Inferno Anthology

by Gow, Kailin

  “Sorry—TMI, I know.” I shake my head. “But I haven’t been able to get one ounce of studying done in that room.” Mostly it’s Bryson’s fault because I can’t stop thinking about him. He’s become my singular obsession like no other boy has, and, now, I’m going to have breakfast with his mouthwatering abs.

  “You don’t need to apologize—especially when you’ve done absolutely nothing wrong. Jeanie’s the one who should say she’s sorry.”

  I glance down at my lavender flip-flops, my questionable level of dress, considering I’m wearing the tiny cotton shorts I slept in and a WB sweatshirt.

  Maybe I shouldn’t care that Jeanie Waters is having marathon sex. Maybe I should be running from Cole’s apartment because of the very same reason. Listening to Cole satisfy his jock itch is just as bad.

  “Sometimes I wonder if coming here was nothing but a big mistake.”

  “Hey.” He wraps his arm around my shoulders, and my entire body demands to mold to his, so I do. “I’m glad you’re here.” Bryson smells like soap, mountain fresh with a hint of mint. I glance up at him as his eyes pull along my features slowly with a strangled angst that I can’t quite categorize. “Laney was pretty darn glad you were here last week to help out, too. Speaking of which, are you up for catching some hours tonight? I’m working at the Sky Bar. Same drill, less skill.” He twists his lips, and my stomach pinches with heat. God knows I don’t have any skills when it comes to the opposite gender, but I’d love for him to teach me.

  “Yes.” I practically accost him in the process by wrapping my arms around him tight. “I mean”—I take a step back, trying to play it cool—“that’s totally fine.”

  “Great. Now let’s get to the task of nourishing you so you can last until three in the morning.” His arm slinks down to my waist and leaves a line of fire in its wake. “Oh”—he puts his hands in the air like a thief—“sorry.”

  A bus hisses down the street, and my hair flies up like a thousand little snakes from the gust of wind, but I can’t break my gaze from Bryson and those gorgeous pebble blue eyes. A smile tugs at his lips, but he won’t give it and my heart wrenches.

  “I’m not sorry,” it comes out barely a whisper. I’m sure he didn’t hear, but a part of me wishes he did—that he wasn’t sorry either.

  “You want to go for a ride?” He motions to the sea of bicycles tethered to the front of the building. “I mean, I know you mentioned your dad rode, and I totally get it if you don’t want to, I just thought—” Bryson lets his words hang in the air. He runs his tongue over his lips, quick as lightning, as if he didn’t know what else to do with himself. My arms beg to fit themselves around his body. He’s watching me again in that deep knowable way that suggests he’s peeling back my skin to see what’s really underneath, and my face burns with heat.

  “I’d love to go for a ride. In fact, that’s exactly what I’m saving my tips for—a shiny new bike.” My throat goes dry, so I clear it. “Well, maybe not so shiny since it’ll most likely come from the nearest thrift shop, but it’ll be new to me.”

  “You may not have to save as much as you think.” He breaks out in a slow-spreading grin and leads me over to a pair of bikes, before unleashing them both from their chains.

  “Why do I get the feeling I’m going to have all of Alphi Chi after me for bike theft?”

  “You won’t.” He tweaks his brows like he’s flirting, and my insides do a cartwheel. “It’s your brother’s. He hardly uses it. He prefers his penny board when it comes to cruising campus. Besides, if he reports it missing, you won’t do much time behind bars—three, four months tops.”

  “Nice.” I smack him over the shoulder. “Bike theft, huh? I had a feeling you were a bad boy.” My eyes widen as he pauses to look at me, and for a second I think I’ve crossed some invisible line.

  “I am a bad boy.” He hops on his bike, and I do the same. “That’s exactly why you should stay far, far away from me.” His chin dips, his eyes cloud over like maybe he means it.

  “Be quiet and feed me.” I laugh as he leads the way.

  We peddle out past the university, past the row of Greek mansions with their boxy chic exteriors, their well-manicured lawns, and over to a rundown strip mall that’s badly in need of a paint job.

  Bryson points over to a donut shop, and I give an eager nod because everyone knows that donuts and coffee are the breakfast of champions.

  “You mind if I run in and grab it to go?” He gives a sheepish smile as he climbs off his bike. “There’s someplace I’d like to take you.”

  “Not at all.” My heart thumps at the thought of where this mysterious place might be. And by “take you” I’m hoping he means sexually. Bryson has girls for breakfast lunch, and dinner, I don’t see why I should be off the menu. If those tally marks attest to anything it’s that his penis isn’t all that picky.

  “Any requests?”

  “Chocolate,” I shout as he starts to head in. “Oh—and throw in a jelly filled!” I should have said cream filled and got his wheels turning.

  A rise of heat filters through me as I give a casual nod, but everything about this feels anything but casual. God—it actually feels like a date. I should write Jeanie a thank you note—or, more specifically, her insatiable vagina, although I doubt either of them would know who sent it.

  Bryson reappears in record time, and I follow him out as a soft haze fills the streets.

  A sign appears that reads, Welcome to Hollow Brook as the city turns decidedly rural, and strip malls are replaced with dense emerald pines. The air cools as we ride to higher elevations. My thighs called it quits about ten minutes ago, but my lips won’t let the protest fly as I soldier on right behind Bryson.

  He pulls us off onto a dirt path, and we head into a clearing that opens to a cloud of vapors emitting from a tiny pool of water. It’s partially hidden behind a series of boulders, and it looks like a dream, a fairytale.

  “What is this place?” I try to not to sound so out of breath as I park my bike alongside his. My legs feel like rubber as I walk over to admire the view. If Bryson did want to have his way with me, I might collapse and lay there like a corpse. Not exactly the way I envisioned losing my virginity.

  “The Witch’s Cauldron.”

  We take a seat on the lowest boulder overlooking the aquamarine spring, the perfect size of a hot tub, and Bryson pulls me in by the waist. My breathing ceases. Dear God, he did drag me out into the middle of nowhere just so he could have his way with me!

  “Wow”—I clear my throat—“it’s so amazingly beautiful.” I gaze into the tiny pool as a layer of mist wafts over the surface.

  “It is beautiful.” His hand grazes mine as he passes me a cup of coffee, and my entire body breaks out in a fit of perspiration. “So are you.”

  I suck in a quick breath and hold it. I’ve never had that kind of a compliment before, certainly not from a sex god like Bryson. Although, he did already add a tally mark to his wall this morning. Maybe he’s going for double or nothing? With my luck he’s still on autopilot, and the compliments are just a part of the carnal package.

  “Thank you.” I take a sip of coffee only to burn the tip of my tongue. “You don’t have to practice your pick up lines around me.” I land my hand over his arm to push him off but don’t have the will to do it. “I’m not really in your league.” I glance down at the rim of my coffee, embarrassed by my admission, true as it might be.

  Honestly? Could I have let fifteen minutes go by without dragging us into the awkward zone?

  “I don’t have a league.” His eyes meet with mine before he removes his arm and opens the tiny pink donut box with half a dozen sugared treats staring back at us. “But if I did, I’m pretty sure I’d let you in.” He pushes into me playfully with his shoulder, and my body lights up with hope.

  I glance up at him and hold his gaze, heavy as steel. “According to those tally marks, you let a lot of girls in.”

  “Touché.”

  “Jelly
.” I hold up a donut. I’d better shove it into my mouth before anymore word-vomit oozes out of me. The next thing I’ll be telling him is that I want to pull a Jeanie Waters with him and commence the fuck-fest immediately. That pool of steaming water looks like a good place to start, although I’m betting he’s already “tapped that well,” too. I bet there’s nowhere he hasn’t committed a carnal crime and not very many girls he hasn’t committed them with. Except, of course, me, and now it’s quickly becoming evident I’m on a mission to rectify that.

  “So tell me about your classes.” He’s not eating. He’s not even holding his coffee. He’s simply observing me as if he really cared to know.

  “U.S. History is going to be a bear. The professor hates me, I can tell.” I sweep my gaze over his chest and am startled to see how close he’s sitting. I could have sworn you could have parked a bicycle between us a moment ago. “And, I already have three papers due in a two week span between that and lit. It looks like I’ll have to pull a few all-nighters—but secretly I’ve been looking forward to those.” I push into his shoulder like he did mine, and my arm lights up with heat from the exchange. “I’m a nerd that way.”

  “I’m a nerd that way, too.” He pushes back, and, for moment, I think our little donut exchange might parlay into an all-out wrestling match, jelly and all. “You do realize Jeanie has a few all-nighters planned herself. I doubt you’ll get much done at your place.” He bites into a glazed donut, and half of it disappears.

  “For sure I won’t, but I could probably get some great footage and make millions off a sex tape. ‘Jeanie does Whitney Briggs.’ Who needs this whole edjumacation thing anyway?” I try to rival his donut eating skills and fail miserably by smearing jelly up the side of my cheek. I’m quick to wipe it off, but with my luck it probably looks like a massacre just took place.

  A grey dove darts from the bushes and soars into the sky, leaving a trail like pencil lead through the haze, but Bryson doesn’t notice it. For whatever reason the only thing he seems to notice is me. He touches his finger to my cheek and swipes a small spot of jelly off then holds it in the air for me to see before licking it clean.

  Holy shit.

  “You should ditch that whole dorm thing and hang out with Cole and me.” He pushes into my arm again, and this time he stays there with his shoulder butted up against mine, and, holy hell, my girls parts are feeling some damn good vibrations right about now. His thigh is so close to my leg, I can feel the warmth radiating from him like an inferno.

  “I’m one step ahead of you.” I swallow hard. “I’ve already got my bags packed. But don’t worry. I won’t cramp your style for long. I plan on scoring a room at Casa Alpha Chi. Did you see the size of those Greek houses?” As much as I’d like to talk about expensive looking real estate, I can’t help but quiver from his touch. My entire body feels as though it’s about to combust. One more touch and I’ll embarrass myself by having an all-out screaming orgasm in front of him.

  “I have seen those houses, and I’ve also had the pleasure to roam those halls. You’ll be living it up in the lap of luxury once you’re in.”

  “You think I’ll get in?”

  “Yes.” His brows rise into his forehead. “They’d be insane not to want you.”

  My insides melt at the thought of him believing in me—wanting me.

  “I haven’t had this kind of encouragement since my dad died,” I say it soft, unwarranted. “Not that my mom doesn’t care, but she’s been a little overly cautious with me since he passed away. In fact, Cole is the only reason she green-lighted Whitney Briggs to begin with. I guess she thought having my brother around would be the equivalent of body armor.” A chastity belt is more to the point, but I don’t dare share the imagery with Mr. Edwards. Besides, my girl parts are on the cusp of sending a personalized invite to his boy parts, and I’m not about to stop them.

  “He sort of is.” His eyes widen because we both know he’s already been threatened to steer clear. Anyway, I’m sure a god like Bryson Edwards thinks of me as no more than a little sister, himself. Who am I kidding? Even I thought the girl that kissed him goodbye this morning was hotter than hell.

  “So was that your girlfriend?” If I’m going to pull us into the awkward zone, I may as well commit.

  A bird chirps, an entire array of strange animal sounds purr and hiss in the distance as Bryson tries to figure out exactly what the blonde bimbo from Alpha Chi could have meant to him.

  “Jules is just a girl in a long string of girls.”

  I like the way he reduced her to the human equivalent of a paper chain. Something cheap you could throw away on a whim.

  “Notches,” I correct. A lizard saunters up the rock before spying us and quickly scurrying away.

  “Yeah, well, I think I’m going to hang it up and hand the reins over to the king. I’m no match for your brother’s testosterone superpowers. I think I’ll yield to the master and let him take the throne. It is senior year. One of us was bound to be defeated.”

  “Really?” My heart thumps wild in my chest as a series of low lying clouds move in and steal the sunshine from the watery blue sky. “What’s going to happen to your man parts?” My eyes widen, my cheeks blush bright as candy apples as if I had outright propositioned him. “I’m sure there are some serious ramifications to denying them their regularly-scheduled testosterone release. Rumor has it blue balls are a very real thing.”

  “I’ve taken a cold shower or two in my time.” His steely gaze locks onto mine, and all of nature goes off like a siren around us. It’s as if the birds, the bees, and every creature known to man is cheering us on, every living creature except for Bryson, of course. I’m pretty sure his vow of celibacy has very little to do with me—unless, of course, I nauseate him—kill his appetite for all things estrogen.

  “Cold showers, huh?” I edge my face in toward his to see if he’ll bite. Bryson glances down at my mouth and wets his lips. He’s eyeing me like a snake that might jump out and inflict him with a venomous bite. I’ve kissed a few boys in my time, and leaning in like this was all the nudging it took, just a little movement in the right direction, and before I knew it, their tongues were being fed to me by the inch. But Bryson doesn’t move. He doesn’t breathe or say a word. He just stares me down as if a standoff at high noon were taking place—his testosterone against my estrogen. His eyes widen. His shoulders nudge toward mine, but he stops and presses his lips together as if he’s made up his mind not to continue.

  We finish our donuts, and he races me downhill all the way back to campus.

  He lets me win, and I’m okay with that for now.

  Bryson is the real prize.

  I wonder if I can win his heart like he seems to be winning mine?

  Bryson

  Baya looks damn hot tonight in her barely-there jean shorts, her pink workout bra that annunciates two of her greatest assets. She’s strutting her stuff at the Sky Lab, walking over the lunar-inspired flooring as if she owned the place. Lucky for her, one of the waitresses on duty had to go home early, and now she has twice the tables she had last week.

  “This is fantastic.” She waves a ten-dollar bill in my face. She’s so damn beautiful, I can actually feel my balls weeping in her presence. “Those guys weren’t even here five minutes after their food arrived. I keep scoring the big bills like this, and I might trade in U.S. History for my new—might I add lucrative career—as a waitress.”

  “I’d hang onto the books if I were you,” I say, passing a group of shots off to the drink waitress. She doesn’t looks so thrilled with the fact Baya is here, but I didn’t take an opinion pole, so it really doesn’t matter. “You can always wait tables once you’re through with school, but you won’t get these years back, and, who knows? You might regret not going.” Holt runs through my mind. “My brother decided to chase his tail after high school and now laments the fact I’m getting ready to graduate. But, if you did quit, you could always go back. At least that’s what I tell my brother.�
�� I give a sober nod. “He didn’t bother showing up, and now wishes I kicked him in the balls until he did.”

  “You’re pretty encouraging, you know that?” Her doe eyes blink up at me a smooth lime green, and I want to lose myself just staring in them. “Usually I hear the opposite from Cole and Mom. You know—do as you’re told, not as you wish. Not that I want to quit school or anything. I just got here, and I really like it so far.” Her face lights up pink as cotton candy, and I swallow hard at how fucking gorgeous she is—how preciously sweet. I wish she wasn’t. I wish she was hell on heels, wearing the bitch suit of armor twenty-four seven—that she was just some girl in a sea of Whitney women. I might have done her by now if she was either of those things, but she’s not. Baya has the face and body of an angel. She has me shaking every time she’s around, and yet she’s off limits. Not because of anything Cole said, but because I say so.

  “I’m glad you’re sticking around.” I take a breath. I can tell by the way she’s been looking at me all day she’s feeling something. I should probably end this right now before things get too out of hand. Baya deserves someone as gentle as she is—someone who’ll tell her he loves her and mean it before ever thinking about taking her to the bedroom. A part of me would die to be that person, but deep down I know I can’t.

  A barfly pops up at the counter—a plastic girl with a spray on tan, hair bleached of all its natural color, leaving a dry straw-like mess in its wake. That’s who I should be pining for tonight. For sure I shouldn’t be entertaining Baya with her wonderstruck lust for me. I’m not the person she thinks I am. I’m not even close.

  I head over to the blonde who’s already trying to impress me and my dick by showing off the cherry stem she’s tied in a knot with her tongue.

  “It takes a talent.” I lean in and smolder into her, letting her know with every nonverbal cue, she’s about to get lucky tonight. I glance back at Baya and catch the viral look of grief sweeping across her face.