by J. B. McGee
It’s Marco Polo. It’s like he teases me, gets close, almost lets me catch him, and then he retracts. I call out, hoping he’ll find me because eventually it just gets old being Polo.
When I turn around to get out of the pool, my jaw drops. Amie’s in Brody’s arms. He has her pushed against the side of the pool, and his head is dipped down. Their lips are so close. She’s smiling, and then he does it. He kisses my best friend.
Great. First Wells and Violet. Now Amie and Brody. That means the only people not coupled are Holden and me. This isn’t going to be awkward at all.
A few minutes later, Amie and Brody suggested we meet back at my house to watch a movie after everyone changed. I have the best home theater.
That’s where we are now. My hair is in a loose, messy bun on top of my head. The chlorine and water makes my hair curly, so tendrils are falling down by my face. I blow one of them out of the way. To torture Holden, to pay him back for the way he teased me, flirted with me at the pool, I put on my shortest pair of shorts along with a sheer shirt over a string bikini top. Who knows? We could always go night swimming. Not likely. That’s my excuse, at least.
I’m thinking he must have had the same idea about torturing me because his white V-neck shirt is tight. His muscles are begging to be freed, and it really shows off his sexy collarbone. I’m not sure what’s wrong with me. Why all of a sudden I’ve started having thoughts about licking male body parts. Leaning down, I open our cabinet that houses our DVDs. “Action, comedy, romance, romantic comedy?” Of course, I make sure that it feels like my ass cheeks are about to fall out of my shorts while I’m doing this. I glance back over my shoulder to see if I’m having any effect on Holden, and I catch him looking. Hell yes. His eyes shift from there to my face, like our eyes have a secret communication code. They always find each other. “What do you wanna see?”
He smirks and shakes his head before looking away. I need a private place to decompress, a place where I can throw my head back against a door and let out all the pent-up breaths I’m holding in. A place to fall back on a bed and scream into a pillow. But none of those places are available, so I just go back to intensely studying our DVD collection. It’s like Brody, Amie, Wells, and Violet aren’t even here. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m so caught up in Holden or if they are just so caught up in their new relationships. Regardless, I’m not naïve enough to think meeting at my house to watch a movie was anything other than their way of having private time. More private than the actual theater.
Deciding I could use some comedy, I opt for Wedding Crashers. Yeah, it’s a romantic comedy. It’s also just another way to torture Holden. If we’re going to be here, be the tag along friends, I need to at least laugh through it. And he can suffer through any cheesiness.
Amie and Brody take the back, good seats, of course.
Wells clears his throat. “Nope. Out. Those seats are taken.”
“Wells,” I grumble. “So rude. They’re our guests.” If I can’t sit back there, he shouldn’t get to, either. I hate having someone behind me when I watch a movie. Someone who can see my every move. And why isn’t Holden trying to bust up whatever he and Violet have going on?
Intense pain on the back of my head causes me to duck, my hands instinctively going up to shield it from further attacks. “Ouch, you jerk.”
“You took the middle row, which means Vi and I have to sit in front of you now.”
“Ew. I don’t want to watch you two making out the whole movie. I’ll switch. You win.”
He chuckles. “You’re so easy, Cammie.”
I ignore the double innuendo of that comment. My attention is diverted anyway as Holden takes the seat beside me.
He leans in toward my ear. “I thought we said we were changing clothes for the movie.”
“I did.”
He shakes his head. “You put on another bathing suit and a see-through shirt.”
“How observant of you,” I say, my lips curving into the fakest smile possible, but I’m pinned by his gaze, paralyzed with the realization that I’m not capable of being fake around Holden Masters. I’m unable to be anything other than myself, anything other than real. I lean in closer as the movie starts to play. “And you know what?”
His eyes become hooded, and he looks drunk, but I know he’s not been drinking.
“I think you like it or you wouldn’t be complaining,” I whisper, my mouth so close to him I’m sure he can feel my breath. I hope he says something back to me because I desperately want to feel his.
He clears his throat. “Any guy with a dick would notice, Cam.”
His words send warmth throughout my body. I wonder if his lips are as soft as they look. I wonder what his hand would feel like in other places, not just my waist, my sides, my legs. What is wrong with me? Gah.
He looks down at my shirt, and I realize in this moment my nipples have hardened, and even though my insides feel like warm, gooey apple pie, there are goosebumps all over my skin. “Maybe you should put on a jacket or something.”
“I’m good,” I say, inching closer. Kiss me, dammit. Kiss me, Holden.
That intense feeling I’d been experiencing all day at the pool returns, except I know it’s not from Holden. Yeah, his gaze is fixed on me, his lids hooded, and his eyes so dilated they look like they’re black instead of blue. But there’s something else. Not coming from behind. It’s coming from the corner. I turn my head and see Father. He gives me a stern look, his brows furrowed, his lips pushed together.
“A word.” Is all he says.
I shrug at Holden, then make my way to the front of the room. He opens the door, his arm outstretched and showing me the way out of the home theater like I don’t know my way around our own house. I’m not sure why he’s so mad. I wasn’t doing anything wrong. He looks at my shirt.
“Go put some clothes on, and when you come back, sit somewhere else.”
“Yes, sir.”
I walk to my room and lock the door. The bed I yearned for earlier when I was picking out the movie gives me comfort. I fall on my stomach into the mattress, screaming into my pillow and kicking my feet. When that doesn’t satisfy whatever is pent-up inside of me, begging for release, I stand and walk to my full-length mirror. I assess myself from head to toe, trying to see what Holden sees. Does he like it?
Based on the reaction of my father, I’d say he does. But I don’t understand why he hasn’t made a move. He gets so close and then pulls back.
When my eyes zero in on my breasts, I pinch the nipple in an attempt to pucker it the way it was a few minutes ago. That doesn’t help with trying to let go of this energy consuming me. But it feels good. I pull the sheer shirt off, tossing it on my floor. Then, I pretend Holden is behind me, his head resting on my shoulder holding the string to my top. With one swift motion, I tug it, and it falls to my feet. His lips curve up in a crooked smile, and my core begs to be touched. But he doesn’t do that. He plants kisses on my shoulders, on my neck, turning me so he can see all of me. Then, he takes a nipple into his mouth and sucks. Instead, I gasp as I palm it, wanting to feel something, wishing his mouth really was on me. Unbuttoning my shorts, I slowly pull the zipper notch by notch before pushing them off. The bikini bottoms that were hiding underneath have the same string as the top, and I imagine him grinning wickedly as he cocks his head while simultaneously jerking the string, freeing it, freeing me.
A knock interrupts my first sexual fantasy. “Um. Who’s there?”
“It’s Holden.”
I take a step to try to get to my dresser, but I trip over my shorts and tumble to my floor. “Crap. Shoot.” My feet get twisted in the strings to my bikini. “Dang it.” I huff, blowing the stray hair out of my face.
“Can I come in?” The door knob rattles.
“No!” I scream, pulling the covers from my bed down to cover me.
“Okay. I just wanted to let you know I’m gonna bail.”
Why? Why would he do that?
I sit u
p, wrapping myself in my covers. Why would he go if he liked me? The game must not be as fun outside of the pool. “Okay,” I say. But really I want to scream, “No, don’t.” There’s a part of me that contemplates opening the door wearing nothing just to see what he would do, but I’m not that bold. I don’t have that much confidence. And I’m not even sure if he actually likes me. If he did, would he be leaving?
“I had fun today,” he says.
I’m on my feet in an instant, padding my way to the door. Putting my hand up against the wood, I lean into it. “Good to know you enjoy annoying me.”
He lets out a small chuckle. “Why’d you leave?”
“You told me to change. And so did my father.”
“Ah.”
“Why is there a door still separating us, Cam?” His voice is husky, and it makes heat radiate throughout my entire body.
“Because I’m naked, Holden.”
He mutters something inaudible.
“I didn’t hear you.”
“You should probably put your bathing suit back on. That’d be better than nothing.”
I hit the door. I’m not sure how to take that comment. “Shut up.”
“Night, Cam.”
“Night, Holden.”
Five minutes later, I’ve put on a pair of yoga pants and a tank top. It’s not sheer. The yoga pants aren’t too fitted. It’s nothing that would make a guy drool. When I enter the theater, Holden’s still here. Crap. He’s talking to Violet over in a corner. If I’d known he was staying, I would have changed into something much cuter. What the heck?
He glances over at me and smiles. I remember what my father said, and I go sit beside Amie even though I’m sure that’s going to annoy them.
I lean into her ear. “I thought he was leaving?”
“Who?”
“Holden.”
She shrugs. “Why would you think that?”
“Because he came to my room while I was naked and asked if he could come in.”
Amie gasps.
“I mean he asked if he could come in before he found out I was naked.”
“Please tell me you let him.”
Slowly turning my head, my mouth drops. “My parents are home. He’s my best friend. No.” I shake my head, dropping my voice so he won’t be able to hear hopefully. “I didn’t let him into my room while I was naked.”
“But you wanted to, right? Will you just admit that to me and to yourself already?”
I swallow, still moving my head from side to side, remembering my fantasy. I catch a glimpse of him, and he’s even better in person than what I imagined when I daydreamed about him. “No. He doesn’t like me like that.”
“For someone so smart, you sure are stupid.” She puts her hands on the sides of my face and turns it to where it’s looking directly at Holden. “Watch the way he looks at you when he realizes you’re staring at him.”
“I don’t know what I’m looking to see.”
“All you have to do is open your eyes. He looks at you like he’s picturing you without clothes. Like you’re his favorite thing. Like he’s so fallen for you.”
He looks up under his lashes and gives me a funny look as if to say, “What the heck are you two doing, and why are you looking at me like that?”
“I’m not seeing that. Sorry, Amie.”
“Okay, so that wasn’t a good example.”
At this point, no one is actually watching Wedding Crashers. We’ve created our own thing called Movie Crashers.
“But he does look at you when you’re not looking the way I just described. Maybe you’re too close to be able to see it.”
“It doesn’t matter. You know what happens when people in high school date their best friend?”
“What?”
“They end up without a best friend after they break up. No thanks.”
“Or they end up marrying their best friend,” she retorts.
Ugh. Rolling my eyes, I sigh. “Be real.”
“I’m being real, Cam. Look at him. Do you think he’s going to spend all of high school waiting on you to finally pick up on his signals?”
I have to admit the thought of Holden Masters with another girl makes my stomach roll. Just thinking of him giving another girl the look he just did me makes me green with envy. We’re hormonal teenagers, though. This is just infatuation and flirtation. Neither of which lasts. Friendship, though, that does. I’m not going to ruin it.
When I don’t reply Amie tugs me closer. “Fine if you need some time, but at some point, you have to explore the chemistry, Cam. It’s like you two are the only ones who can’t feel it.”
Oh, she’s very wrong about that. But I’m not admitting it to her right now.
Speaking of friendships and feelings. “What’s up with you and you know who?” I whisper since he’s on the other side of her.
She shrugs.
“If you don’t even know what’s going on in your own romantic life, how can you judge mine?”
She lets out a small laugh. “The difference is taking a chance, going after what you want, admitting it. I’ve done all three of those things today. I don’t care how it ends up.”
“So you don’t care if you ruin your friendship?”
She shakes her head. “We won’t. Just like you and Holden won’t.”
“Eh, you don’t know that.”
“And neither will you unless you try.”
“Change the subject. Now,” I say as Holden starts to walk over to me.
“Hey. I needed to talk to Vi about how she’s going to get home. It’s getting late, and Mom and Dad’ll shoot me if I let her walk home alone at night. Even in this nice neighborhood.”
“Yeah, I get that.” Why’s he telling me this? “You’re a good brother, Holden.”
He looks down at his feet, but I can see the smile tugging the corners of his mouth. “Thanks. I just wanted to say your new outfit’s cute.”
My stomach flutters. It needs to stop. “Thanks. Although, it’s not like I’m trying to impress you or really care about what you think of my clothes…or lack thereof.” I’m such a liar. I wonder if he’s able to see through me, see through to my soul, to be able to sense how much I want more with him, but how terrifying losing him is for me.
“So, you just changed for no reason?”
“I told you. My father told me to change.”
“Ah, that’s right. How could I forget?”
I wink at him. Why, I’m not sure. It was just like a twitch in my eye. “And I guess you forgot you also suggested I put something else on too. More than once. In here and when I was in my room.”
He chuckles, dipping his head down and then looking back up at me. I swear his cheeks are rosy. “Night for real this time, Cam.”
“Hey, Holden.”
“Yeah?”
“Your outfit is cute too.”
He crumples his forehead as he looks down and back up to me with a look of bewilderment on his face. “Um,” he says before inching away, pointing and walking toward the door. “Bye.”
I didn’t think I’d be relieved for him to leave, but I am. Finally, for the first time today, my body instinctively relaxes. I shrug, smile, and turn to face Amie. “Was that better?”
Rolling her eyes, she sighs. “You’re kidding right? Because right now I want to ring your neck.”
“What?” I ask. “I told him his outfit was cute.”
“What are you? A toddler has more game than you. Seriously, you can’t be this clueless.”
When he’s completely gone, I turn and look at my best friend with all the sincerity I have in me. “I’m not clueless. I’m scared. Because what I feel for him…let’s just say it’s anything but innocent, pure, or friendly.”
She fist pumps. “Finally.”
“Shh. Vi’s still here.”
“Trust me. She’s not listening to you or worried about a thing you say.”
It’s true. Basically as soon as Holden dismissed her, she was in W
ells’ lap giggling and kissing him. It’s disgusting. I want to puke when I watch that, so I try to avoid looking in their direction.
“Just think about what I said. Give him a chance.” I inhale and slowly let all the carbon dioxide out. “Is that a yes?”
“It’s not a no.”
I don’t know what the hell is going on with Violet and Wells. It’s pissing me off, but for some strange reason, the only person I was interested in today was Cammie. Never before had I really noticed how hot she is. And even though we’ve been good friends our entire lives, something was different today. I couldn’t worry about whatever trouble Violet was getting herself into. The only goal I had was to keep myself from getting in too deep with Cammie—from ruining our friendship. It didn’t stop me from walking a line of fire, though.
Apparently, Wells doesn’t care about being in over his head, about the fact that Vi is my sister. About the fact that he’s older than Cammie and me, so he’s definitely out of Vi’s league.
No matter how much I tried to avoid them, because I thought I was going to puke every time I saw them playing tonsil hockey together, it became obvious they’re hot and heavy. If Wells Spencer is using my sister to get a piece of ass, I’m going to have his. I don’t need them making it awkward between Cammie and me.
For that reason, I threatened to out her to Mom. I may have been a little impatient with her because my dick was aching from a severe case of blue balls courtesy of Cammie Spencer. So, she was less than impressed when I offered her transportation home even though I was bailing early so I could go home and jack off to images of Cammie in that itsy-bitsy teeny-weeny bikini.
“Wells can take me home,” she said, her lips curving into a huge grin. That just made me want to get out of that house faster because I’m pretty sure she’s already practicing using Spencer as her last name instead of Masters. Ugh.
As I approach my driveway, I’m surprised to see a car there because I know Mom has plans to be gone most of the night to some Magnolia Grove women’s night out thing, and I left Vi at the Spencers’. So, I’m really shocked when I pull up to the house and see Heather’s car. The lights are on inside, so I know Dad’s home. Strange.