blinked, a smile moving into place. “That’s fine.”
He squinted, hands sliding into his pockets. “It’s fine, is it?”
My finger found a button on his shirt, toying with it before dragging down his chest. “We both know wha
t you’re doing.”
A hoarse laugh erupted from him. “Yes, fucking other women.” I flinched, and he caught my wrist. “Oh, no.” He feigned a distressed look that contradicted his scathing voice. “Does that sting? Does it make your conniving bitch heart shrivel up even more inside your chest?”
His ire, his arrogance—it tinged the very air I struggled to breathe as I stood before him, unwilling to cower. Staring up at him, I fluttered my lashes. “Does it help? Fucking them? Or do you still think of me?” At his smirk, I continued softly, “Do you think of me every time you’re with them? When your eyes shut at night and you get the urge to slide your hand over and around your cock?”
He clucked his tongue, voice layered in warning. “Careful, Mini Mouse.”
My fingers curled, hearing the nickname. “Why?”
His eyes looked black as his jaw worked. “Because otherwise, I might just tell you how they moan over said cock.” His head lowered, warm breath stirring my hair. “How they clench tight around it when they come, whimpering like addicts chasing a high.”
My eyes shut, my voice a wisp. “Callum.”
“Though none of their cunts feel as wet, feel as tight, feel as fucking perfect as yours.”
Air flew into my lungs, and I exhaled raggedly before turning my head, our lips a breath apart. “You …?”
“No.” His chuckle was dark, sinister. “I don’t want you, but I could have you if I did. Isn’t that right?”
“Go to hell,” I whispered, my heart sinking.
“Already been there. It’s not as bad as people say it is once you learn how to survive.” He pressed his lips to my cheek, inhaling deeply before dropping my wrist.
The door opened soundlessly, and then he was gone, his footsteps fading as he no doubt used the back entrance to leave.
After suffering through lunch the day after Christmas, I made my escape as soon as the cutlery hit the empty plates. My parents didn’t ask questions, and I’d have been alarmed at how self-absorbed they really were if I didn’t notice my dad eyeing me as I darted up from the table as soon as Renee’s foot brushed mine beneath it.
The weeks stumbled by, gusts of biting January wind singed my cheeks as I pushed myself harder at training, curled into myself tighter when alone, and said nothing about how I really felt to anyone.
Valentine’s Day arrived, and with it, a slew of smiles and wandering hands.
My brain urged my cock to life, to quit this weird hibernation it’d forced me into since Renee handed me those comic books at Christmastime. Since she said those fucking words that haunted me.
Do you think of me every time you’re with them?
And I hadn’t until she’d cursed me. They were an escape. All of them. A way to shut off my thoughts for a few hours and get a little fucking reprieve from the agony in my chest. The one that grew worse every time I locked eyes on those green ones or saw a flash of red hair.
Or had to look at my so-called friend.
“Welsh, wait up,” Toby’s voice sounded behind me.
Stopping outside my apartment building, I whirled around on the sidewalk as Toby tossed a coffee cup into a trash can and jogged over.
“Knew you lived in the fancy one, but the penthouse?” His eyes lit. “I won’t believe it till I see it.”
I sighed, shifting my bag over my shoulder. “Not in the mood. I have shit to do.”
He eyed me. “Oh yeah, like pretend you’re over your girlfriend while secretly jerking your gherkin over a pair of her panties that you keep hidden in your sock drawer?”
I felt my eyes bulge before I quickly plastered an annoyed scowl on my face. “Whatever.”
He followed me inside, our sneakers squeaking over the recently polished tiles.
In the elevator, I jabbed the button and held my key against the security scanner until the red light flashed. Toby whistled, but otherwise stayed quiet until we’d reached my apartment.
“Holy shit, dude.” His arms swung wide at his sides as he walked into the living area, his gym bag falling to the floor with a thump. “You live like a motherfucking king.”
“Uh-huh,” I said, leaving my bag in the small foyer and heading to the fridge. “Soda? Juice? Water?”
“Water, thanks.”
I got the jug out, pouring us two glasses as Toby perused the apartment. I tilted my glass back, swallowing the lot in three mouthfuls before putting the jug I’d usually just drink straight out of back into the fridge.
I’d gotten used to being here on my own, and Sally, a cleaner who I’d recently discovered liked giving head, came twice a week. Usually on my fingers after she dumped her cleaning shit at the door.
She never let me fuck her, which was strange, but given my hot and cold relationship with my equipment as of late, it was probably for the best. There’s nothing worse than not being able to get it up during sex. Especially when lips move faster than the speed of light. After one rather embarrassing incident, which I’d thankfully been able to pass off as being too drunk, I’d found it easier to feed myself lies via the form of hot mouths instead of foreign bodies.
I’d give up chasing the escape for a while if it weren’t for the fact that it’d give Renee what she wanted. And she clearly didn’t care about what I’d wanted when she’d opened her—
“I don’t know if we can be friends anymore, man.”
Thankful for the distraction, I left the kitchen to find Toby in the hall where I handed him his glass.
“Don’t break my heart. You know it’s sensitive.”
He chuckled, gesturing to the framed poster of the Joker used in cinemas back in the eighties. “DC,” he tsked, stabbing a finger at his chest. “Marvel man, right here.”
My brows crinkled as I stepped back, kind of stupefied. Toby always gave off an air that said he didn’t give a shit, the kind of guy girls knew was bad news with just a look at him.
This, however, was unexpected. “Well, well.” I cracked my knuckles, backing up to my bedroom. “I’ve got something for you then, ex-friend.”
I walked into my closet, ignoring the fact it was more than half empty, and opened the bottom drawer of a small chest of drawers.
What I saw when I opened it made my heart freeze.
An old photo of Renee from when we’d first started dating, her eyes bright as she smiled at the phone I was holding.
“She’s beautiful, but I’m not looking to be on the receiving end of your death glares.”
I pushed the photo away, clearing my throat as I grabbed the stack of comics beneath it.
Rising, I handed them to him. “Here, you can have them.”
Toby’s mouth snapped open, then shut a few times, eyes blinking down at the stack. “I can’t take these.” His gaze met mine. “They’re worth a fortune.”
“So sell them. I honestly don’t care.”
Renee had gotten them for me before she’d learned the difference between Marvel and DC.
“Sacrilege.” Toby shook his head. “You can’t sell these. They’re priceless artifacts.”
I laughed a real, honest to God laugh. And man, did it feel good.
Toby was watching me as we stepped back out into the living room. “You okay?”
I slumped onto my couch, grabbing the remote from the arm and flicking the TV on. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
Toby hummed, carefully situating the comics on the coffee table before taking a seat on the opposite end. “I’m just saying, if it were my girlfriend who fucked up like that, I’d probably still be pretty messed up, too.”
Wife. No one knew the extent of what we were, and somehow that made it so much harder to camouflage how I felt. “It was months ago. I’ve moved on.”
“Fucking chicks is great.” He stretched his legs out, crossing his ankles as I settled on ESPN. “But all anyone has to do is see the way you look at Mike, like you still want to kill him, and know that you haven’t actually moved on.”
I barely refrained from gritting my teeth. “There�
��s no other way I can look at him.”
He scoffed. “If you don’t love her, then yeah, us guys are usually pretty good at getting over shit like that when no feelings are involved.”
“If you say so.”
Toby’s feet swung side to side as he rubbed his brow. “You do know he said he didn’t do anything?”
I twisted my head back. “Seriously?”
Toby nodded. “That’s what he’s told us.” He paused, meeting my gaze. “But he hasn’t told you that.”
“Quite the fucking opposite, not that it’d matter anyway.” I turned back to the TV, pondering, trying to figure out why …
Toby beat me to it. “Probably so the rest of us don’t alienate him any further than we already have.”
The lingering anger roared, threatening to choke me if I opened my mouth again. So I didn’t. Half an hour flew by, the game coming to an end as my eyes started to drift closed.
“I’ll see myself out.” Toby stood, grabbing the comic books. “And for what it’s worth, you’re allowed to be pissed about it still. I know I would be.” He opened the door. “But maybe, if you can’t let go, things can be fixed.”
The door shut, trapping his words inside my apartment where they tormented me.
What she’d done was unfixable, not to mention what I’d done since then.
Something as broken as we were … there was no repairing that.
Summer arrived, and with it, a whole new appreciation for soft pinks and creamy lilacs.
I double-checked my reflection, righting my cream dress before slipping on my lavender sandals.
After everything that’d happened, I was ridiculously behind with school and had spent the past few months holed up in my dorm room or the library, trying to catch up and make sure I didn’t flunk finals. I couldn’t allow that to happen if I wanted to veer in a different direction in the new school year.
My bedroom door opened, and my mother waltzed inside with a gasp. “I want that dress.”
“You’ll have to wait. I need it today.”
Her nail tapped her chin before she held her finger up. “Wait.”
Walking inside my closet to my coat rack, she pulled one of my white scarves free.