by Amanda Heath
I think the only reason I answer so truthfully is because I can tell Channing is listening to everything I say. It makes me feel weird to have him staring at me like that, but I want him to know. Maybe if he knows, he’ll start sharing with me.
Wait, no. I don’t want him to start sharing, because then I’ll start to care. Then he’ll break my heart and hurt me forever. No thank you.
When he won’t stop staring at me, I kick him in the shin with the pointed toe of my flat. He jumps slightly in his chair and I meet his eyes. I see laughter in them and I feel like I might fall out of my seat.
Dinner goes smoothly after that. I make myself ignore him and it works. Until Gram asks him to show me around the house. Apparently she and Richard have a few things to take care of. Richard and Gram are both CEO’s with their oil company, so they have to make a conference call.
I groan on the inside but smile politely at Gram. Channing doesn’t say anything but I can see he doesn’t want to be alone with me. Feeling is mutual buddy. He walks over to my side of the table and offers his elbow. I really don’t want touch him, but I do. I’d rather there not be a scene in front of Gram and Richard.
Channing starts walking me through the halls and explaining what each room is. His tone is bored and I’m starting to fall asleep on my feet. Then I remember something Gram said back at my house. Channing never got to be a kid. He never got to play.
Suddenly I want to do something for him. I want to see him play, enjoy himself. So while we are walking down a hall at the back of the house, I stop. I let go of his elbow the second we were out of sight. It takes him a second to realize I’m not following him. When he turns around I already have my shoes off. Luckily they came out with these super awesome socks that you can’t see while I’m wearing my flats. I start walking backwards, and I love the puzzled look in his eyes. When I reach the beginning of the hallway, I start running, and then I slide across the hardwood floors. I slap his butt on my way past him, letting out a laugh.
When I finally stop, he’s looking at me funny. “Try it,” I tell him, panting. He only shakes his head. I sigh and tread back to him. He’s going to have to loosen up at some point. If he keeps at this rate he’ll never get married or have a serious girlfriend. “Are you scared?” I ask when I’m standing in front of him.
“No. I’d rather not act like a child,” he mutters, looking away from me.
I decide to be bold and grab his hand. He tries to take his hand from mine, but I don’t let it go. “Look, I do realize we hate each other, but I’m only trying to help. You need to loosen up or one day you’re going to wake up and be forever alone.” I let his hand go, before I make my way to the front of the house.
“Wait,” he whispers.
I turn back around and he’s taking his shoes off. He’s got on black socks that disappear under his black slacks. I think I might start drooling when he lifts the black dress shirt out of his slacks. Peeks of tan abs come out and I remember the night on my car. My breathing hitches, thinking of how he touched me and what it felt like to touch him.
“Don’t start looking at me like that,” he murmurs, walking past me.
“Like what?” I blurt, confused by the hungry look in his eyes.
When he reaches the beginning of the hallway he says, “Like you want to repeat the night on your car.” I start to say something back, what I don’t know, but he’s running down the hallway.
Then I don’t care what we were talking about. He has a full-blown smile on his face as the wind rips through his hair and his feet slide easily over the hardwood. Then he smacks my butt and laughs out loud when I startle.
I’m running after him before I know it. I can’t help myself; the way he looks right now is intoxicating. He turns around right in time for me to jump into his arms. My arms go around his neck and my legs around his waist. His hands immediately go under my dress to my butt.
I do not care.
My lips smash into his and I force him to open his mouth. My tongue reaches in and clashes with his. He groans, gripping my butt harder, eliciting a moan from me. My hand moves up to the back of his head, threading through his silky hair. I can’t control myself, and start rubbing against the bulge I feel inside his slacks. I swear my panties almost melt off.
That feels so freaking good.
“Channing? Paisley?” Gram’s voice breaks through my lust haze.
“Fuck,” Channing whispers, letting me go. My feet hit the floor and I immediately feel the loss. I feel him touch my leg and look down. Apparently my dress was up around my waist, showing off my white lace panties.
I’m still so dazed, I almost shriek when Gram appears at the beginning of the hallway. “What are you two up to?” she asks, a bright smile on her face.
“Um…I made Channing slide across the hallway?” It sounds like a question. I meet Channing’s eyes and they are laughing at me.
“That’s…odd of you Channing,” Gram replies that smile still on her face.
He shrugs and walks over to pick up his shoes. My body still tingles from that kiss and it also doesn’t understand why we stopped. The dampness between my legs is uncomfortable, so now I can’t wait to take a shower.
I finally blink a few times, remembering where I am. I think my eyes bug out of my head, but I don’t care. I just kissed Channing…and he kissed me back! This is epic. And we didn’t fight the entire time I’ve been here.
Maybe there’s hope after all.
Gram and Channing walk me to the door, but Channing offers to walk me to my car. I shiver thinking about what we did on that car. My hormones need to calm the hell down. This is insane.
I watch Channing as we approach Dancer. His walk is graceful and sexy. My toes curl in my shoes as he stares at the hood. Then he looks over at me, that dangerous look in his eyes again. His amazing expensive cologne washes over me so I reach a hand out to steady myself against the car.
The he blows my mind. He whispers next to my ear and tingles immediately start in my thighs. “I’m coming over tonight.”
Chapter 18
I WAS LOOKING forward to seeing Channing tonight. I wasn’t going to have sex with him, just make out a little. Or a lot. I don’t normally have sex on the hood of my car, and I already feel incredibly stupid about that. As much as I would love to have sex with him again, because honestly it was amazing. I just don’t think I should jump into bed with him. I’m only seventeen years old, I’m pretty sure I’m not ready for that kind of relationship.
I do know I want to know Channing. I want to know everything about him. It’s driving me crazy because everyone else in my new life is pretty much an open book. Channing, of course is not. Right now I feel like it’s my life’s mission to open him up, find out all his secrets and set him free.
So it’s about an hour after I get home from his house and I start my period. Why women have to bleed for five days straight every month is beyond me. Guys don’t have to, and it seems unfair in the scheme of things. I’m lying in my bed curled into a ball, trying not to cry. My periods always bring crying and anger. Plus I want a bag of chocolate and huge box of Midol.
Luckily I’m not one of those people who religiously delete their old text messages. I never saved Channing’s number, but his text message is still in here. I scroll until I find it and send him a quick text.
Don’t come tonight. Aunt flow came for a visit.
I never get a response, which I figured would happen. I probably freaked him out talking about my period. And I’m sure he thought he was going to get laid tonight. And he can go to hell if he thought that anyway. I should punch him in the face for even thinking that.
See, anger.
Around ten o’clock there’s a knock on my front door. I figure it’s my grandma wanting to know about my dinner with Grams. I don’t want to get out from under the covers where Maggie is keeping me warm. But I do. I drag my feet and open the door. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask Grandma if we could talk later, but I’m surprise
d to see Channing standing there.
“What are you doing here?” I blurt. I know he saw that text message.
His face is blank as he puts his hand on my hip and moves me out of the doorway. I’m startled by the touch and don’t protest. That’s when I notice the bag in his hand. It’s a plastic convince store bag. I blink at it and then I blink at him.
“I brought you some stuff,” he tells me, handing me the bag. Then, surprising me again, he grabs my free hand and pulls me towards my bedroom. At this point I think he really didn’t get my text. I bet this bag has kinky sex toys. I’m really going to punch him in the face.
He leads me to the bed and crowds me until I sit on the edge. Then he lifts up my feet and puts them under the cover. Then he lifts the covers and pulls them over my legs. Maggie wakes up and looks at him, but then lays her head back down.
When Channing sits on the edge of my bed, it’s on the tip of my tongue to ask what the hell is going on when he starts taking stuff out of the bag. There’s a bag of Hersey kisses and a box of Midol. He hands them to me, but there’s still something in the bag. I finally look through the almost transparent bag and see they are tampons. Those he gets up and puts them in my bathroom.
“What’s going on here?” I mumble, really confused at the moment.
He shrugs, and then sits back down one the edge of the bed. He twists towards me and places one hand on the other side of me. “You don’t feel good, I brought you stuff to make you feel better.”
“That’s really…sweet?” I know it sounds like a question, but seriously who knew he was sweet? Not me. I thought he was the biggest arrogant asshole that ever lived. I mean I did call the dude douche canoe for weeks. Not to his face though.
He chuckles and as the sound washes over me, I grin back. I love it when he laughs. His face looks carefree. The expressionless mask nowhere in sight. “I know I don’t have a great track history when it comes to you, but I’m trying to make up for that,” he tells me.
I notice he changed out of the slacks and dress shirt, and replaced them with a grey Henley and low rise jeans. “This is a wonderful start.” Never in million years would I have thought Channing would be so thoughtful and considerate. He’s not even my boyfriend! “My best friend back home, she’s been with her boyfriend for like four years, and he’s never bought her tampons. He even turns his phone off when she starts her period.” I don’t know why I just told him that.
He chuckles again and looks away from my face for a moment. “I think you’ll find I’m not like most guys.”
“No, I already figured that out,” I reply, smiling when he blinks.
“Anyway, you want to watch a movie?” he asks me, his eyes full of a little hope and excitement.
“Yeah,” I whisper, entranced by that hope. What is he hoping for?
He gets up off my bed and moves over to the TV. He pulls out a bunch of romantic comedies from the shelf for DVDs. I shake my head before telling him to put in Saw. He looks puzzled but puts it in anyway. “I tend to become violent during this time of the month. I would rather watch a violent movie, then a sappy fluff of a romantic comedy,” I explain even though he didn’t ask.
“I can tell that about you,” he says walking to the other side of the bed. He kicks his shoes off before getting into the bed. He pats Maggie who gets up and moves to the end of the bed. “You looked like you wanted to stab me when you opened the door.” This is true.
“Don’t take offense. No one is safe from my wrath during my period. I even get upset with my little sister and she’s freaking two,” I mutter.
He only chuckles. Then he puts his right arm around my shoulders and pulls me to him. I don’t mean to let out a sigh when my head hits his chest, but I do. I’m embarrassed but he doesn’t say anything about it. His hand rests on my hip in a possessive grip. I’m not going to lie, it makes me feel tingly.
About ten minutes into the movie, I become more interested in the boy beside me, than the show. So I start asking him questions. I stay clear of what’s going on between us. I don’t know if I’m ready for that conversation yet.
“What’s your favorite color?” I lean back a little so I can see into his eyes. The smoky blues look back with intrigue. That I like.
“Black,” he says, still looking in my eyes. “Yours?”
“Blue.” Not green anymore, but the same color blue of his eyes. Wait. Did I just think that? Oh lord I’m in freaking trouble. A lot of trouble. I can’t stop myself though. “Favorite movie?”
“American Psycho. You?”
“The Breakfast club. Favorite book?”
“It by Stephen King. You?”
“Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen. Favorite season?”
“Winter. You?”
“Winter.” That makes us both smile. At least I’m getting to know him, a little. I now know some of his favorites, but I don’t know why he likes them. With Channing you have to let him explain things, in his own way. If he doesn’t share it freely, then he doesn’t want you to know. He’s showing me what he likes but not giving details. It’s a bit frustrating but I’ll take what I can get.
Then I get bold. “Favorite sexual position?”
His eyes smile at me and his thumb reaches up to brush against my cheek, making me shiver. “On the hood of you car,” he says to me, his eye dropping to my lips. Then I lick them and his eyes become down right hungry. “You?” he mumbles, almost as if he forgot we were playing a game.
“On the hood of my car,” I reply lifting my lips up to his. The kiss is gentle and slow. He lets his lips and tongue get to know mine. His hands don’t roam, staying where they had been. Mine don’t roam either, one staying on his stomach and the other pushed against his side.
It seems as if we kissed for hours but I’m sure it was twenty minutes. He lets go first, lifting his lips from mine and placing a kiss on my forehead. I continue to stare up at him, wondering what the hell I’m supposed to do here. Then he takes that thought from me, by moving my face with his finger back to the screen. “Watch the movie, baby,” he whispers next to my ear.
Jesus.
I control my breathing but it doesn’t work out the way I want it to. I know he can tell I’m freaking out because he stiffens up next to me, but doesn’t say anything. He brought me stuff for my period, he called me baby, he’s cuddling me on my bed while we watch a movie; I was not expecting this when I kissed him at his house. I was just so happy to see him having fun. I got overwhelmed.
Though I think it would say a lot about me if I didn’t freak out and just went with it. Right now though I feel like crap and he did make me feel better. I’ll leave the freaking out for a later day. Probably when he goes home tonight.
About three quarters into the movie, my eyelids begin to get heavy and before I know it I’m falling asleep on his chest. His deep, even breathing lolling me to sleep. I dream about my grandmother’s fist fighting and screaming over me. It really freaks me out and I wake up in a cold sweat.
I’m was lying on my side, Maggie behind me. There’s no sign of Channing. My lights are all off and so is the TV. I check my cell phone and see it’s three a.m. I feel bad I passed out on him, but things happen.
I get up to go to the bathroom and take care of business. The light from the open bathroom door washing my room in light and I notice a piece of paper taped to the TV. As I read it, my stomach clenches and my heart beats super fast.
Your eyes make me feel things I’ve never felt
Your smiles make me feel like I could be anyone I want to be
Your body, the way it moves, it drives me crazy
I never meant to hurt you.
I was afraid of all you make me feel
I tired to fight it
We are both scared
Something I can’t change
Now I’m asking for a chance
To make you fall for me
I sat on my bedroom floor for long minutes, reading and re-reading his poem. My heart nearly
beating out of my chest.
I’m pretty sure I don’t have far to fall.
Chapter 19
I FINALLY FALL asleep, but it wasn’t easy. The dream with my grandmothers scared the crap out of me, because I could totally see that happening. Especially after I found out Grandma lied about Gram. But since I don’t see that as an immediate threat, my mind wanders to Channing.
A small smile comes to my lips and I can’t help the curling of my toes. That poem was sweet and I honestly didn’t know he had it in him. I mean come on. Channing Southerland, a poet? You didn’t see it coming either.
When he called me baby I thought I might die of happiness and I don’t even know why. Lots of guys call girls baby; it’s their thing. I just haven’t ever had anyone call me baby. Now I find myself wishing that he’d call me baby a lot more.
The Channing I met when I first moved here is completely different than the Channing I know now. He’s still pretty arrogant, but I can live with that. With the way he looks and the confidence with which he carries himself, I’d be arrogant too. He’s definitely no longer mean. Bringing me stuff to make me feel better? I never saw that coming. Now I just hope he stays this way. I remember him being sweet after the incident at the party, but then he went right back to being an asshole. Not that I helped with that.
I’m climbing into my car wearing my ugly uniform. I went with the black shirt and blue vest. Though I went and bought a pair of blue stockings, just to change it up. I read the handbook three times and it never says anything about what color of stockings I have to wear. I’m wearing my hair down, with one of BeeBee’s hair bows clipped to the side of my head. It’s a little black one, but it looks cute as hell. I did my make-up light but with smoky eyes. I’m not used to the extra eye shadow, so now my eyes feel heavy.