by Maya Hughes
“You also don’t date.” I bit into my massive burger. Emmett used to be the most romantic guy ever. Sickeningly and to the point that we gave him shit about it all the time when he was with Avery. He was all bouquets of roses, limo rides, and nice dinners out. From what I’d heard from the other guys, things had changed a little.
“I date within the right perimeters. Under circumstances that keep things from getting too serious.” Emmett stopped scanning the bar and grabbed his beer. “It’s all about making sure everyone knows the deal up front. Then no one gets hurt.”
“I’m sure that works out just fine. ‘Listen, I’m not in this for anything long-term; will you let me bang you for a few months and then you’re out? And here’s a nice check to keep your mouth shut.’ Yeah, that sounds like it would never go off the rails.”
Emmett’s head whipped around to Heath, who held up his hands in surrender.
“You know you can’t tell him anything without him blabbing about it everywhere.”
Emmett squeezed the bridge of his nose. “You know what, you’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking. Anyway, it’s working out so far.”
“For you.”
He narrowed his gaze. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“I’m just saying sometimes I’m sure people get their feelings hurt even if you don’t mean that to happen.” The look on Mak’s face back in high school when I’d taunted her about her perfect life or even that first day at the diner when I got on her case about Stanford…I couldn’t shake how shitty that made me.
“Look at you, Mr. Sensitive. I think I remember quite a few hearts broken in the McAvoy wake.” He raised an eyebrow at me, and he wasn’t wrong.
“It’s probably because he’s hanging out with Makenna from high school. She’s keeping him in line.”
Emmett’s eyes got wide, and he choked on his drink. Heath chomped down on his fries with his eyes glued on the screen across from our booth. I shot him a glare he didn’t even notice.
“You’re hanging with the Ice Queen? Damn, things have changed. I thought you two hated each other.”
“We never hated each other. We just liked to button push. And we’re not hanging out really; we’re partners in class together. Not that there would be anything wrong with us hanging out. She’s cool.” Both their heads swung in my direction with their mouths hanging open.
I mean, she was. Everyone was dealing with their own stuff. I didn’t dread our sessions anymore. I liked them. When she stopped being so uptight about everything, she was actually pretty funny and—beautiful. I mean pretty—not pretty, nice. She was nice.
“We are friends. That’s it.”
Emmett and Heath exchanged looks and laughed. That did not bode well…
14
Makenna
“I think we’ve done more than enough.” Declan laid back on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. We’d moved into my room when he complained last time that our couch was some kind of torture device.
“If we make it through these last few pages, think of how much less we’ll have to do later.” I turned back to my computer, my fingers flying over the keys. Declan let out a groan, and my mattress springs squeaked as he got up from the bed.
“Or we call it a night now.” The screen started to close on my laptop, and I tilted my head, trying to type out the last couple lines before I had to yank my fingers out so they didn’t get smooshed.
“Enough, Books. You can’t give everything a hundred percent all the time. Have a little fun.”
“What exactly do you think we’re doing? This is fun.” I smiled teasingly. He rolled his eyes and disappeared out of the bedroom. My stomach sank. Did he just walk out on me? I guess my joke didn’t really land. Spinning in my seat, I was ready to go after him and yelped as he appeared in the darkened doorway.
He waltzed back into my room with a six-pack in his hand. His six-pack. Not like his abs—he had those with him all the time. His t-shirt always stretched tight over them. I shook my head. Not that. Don’t think about his abs. It was a six-pack of beers.
“How did I know these would still be here untouched?” He stood in the middle of the room gently shaking the six-pack, staring at me like I’d been naughty for not drinking an entire six-pack on my own.
I’d forgotten all about those.
“Oh yeah.”
“Oh yeah, is right. These things wouldn’t last a night in my place. Maybe this is where I should start stashing my booze from now on.” He picked up his wallet and slid a weird flat thing out of his wallet. He rested it on the edge of the bottle cap and popped it off. A bottle opener. Of course he’d be the MacGuyver of booze. He opened two beers and handed me one.
I stared at the cool bottle dangling out in front of me and reached my hand out tentatively. My fingers brushed against his and wrapped around the glass and the same sharp jolt shot through me. The kind that woke me in the morning when I’d knew I’d been thinking about him, even when I promised myself I wouldn’t.
“Do you like Yuengling?” He clinked his bottle to mine and took a gulp of his.
“I don’t really know.” The heat crept into my cheeks as I thought about how few drinks I’d had in my life. I was twenty-one, and there wasn’t much of an excuse for a college kid to not have at least a couple. “Don’t they all taste the same?”
He stopped mid-drink and stared at me like I’d just said there was no difference between a 3.6 GPA and a 3.59.
“All the same? What kind of college is Stanford? They do have beer there? Or are you only allowed to have mixed drinks or something?”
“They have beer. I just never really liked the taste.”
“You have to get used to it.”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s what everyone says.”
I tested out the drink in my hand, taking a small sip. The bitterness had a hint of sweetness behind it as the slight carbonation rolled over my tongue. I grimaced and finished the swallow. The hopeful look on Declan’s face fell. He looked like I’d just kicked a puppy.
“I’m sorry.” I sat forward a bit. “I’m sure it’s something I would get used to like everyone says.”
He shook his head. “Never apologize for not liking something. If you don’t like it, you don’t.” He tried to grab the bottle out of my hand, but I jerked it back and took another sip. The buzz of the beer traveled through my body. I wiggled my toes as the warmth reached down there.
“Let me at least finish this one.” I needed to prove it to him and to myself.
He leaned back resting his elbows on my bed and tipped the bottle up. I kicked off my shoes and ran my toes along the chilly hardwood floor. Fall was quickly turning to winter.
We talked about the semester and hockey, naturally.
“I still can’t believe all of you still have your teeth. Isn’t that a big hockey thing? Gap-toothed smiles from getting bashed up against the Plexiglas?”
“I’ll send you a picture when I lose my first one. Maybe I’ll mail you the tooth.” He gave me a dopey grin that made me squeeze my thighs together.
I glanced down at the beer like it had betrayed me, but I’d had feelings like this before when I was around him.
“Ew, gross.” I winged one of the pillows on my desk at him. He caught it midair and lobbed it back at me. My attempt at a catch was thwarted by my beer, and I laughed as I spilled some on my hand.
Our talk drifted to our families, and he thought it was hilarious that my parents were roaming the country as we spoke. I was happy they were having their fun. There weren’t any pain-tinged edges around it this time. They deserved this time. A chance to build those memories while they could.
Sitting in my room with Declan was the lightest I’d felt since before I could remember. He finished his beer and grabbed another. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, and I did a double take at the surreal scene in front of me. Declan was sitting on my bed, relaxed, and hanging out. His muscled and lithe body sprawled out for me to soa
k in a little at a time.
Chuckling to myself, I took another sip of my beer.
“What’s so funny?” He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, rolling the beer bottle between his hands.
“If you’d told me senior year that I’d be hanging out with you and having a beer or two, I’d have said you were crazy.”
He laughed and glanced down, picking at the label on his bottle.
“Definitely.” There was a comfortable silence as we enjoyed our drinks. Well, he enjoyed his. I was mustering my way through mine. “Hey, Mak.” He peered up at me with a worried look on his face. “I wanted to apologize about the whole party thing senior year.”
And just like that I was transported back to a time I’d hoped to forget. All the lightness didn’t go away, but it wasn’t ready to lift me off my feet like it had been before.
“I wouldn’t have said what I said, if I thought it was going to be such a big deal for you. Who knows? Maybe I would have. I was trying to make a joke, and I came off as a dick. I was having a bad few weeks.” He rambled and shifted on the bed like it was suddenly made of sandpaper and rocks. “It wasn’t something I meant for you to take so personally. I was only trying to lighten the mood. You were so serious then. Still are.” He tipped his bottle to me and drank some down.
I didn’t like seeing him like that. As much as I was wrapped up in my own head, I didn’t need to drag him down with me over it. I laughed, my buzz getting stronger with each sip. He glanced up at me, wide-eyed.
“I’m sorry too. I know you work hard at hockey and I’m sure you’ll love playing in the pros. It was really admirable that you stuck with school the whole way through. I shouldn’t have said what I said either. So, let’s say we’re even. Don’t worry about it. I shouldn’t have taken it so personally. There was a lot going on in my life. I…I was just under a lot of pressure back then.” And now, I silently added. “You transferred into Rittenhouse Prep freshman year, right?”
He nodded. I took a deep breath. Way to kill the fun and lively mood. I was about to run it over with my car.
“You missed the Halstead family implosion that happened in seventh grade. I had a little brother. Daniel.” I couldn’t stop. The lump in my throat threatened to suffocate me, but I drank some more beer, hoping to loosen up the hold it had on me. I needed to power through this or I’d never get it out.
“He got sick when he was nine, and I was twelve. Leukemia. And he died the summer between seventh and eighth grade.” Our twin gurneys being pushed down the hallway. The smell of industrial antiseptic. It was like I could taste the sterile air just by thinking of it.
Declan made a small noise, and I glanced up. He’d leaned forward on the bed, perched on the edge.
“While he was sick, I tried to do the best I could with everything. I didn’t want to be another problem for my parents to deal with. We were all in and out of the hospital so much, and things at home started to slip.” I cleared my throat, trying to talk past the boulder lodged there.
“I wanted to help out and try to keep things clean. Started cooking or at least heating up the food people brought over to the house. After Daniel died, my parents were kind of a mess. It was like a part of them died because I guess it had. They weren’t exactly…functional.”
He reached out and tugged my chair forward. The wheels glided across the floor until my knees were between his opened legs. I stared down at the beer in my hands.
“I thought that if I was helpful enough and perfect enough that maybe it would help them come back from the dark place we all went to when he died. Maybe I could make them happy again. I could get them to smile at me without the sadness in their eyes. Maybe I could get them to see me again.” My voice cracked, and I blinked furiously, trying to keep the tears at bay.
Taking a shuddering breath, I peeked up at him. His eyes had their own sheen of tears in them.
“I sure know how to kill a fun time, right? Sorry.” I lifted my beer and took a gulp.
He slid his hands onto my legs, just above my knees, and squeezed gently.
“Never apologize for that. I’m glad you told me. I’m sorry I never knew about your brother and about everything going on with your family. I was a self-absorbed asshole back then.”
“Was?” I cracked a smile. The weight pushing down on me, and the sadness that settled over me lifted some the moment his hands touched me. There were a lot of things that felt different when I was around Declan McAvoy. I gazed into his eyes, and the fluttering was back in full force, but I knew it had nothing to do with the beer this time.
“Yeah, I know. I can be an asshole sometimes now too.”
“No, you’re really not. I’m just a bit high-strung sometimes.” I darted my gaze away.
“Sometimes! Come on, you’re the entire string section of an orchestra.”
I barked out a laugh and nodded, draining the rest of my beer. Shaking it at him as a testament that I wasn’t high-strung all the time, I reached for another one at the same time he did, and our heads were an inch apart.
His freckles weren’t as bright as they had been at the beginning of the semester. The fall weather meant the summer sun wasn’t there to kiss them, to make them come alive, but this close I could see every one in vivid detail. We froze like that, bent over with an arm reached out to the six-pack on the floor.
My fingers brushed against his over the cool glass bottle, and I sucked in a sharp breath. The pupils of his eyes got bigger, the mossy green giving way to black as he lifted the bottle with my hand still on his. Setting the beer onto the bed, he reversed his hold and threaded his fingers through mine. My pulse pounded as the replay I’d kept going of the senior prom dance we’d had slammed right into me. How much I’d wanted to taste his lips. How good it felt to have his arms around my waist. He gazed into my eyes with his never leaving mine.
“Mak.” His voice came out deeper than usual, and a shiver crept down my spine. He said my name like a prayer he hoped I’d answer. With our fingers intertwined, he pulled me closer until my knees hit the edge of the bed.
I hesitantly reached my hand out and slid it along his neck and up into his hair, letting his curly strands run through my fingers. He shuddered and closed his eyes for a second. When they popped open, the overwhelming desire in them made my body hum. Emotions running this high, I couldn’t talk myself out of wanting him. My body and I were in full agreement this time. He was ours, at least for tonight.
“Declan.” My voice came out, and it didn’t sound like me at all. It was breathy and needy, like the ache I had could only be cured by him.
Like he was afraid I’d evaporate into thin air, he leaned in until our foreheads touched.
“Are you sure?”
My throat was tight. He sure as hell wasn’t asking if I wanted another drink. I don’t know what I was sure of, but whatever he had in mind, I needed. I needed him to help me get these feelings under control or get them out of my system.
The ones that slammed into me the second he walked into a room, or that ache when he left. Somehow I’d gotten to the point where Declan McAvoy threatened the careful equilibrium I’d struck in my life and I didn’t know how to fix it. The long silence stretched between us, and I nodded.
It was the only warning I got before he lifted me out of the chair, pressed his lips to mine. He tasted like the beer, and it had never tasted so good.
I spread my legs and straddled his lap, our bodies fitting together as he pushed his tongue into my mouth. Without thinking, I rocked my hips against him, closing my eyes as the little jolts of pleasure rolled through my body.
His hands roamed all over my back, pressing me in even closer. My heart hammered so hard, it was like I was playing my own drum solo in my chest. Every inch of me wanted to be around him. There wasn’t enough air in the world to fill my lungs, and I couldn’t think straight with his lips on mine. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I moaned as his fingers ran up my spine under my shirt. The bulge under my ass m
ade my core throb. Every story from the locker rooms in high school rushed through my head
My pussy clenched as his hard length nudged me through my jeans, demanding his presence be known. Oh, I knew all right. Breaking our lip-lock, I tugged on his hair. His eyes darted to mine, green clashing with blue.
“What’s a girl gotta do to get past first base?”
“Always so bossy.” His chuckle turned into something deeper as I ground my hips against him. It came out like the groan of a starving man finally presented with a buffet. It made my breath catch as he cupped my ass and flipped me around. I bounced on the bed, and he stood at the end of the mattress.
Gripping the hem of my shirt, I whipped it off. I had to be one step ahead of myself or I’d chicken out. I’d never forgive myself for not going for it at least once.
“I’ll show you exactly what you have to do.” He ran his hands over my thighs, keeping his eyes on mine. My eyebrows scrunched together when he leaned in with a smirk on his face. I sucked in a sharp breath as he popped the button to my jeans open with his teeth. My clit throbbed, and I knew I was in for the ride of my life.
15
Declan
The look on her face when I popped her jeans open almost made me laugh. Almost, but the pounding of my cock and the overwhelming need to touch her pushed everything else aside. I had no other purpose in life other than touching Mak and making her want me as much as I wanted her. The tension building between us was ready to blow, and so was I if I didn’t get inside her. She lifted her hips to help me drag the jeans and her thong down her legs.
One look at her glistening pussy and my chest got tight. It was hard to breathe. Like that anticipation before unwrapping a present you didn’t even know you had coming. The small strip of hair she had right above her pussy was perfect. I wasn’t a Brazilian kind of guy. I liked that she had something there, but my eyes were riveted to the shining spots on her thighs. Like she’d been thinking about doing this with me as much as I’d been thinking about it with her.