OnlyEverYou_SDavis-eBooks

by Davis, Siobhan

  “Only with my permission,” Lopez smugly states as we start moving forward in a line. He’s at my back, whispering into my ear, annoying the fuck out of me, but I grit my teeth and stick to the plan.

  “I never ask you for anything, man, and I’ve put in the groundwork. She’s primed for the taking.” My stomach contorts in distaste, but I say what I need to.

  He chuckles, clamping a hand on my shoulder when Price isn’t looking. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.” He thinks I’m toying with her affections this whole time just to get in her pants, and I let him believe it.

  A surge of self-loathing crashes into me. While it’s not an unfamiliar feeling, Zeta’s presence in my life has been successfully keeping those emotions at bay. Even the nightmares and flashbacks have been less frequent. So, I hate that I’m betraying her trust and disrespecting her by pretending I’m only after her body. I loathe that I’m forced into playing it this way, but there’s no other choice.

  “Hey, I need to tell you something,” I whisper to Zeta later that evening as we sit beside one another on the floor in the common room. Carefully, I lean my Fender against the wall so I can give her my undivided attention.

  “Sup?” She tucks her dark hair behind both ears, peering into my eyes with obvious concern. My gaze drifts to her lush mouth, and I sit on my hands to avoid grabbing her face and sampling her lips.

  I’m fucking obsessed with this girl, and I wasn’t joking with my previous spank bank comment. She’s all I see when I close my eyes at night. It’s her lips I imagine on my heated skin, her body I imagine thrusting inside of, as I stroke my cock to powerful release.

  “Ryder?” She places her soft hand on my arm, and it takes colossal willpower not to pull her close and kiss her.

  I snap out of it, remembering why I brought this up. “I had to say some shit to Lopez today to stop him making a play for you.”

  “What kind of shit?”

  I clear my throat, scrubbing a hand over my stubbly chin. I hate telling her this, but it’s not right to keep her in the dark either, so I made myself a promise that I’d fess up. “I insinuated I was only pretending to be your friend so I could fuck you.”

  “Oh.”

  Zeta is good at masking her feelings, but I can usually see behind it, because, in a lot of ways, she’s a lot like me. My statement has upset her, and I need to make this right. “But it’s obviously a total lie, and I’d never do that to you, so you don’t need to worry.” Now she looks even more hurt, and I can’t figure out what I’ve said that’s offended her. “But I’ll need you to back me up if anyone asks.”

  She’s quiet for a moment. Then she turns to me, a muscle tensing in her jaw. “I just want to make sure I got this straight.” She narrows her eyes as she drills a piercing look at me. “You are my friend, and you’ve no interest in hooking up with me, but you want me to tell everyone we’re not friends, and we’re just fucking, if they ask?”

  I bob my head. “That’s pretty much it in a nutshell.”

  “Right. Got it.” Her tone is icy cold as she scrambles to her feet.

  I jump up. “Where you going?”

  “Back to my cell. I’ve stuff to do.”

  “What stuff?”

  “Just stuff.” She stalks off, her long legs making quick work of the room.

  I’m rooted to the spot, completely confused over what the fuck just happened. Snapping out of it, I take off after her, catching up to her just outside the room. Valeria and the other girls have her surrounded, and they’re pushing her around, taking advantage of the fact Powell and Price are in some kind of heated argument back in the common room, unaware we’ve left, and Watson is talking with someone on his walkie-talkie, his chin down, not paying attention to what’s going down out here in the hallway.

  “Back the fuck up.” I push my way in between Valeria and Zeta.

  “Oh, look, it’s lover boy to the rescue,” Valeria taunts, and Sam, Camila, and Sofia laugh, like they’re sharing some inside joke.

  “It’s such a shame,” Camila adds, stepping into me and running her hand up my chest. “Such a fucking hot body, and no clue what to do with it.”

  The girls laugh again, and Zeta steps out from behind me, taking hold of Camila’s wrist and thrusting it away. “Keep your fucking hands, and your stupid insults, to yourself.”

  “Possessive, isn’t she?” Valeria sneers at me.

  “You’d know all about that. The way you chase after Lopez is pathetic,” Zeta coolly retorts.

  “You know, you could’ve just taken me up on my offer.” Valeria ignores Zeta, pushing her chest into mine and reaching down for my cock. “I know how to show a man a good time. The offer’s always open for you, gorgeous.” I grip her wrist before her palm touches my dick, grimacing as I push it away. Zeta flinches, and I instantly step back, tugging her with me. On instinct, I take her hand, holding it firmly so she can’t let go.

  “I’m not into you, and I never will be,” I tell Valeria, and I’m playing nice by not telling her what I really think.

  Valeria laughs, as if the idea of anyone turning down her pussy is ridiculous.

  “Are you scared of pussy, or you swing the other way?” Sam asks, grinning as she roams her gaze all over me.

  “Let’s not play games.” Valeria flashes Zeta a smug look before fixing her gaze firmly on mine. “I know why you’re hesitant. I know you fed Lopez a load of bullshit he bought, but the truth is, you’re still rocking your V-card, aren’t you? There’s no shame in that, Ryder. I think it’s kinda cute.”

  “I think it’s fucking lame,” Camila says, sending me a derisory look. “There’s something clearly wrong with you.”

  “Why?” Zeta injects herself into the conversation while squeezing my hand. “Because he has enough self-respect to avoid sleeping with skanks like you?”

  “Who da fuck are you to look down your nose at me?” she barks. “And weren’t you the one who said you’d had more cock than hot dinners.”

  Zeta rolls her eyes. “If you’re going to throw shade at someone, at least remember to do it correctly.”

  “Interesting,” Valeria says, yanking Camila back. “You meant what you said literally.” A sly smile creeps over her face, and then she cracks up laughing. “Oh, this is priceless. You’re a virgin too?”

  I’m tempted to look at Zeta, to see her reaction, to know if it’s true, but I don’t want to give Valeria the satisfaction of knowing she’s right, on both counts, so I keep my gaze trained on the fiery bitch in front of me.

  “Lopez is sure gonna love that,” Sam pipes up, earning her a vicious look from Valeria.

  “No one is breathing a word to Lopez.” She shoves Sam. “Say anything to him and I’ll fucking slit your throat in your sleep.”

  Sam pales, smiling weakly. “I was only kidding.”

  “Watch it.” Valeria slants her a threatening look, and Sam meekly nods. When Valeria turns back around to us, that smug look is transparent on her face again. “I don’t give a fuck what you two are doing or pretending you’re doing. Just keep that shit to yourself, and I won’t tell him either.”

  “Deal,” Zeta answers before I can. “Now fuck off and leave us alone.”

  Valeria flips her the bird before walking in the direction of the sleeping pods. Watson leers at Valeria, openly groping her ass as he walks the girls back to their cells.

  Tension is thick in the air as Zeta and I stand silently on the spot, both of us struggling to find something to say. “Is it true?” she asks in a hushed tone a few beats later. I inwardly curse Valeria for bringing the subject up. When I don’t instantly reply, Zeta twists around so she’s in front of me. Our hands are still interlocked, and if I could glue her palm to mine, to keep her skin attached to mine, I’d do it in a heartbeat. She peers up at me through hooded eyes, a shy smile on her face. “I’m a judgment-free
zone, and I won’t think any less of you if you are or aren’t.”

  “I’ve never had sex,” I blurt as the words burst free.

  “Neither have I,” she admits with a wider smile.

  “You haven’t?” I arch a brow. “I presumed you were beating guys off left and right.”

  She giggles, her tinkling laughter filling the empty space. “Let’s not exaggerate my charms. Guys have hit on me, but it’s not like it’s a daily occurrence.”

  “Why the hell not? What’s wrong with the guys in Garden Grove? Are they fucking blind, or their balls haven’t dropped yet?”

  She laughs harder. “Oh, their balls have most definitely dropped. The guys in my school are complete horndogs, and they have sex on the brain twenty-four seven.”

  “Then how did you manage to avoid caving?”

  “It’s quite simple. I don’t want to be a notch on some douche’s bedpost or give it up in a sweaty drunken encounter at a party or a grope fest under the bleachers. I want my first time to be special. To be with someone I care about. I don’t want it to just be a physical encounter because then I’m no better than—” She abruptly cuts off, but I think I know what she was going to say.

  No better than my mom.

  I have a feeling Zeta’s mom had plenty in common with mine. The thought makes me unbearably sad, and I wish I had a time machine so I could go back and erase both our histories, forging another way for us to meet.

  “That only makes me respect you even more,” I say, letting her know I’m not going to pry. If she wants to talk about it, she knows I’m always here to listen. “And it pretty much matches how I feel.” If I wasn’t incarcerated in here, I’m sure I’d have given it up a long time ago, and despite how fucking horny I am, all the damn time, I’ve zero interest in a rushed, fleeting moment with the threat of discovery looming over us.

  I almost caved, last year, when this student intern working with Dr. Blaufeld came on to me after a session, suggesting we take a detour into the laundry room on our way back to the pods. I only turned her down because I’m afraid once I get a taste for sex I won’t be able to stop, and I’d rather choke on my own cock than fuck any of the girls in here.

  At least, that’s how I used to feel.

  With Zeta here now, it’s completely different.

  Now, I want to have sex. With her. But I still won’t.

  Because if I’m ever lucky enough to share that experience with her, it sure as hell won’t be a sweaty, rushed fuck behind the guards’ backs.

  No, if that’s ever in the cards for us, it will be outside of this place.

  Somewhere incredible so I can give us both a memory we can cherish forever.

  CHAPTER 6

  Zeta

  I turn over in the bed, my body covered in a light sheen of sweat, my sleep top and shorts sticking to my skin like adhesive. A ticklish sensation brushes up my leg, and my body spasms, almost dragging me completely from sleep. I bury my head in the pillow, my eyelids heavy with exhaustion. The sensation on my leg intensifies, creeping higher and higher, and a familiar pressure settles on my chest. Adrenaline courses through my body, and my breathing becomes labored. Behind my closed eyes, I’m slowly adjusting to reality. The pressure on my leg solidifies when it reaches my thigh, and I freeze as tendrils of fear rip up and down my spine. My heart is thumping behind my chest, and then I’m aware of the heat on my stomach and I—

  Agghhh!!

  I bolt upright, crying out as I scramble up the bed, flattening my back against the wall, my gaze darting wildly around the room.

  Slowly, my vision clears, my small cell coming into focus, and my panic starts to subside. A loud sob breaks free of my chest and I’m gasping for air. Tears stream down my face as I scan the gray block walls, cold concrete floor, stainless-steel toilet with no seat, and small sink. The only other fixture in the room is a small bedside table where I store my clothes and the few toiletries I’m permitted. It’s bolted to the floor in the windowless room. Fixating on my surroundings always helps ground me after a nightmare. Gradually, my breathing recalibrates, and I push knotted clumps of hair back off my face. Sweat glistens on my skin as I stand on wobbly legs.

  It was only a nightmare, I tell myself repeatedly, as I strip off my damp clothes, splashing water over my overheated skin. Redressing in my spare bra and underwear—the only spare clothing I have—I climb back under the covers, shivering in spite of the humidity in the room.

  The nightmares have been frequent and brutal since everything went down, but I haven’t had any for a week, and I thought they were passing, but I guess I was wrong. This was the worst one yet. Squeezing my eyes closed, I immediately see his face. I cry out again, loud, anguished sobs birthed straight from my soul. Blinking my eyes open, I curl into a fetal position as more tears sneak from my eyes.

  “Shut the fuck up, bitch!” Camila—I think—shouts, banging on the wall from the cell she shares with Sofia. “Some of us are trying to sleep.”

  I block her out, forcing my eyes to remain open as I consciously avoid sleep. Even though I suspect Dr. Reynolds will quiz me about it at my therapy session later, I’d rather endure her prying questions over another one of those nightmares.

  I can hardly keep my eyes open at breakfast, and my mouth is open in a perpetual yawn. “You look like shit,” Luc says, plopping down on the chair beside me.

  Ryder swats the back of his head. “There are much nicer ways of saying that.”

  “Like what?” he questions over a mouthful of rubbery scrambled eggs, looking perplexed.

  Ryder leans across the table, fighting a smile. “You look tired today, Zeta. Did you have trouble sleeping?”

  I burst out laughing, can’t help it, and he grins, offering me a cheeky wink before shoveling a forkful of eggs into his beautiful mouth. “You were definitely right, Luc,” I say, smiling at my only other friend. “Ryder’s got good game.”

  “All joking aside,” Ryder says, a split second later, “are you okay?” His face oozes concern, and warmth floods my chest cavity. It’s been so long since anyone cared that I’d forgotten how amazing it feels to know you’re not alone.

  I want to tell him but not here. Not in front of Luc and in earshot of the cafeteria. “I’m good. Thanks for asking.” I pin him with a look, and he nods, instantly dropping it. It’s so strange how in tune we are with one another. It constantly freaks me out but in a good way.

  “So, what’s up?” Ryder asks me when we’re in the library a couple hours later. This has become our “place.” We get an assigned half hour in the library daily, during schooltime, and most of our classmates do a snatch and grab leaving us in virtual privacy. Sometimes, a couple of the other boys loiter to read, but they barely pay us any attention. Ryder and I have had some of our best chats in this room.

  “It’s no biggie,” I start, trying to downplay it. “I just have nightmares, and it was a particularly bad one last night. I couldn’t go back to sleep.”

  “Are they random nightmares or the same recurring ones?” He takes my hand, walking us toward the small desks at the back of the room.

  I don’t think he’s noticed, but he’s been holding my hand a lot lately. Not that I’m in any way complaining. I love the feel of his big hand engulfing my smaller one, and it never fails to cause a flurry of butterflies in my chest.

  “Recurring nightmares,” I admit, sinking into the chair with an audible sigh. I slump forward on the desk, laying my head on my outstretched arms.

  “Related to previous events in your life?” he quietly asks, leaning toward me and keeping his voice low. I slowly nod. Silence envelops us for a few moments. “I get those type of nightmares too,” he whispers.

  I’m surprised he admitted that, because he’s notoriously cagey anytime anything about our pasts comes up in conversation. I won’t lie and say I’m not curious about his past. Specifica
lly, what landed him in here. But he respects my privacy, so I want to show him the same respect. Besides, there’s a teeny tiny part of me that worries I’ll think differently of him once I know. Which is stupid really, because whatever he’s done is in the past, and we all make mistakes. I know he’s a decent guy, and that’s the only thing that matters. I haven’t had a real friend since kindergarten—Mom’s rep and my stepdad’s “job” made sure of that—and I’m enjoying Ryder’s friendship too much to risk it by digging into his past. So, I let sleeping dogs lie, telling myself it’s inconsequential anyway.

  “How do you handle them?” I stifle another yawn.

  “I’ve worked out some strategies with Dr. Blaufeld. Once I have a routine, and I feel more in control of things, my mind is less troubled.” He looks up at the ceiling, and his chest heaves, almost painfully. When he lowers his head and fixes his gaze on me a few minutes later, his torment is laid bare. His willingness to expose his vulnerability to me only makes me appreciate him more. He’s trusting me in a way he doesn’t trust anyone else. Not even Luc, and those two are close. But what we share transcends that.

  “But there isn’t really anything I can do to stop them altogether,” he quietly adds. “Only manage the outcome in a more controlled way.” He rests his head on his arms, mirroring my position, and our faces are so close they are almost touching. We stare at one another with so much left unsaid, but sometimes, words are redundant, and there is more meaning in understanding without anything being verbalized. In this moment, his pain is my pain and vice versa. We don’t need to articulate it. That truth resonates between us as if we had spoken the words out loud.

  I can honestly say I have never felt more connected to another living soul than I do to Ryder in this moment.

  I’d do anything to alleviate his pain, and I know, unquestionably, that he would do the same for me.

  My eyes wander to his lips, and my heart rate kicks up a gear. I wonder what he would do if I leaned over and kissed him. Would he kiss me back or reject me? Sometimes, I think Ryder shares the same intense desire I do—a desire to push us beyond the realm of friendship into something more. Other times, he seems so casual that I’m sure he just sees me as a good friend. And, let’s be honest, in a place like this, it’s easy to latch onto someone, to indulge anything that makes it feel like less of a solitary experience, and it’s easy to make that into something it’s not.