by Pamela Ann
Douche to the highest order! I was trying to be nice! “Want me to be a bitch? Okay. You have it!” My pent-up emotions from the past few days and this recent call from Liam had me going. “You’re nothing, but—”
“What?” he threw out. “I’m exactly what, Olivia?” He looked fierce, wild even, as he came closer, a mere foot away. “That I’m a worthless waste of space? A dick machine with no future going for me? A bastard?”
Okay, fuck… he heard me say those things about him. When I said that he was a bastard, I meant that he was a douche—not meaning it in a literal sense, but I guess explaining that to him would be pointless now.
He taunted, nostrils flaring. “Have nothing to say, have you? Where’d the bitchy Olivia go?” he pressed on, grating.
Staring into his eyes was such a dumb, wrong move. I was tongue-tied, parched and exhilarated all at once. Oh God, he looked livid and yet, all I could see was how captivating he was. My quick-witted brain had nothing to quip back.
“Grey,” I managed to say, but had no clue what to say next. Maybe sorry would do? He wouldn’t take it though, no, especially after years of shitting on each other. It was too late for words, for anything really.
“Knock, knock.”
We both glanced at the intruder in that a second. Edith, with her three inch heels, skimpy skirt and bikini top trotted towards Grey, grasped his face with her red lacquered nails and kissed him, full on the lips, tongue and all, while I stood there staring speechless at the audacity of this bitch. Eyes wide as saucers, I watched as they both kissed while Grey kept his eyes glued to me, taking in my reaction. When their kiss deepened, I snapped out of my trance and immediately ran upstairs to my bedroom.
My body shook with rage. With anger that wanted to cause pain. With endless loathing. And with jealousy…
Grey meant nothing to me and yet, for some strange reason, I was jealous. Maybe it was just all the tension and stress from it all that I might be imagining it … yeah, that was probably it.
Holding myself together, I pushed the thoughts of Grey and Liam out of my mind and focused on getting ready for tonight.
No matter what happened, I was going to have fun. All men be damned.
Chapter 8
Grey
“You better not do anything stupid with Tiffany, Grey. Tonight’s mine.”
Claws, I hated it when these things were latched on me. “I get to decide that, Edith. If you’re not happy with it, you know where to go.”
“You’re crazy. I’ve been in love with you for like my whole life, I’m not going anywhere.”
She always told me she loved me. It had never bothered me before, but now, it somehow did. You see, Edith was the first person to tell me that they loved me, and even if I didn’t reciprocate her feelings, it was nice to know that at least one human being did.
Jet, my main man, just handed me a cold ice beer, smirking. “I love you, too, Grey,” he said it in a mocking way.
Idiot. I grinned. He was my wingman for a damn reason. “Nice to know, man. Fucking nice to know.” I took a lengthy sip, halfway through the bottle as the party was just getting started.
So far, I’d spent the entire night, watching until her bedroom lights were turned off, letting me know that she already left for her date with Gavin. That was three hours ago.
When I walked in on her talking to someone, I didn’t realize who she was talking to until she said those words to Liam. It was right then that I realized that she actually did have a heart, and that she was capable of loving someone. Which was truly surprising.
So after that interesting encounter we had earlier, I was on the edge about her date with Gavin. I knew they’d be back here afterwards, that was why my eyes kept directing back to the new flood of newcomers just in case it was them who came in. I might have vowed that I would no longer interact with her, but I could still watch her from afar.
Old habits die hard, and it was one habit that was too hard to break.
The party was thumping an hour later. The backyard, inside the house and pool were jammed pack with people from our school, El Camino Real, and from other neighboring schools, Calabasas and Sherman Oaks.
One beer down and a few more dozen to go.
Keeping still in one place wasn’t all that fun, so I bounced about in places. From my pool house who had people playing poker, to the main house where the DJ was situated, people playing volleyball in the pool or with the bunch of people who had lit a small fire pit that was close to the garden. Circulating not only forced me to be a social host, but it also made me scout about to see if Gavin and Liv arrived without my knowledge.
With alcohol in my system, one could only imagine where my thoughts led me to… Gavin with his hands all over her...
Then, out of the blue, the idea of them getting it hot and heavy upstairs in her bedroom stopped me short. I stood directly just right below it and, when I glanced upwards, the room remained dark, just as she left it. However, my mind was telling me to go check it out anyway.
I gripped my forehead with irritation because I clearly was losing my shit. Second, why even bother? Third, why was I still walking towards the main house? I was angry with myself for even caring what went on, but for the life of me, I just couldn’t fathom why I cared so much in the first place. Olivia Taylor was a bitch. Case in point. But—and there was always a but where she was concerned… always—the answer after the word but was still hanging in the air. Even after a decade later.
I was weaving my way in the living room when I saw them dancing—no, more like grinding against each other. That stopped me dead, hot and cold, in my tracks. So the date had gone well. Too well from where I was watching.
Was I surprised that it did? Not really, but seeing them like this, intimate, made me want to lash out somehow. When Olivia kept biting her lip each time Gavin whispered into her ear, my throat started to constrict and I could barely breathe. She laughed freely as her hair bounced about, looking more enchanting by the second.
Her little suggestive smiles and Gavin’s look of satisfaction were all I could see. The people around me became irrelevant. It became like a house of mirrors in a circus on Halloween night.
Bunching my hand, I forced myself to move out of the main house and seek fresh air. My nostrils barely flared to breathe in the air when Tiffany pulled me out of my funk and started yapping about playing a game of chicken. Basically, a woman gets on top of the guy’s shoulders and fights another team, two versus two.
Normally, I participated in these games when I was pissed drunk, but tonight, even though I was sober, I agreed to play. Anything to get me out of this torture in my head because it was starting to give me a headache and, for the life of me, Olivia’s little shy, flirty smiles were all I could think of.
Since I was already donning my board shorts, I only had to take off my shirt before I jumped into the pool with the rest of the gang. Edith was on the side of the pool, sitting and glaring as her foot played with the water. She was jealous that I was going to be paired with Tiffany, but those two knew the rules, so I barely gave her a nod before Tiffany hopped on my back and hugged the breath out of me.
“Can you double check if I tied my bikini-top well? I don’t want my goods falling out of place.” She was biting my earlobe before she handed me her glass of Adios MF drink.
Holding the glowy blue drink in my hand, I lifted her long strawberry blonde hair just to check if they were all secured. “Looks good to me.” I grinned before I took the rest of her drink.
Tiffany.
The pool fight.
Have fun.
I chanted those words in my head, hoping that the flashes of the sultry way the woman inside the house looked earlier would be erased from my memory.
I let out a burring sound after I felt the needle-like burn of the loaded alcohol in my system.
Tiffany plunged her mouth into mine, kissing me with no disregard, tongue whipping, moaning and the lot as she latched her skimpy-clad body
onto mine. Tiff loved PDA, so I was used to her touchy outburst of energy.
“You’re my champion, Grey,” she murmured, glassy-eyed with stars in her eyes.
Moments such as this one, I was always rendered speechless. Angry and heated emotions I could spar with, but sticky sweet inferno, I ran away from. I supposed I could thank Edith for saving my ass on this one, because she jumped into the pool and swam towards us, breaking us apart.
“Jesus, Tiff. Get a grip!”
Edith… I could always count on with these things.
“Fucking come the fuck on, ladies! Greyson Edwards ain’t going anywhere! Let’s play some games. I need some titties in bouncing action!” Jet bellowed from the other side of the volleyball net. “Edith, hop on me, babe. We could knock them out. Trust me, you’d feel like a champion.” He tapped his shoulders before winking at her.
Jet was an idiot. A good idiot. He knew that Edith was getting too clingy and was only looking out for me. So, when two pairs go bout to bout when the whistle blew, and with Edith and Tiffany against each other, well, you could just say that whatever pent-up anger these two had with each other, they channeled it in this fight.
When Tiffany won, my team, Edith was left with a lot of energy to be spent. We barely just finished and she was already onto something.
“Olivia and Gavin, I challenge you both,” Edith called out, flashing those green eyes somewhere.
When I finally checked behind me, her silver blue eyes clashed with mine. She changed from her little skirt and fitted top to a black matching bikini, emphasizing those accents of hers.
My eyes darkened when I saw Gavin whisper into her ear and I saw her nod, accepting Edith’s challenge. “Sure.”
Tiffany excused herself to get another drink, while I weaved towards the end of the pool, passing couples who looked like they were getting hot and heavy in the deeper end of the pool area.
Ignoring the moans and heavy panting, I was wondering why the hell I went all the way over here instead of getting out of the water and drowning myself in more alcohol. My body was buzzing with the feel-good inducement, but watching Liv and Gavin interact, sobered me up completely. When she got on his shoulders, an angry growl emanated from me. My moment of tension got disrupted when a bunch of kids from another school came in and joined the fun, but this time, some idiot requested to take out the net, making the fight more fun, or so they claimed.
The only thing I thought this whole time, watching this whole game play out before me, was how crazy this whole thing was. This wasn’t for “fun” anymore. It seemed that the different school rivalry also became a big issue here.
I saw Edith try to push and kick Olivia off Gavin’s shoulders with a quick, hard, drastic push. Olivia didn’t stand a chance. My breathing ceased as I watched her fall into the water. By then, everyone thought it was a great idea to just jump in and join the fun, so Gavin was oblivious that. Yes, the woman who climbed on top of him wasn’t Olivia, but some random chick who didn’t have a top on.
My eyes scanned where Olivia landed, but the woman hadn’t surfaced yet. Erratically, I started to swim towards them when I saw her emerge on the other end, barely hanging onto the edge, coughing like she had tuberculosis. I came to her rescue. Even though I somewhat hated her, I couldn’t fathom watching her this way. Spitfire Olivia I could handle, but her in a fragile state, I simply couldn’t walk away.
Once I reached her, I automatically wrapped my arms around her stomach, making her tense before I pulled her to the other side, with less commotion and drunken people.
“I got you,” I whispered, pedaling away as I pulled her to the other side. She weighed nothing against my arms. Feather light. Even drenched in chlorine, I could smell her sweet scent. She was intoxicating.
When I felt the cold wall against my back, I spun her around, resting her against the tiled pool wall, while my eyes were busy scanning her delicate face, needing to see if she had any cuts or if she got hurt in any way.
My hands were all over her soft, silky face; above, on the sides and underneath her chin, scanning for a scratch or any abrasion. “You okay?” I murmured, looking at her with concern. My face was so close to hers that I somehow felt like it was just the two of us here. Even though it was dark with only a few slashes of luminescent lighting from the trees, it was enough to see her clearly. She looked more beautiful this close up with her eyes dilated and flushed—simply breathtaking.
She looked rattled with a touch of curiosity, looking like she didn’t know what to do and yet, she kept staring at me, as if she didn’t understand what I was asking her. When I saw her lip quiver, I used my forefinger to lift her chin up towards me, making her look straight into my eyes.
“You okay?” I repeated again, my face moving another inch, needing to read her eyes. She was so close, I could kiss her. Even if the urge was strong, I wanted her to want me, to chase me, to come after me like how I did back then.
Her eyes flickered back and forth, unsure. Eye-to-eye, we silently spoke to each other. She looked fragile and yet strong. I could feel her submit and yet withdrawal at the same time. It was exhilarating and mind-bending to feel this kind of palpable connection to someone I despised. Our eyes battled what we couldn’t communicate through our voices before she finally gave me a small nod, cutting whatever it was we were in trance with.
“Let’s get you out of the water to dry.” Game time was over.
Taking hold of her elbow, Olivia let out a small yelp, cussing like a sailor when I saw that she had a cut. It wasn’t big or anything, but it was enough to make me aggravated.
“Come on.” My hand reached behind her back to guide her out of the water when people, including Gavin and Edith, came towards us with curiosity.
Oh, now they noticed, I thought with irritation. It took Gavin long enough.
“I’ll take care of her, Grey,” Gavin intercepted, already slightly pulling her towards him.
The cocky bastard wanted to play the hero now? “If you took good care of her, she wouldn’t have a cut in the fucking first place. Move the fuck out of my way!” I fumed as I gathered Olivia in my arms, carrying her as they watched like I had lost my mind. Well, maybe I did.
“Put me down!” she hissed through gritted teeth as I climbed the pool stairs and then walked towards the back entrance of the house to avoid other guests. “Grey! Put me the fuck down!” She tried twice to maneuver out of my arms, but I wasn’t letting go.
Why was she angry anyway? I wanted to help, was all.
My nose flared at her audacity to be angry, but I remained silent until we reached her room. With one hand, I opened her bedroom door. Walking directly towards her bathroom, I switched the light on before I cleared whatever cosmetic paraphernalia she had on the counter with a quick swipe of my hand. Placing her on the marbled bathroom counter, I was about to move away when she tried to get off from her position.
“Don’t even think of moving, Olivia. Sit still.”
“I’m fine! You’re over-reacting.”
Shaking my head, I reached for the medicine cabinet that was conveniently located on the sidewall and took out the First Aid kit. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” I asked as I ripped the ointment foil, squeezing the little tube out on my middle finger before applying the gel on her red, swollen, scratched elbow, before covering it up.
When she didn’t reply, I searched her face. She was wearing a weird expression, eyes dilated as she looked at me silently. I was a man, so when I saw these signs, my eyes dropped to her bikini-covered breasts, finding the outline of her nipples aroused.
My mouth watered. Literally, I felt saliva gather in my mouth at the thought of sucking one of those rosebuds. I wanted to pounce on her, but I was adamant that she make the first move. She already rejected me enough; any more would blow my gasket.
“Grey… about earlier…” She licked her lips, making me zero in on their cherry color. “The whole bastard thing… it wasn’t like that. I never meant it like that,” she
whispered, while I was mesmerized at her heaving chest, something about her voice made me look into her eyes… and I simply felt lost… in her. “You have to understand that I would never call you that literally. It was more of your attitude towards me that made me call you that word.”
Olivia, I’ve wanted you for so long…
“I’m sorry,” she finished.
While she was saying her piece, I was conflicted because I wanted to devour her, but she would scream murder if I did. Even if I knew she felt this connection with me, she wouldn’t act on it. She was sorry for calling me a bastard… What about what happened before? The one that mattered most? I knew I was young, but I knew I meant everything I said to her then.
Pulling away from her gaze, my eyes dropped, burning into her lips. My cravings were hell, however when my addiction was right in front of me, the high of thinking that I could get a taste of it was too much. That was the saddest thing… I never really kissed her. No. Not really. Third grade Spin the Bottle kiss didn’t count.
It was idiotic, but I couldn’t help it. I had to lean forward—a fraction—somewhat aiming for her lips, but not. It was a test to see if she would let me be this close… and when she tensed and then turned her face to the side, I got my answer. Same as always.
Holding myself with every ounce of restraint, I pulled away and went straight to the shower area, turning the dial to hot temperature. Without looking directly at her—more like staring at her neck—I started to speak. “Have a hot shower in case you got hurt anywhere else. Your muscles won’t be as sore tomorrow.” I started walking out of the bathroom door.
“Grey?”
I paused with my back to her, hands in my pocket. “Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
I nodded. It was bittersweet. She was starting to become less bitchy, but we both remained in the same position.
Wanting her would always be my problem. Hating was much safer than craving her to distraction. It was true what they say… we always want what we couldn’t have.