by Lisa Simmons
"You've mentioned," she grumbled, irritated by my repetition of the whole, 'I don't date' thing. "I don't either."
She seemed to say that a lot, but every time she said it, it was if she was trying to convince herself more than me. I suspected that Jack had done a real number on her, which made me want to bash his face in.
"Why'd you call me?" she asked suddenly.
"Why do you think?" I questioned, curious as to what she'd suspect my motives were.
"I don't know, to sleep with me again?" she asked, a blush creeping over her cheeks.
"Is that what you want?" I shot, raising an eyebrow.
She took a long time to answer, chewing on her lip as she stalled. I groaned internally, the sight of her biting her lip turning me on. I glanced out the window to distract myself, the night flying by quickly as we drove through the darkness.
"I don't know," she replied finally.
"I don't know why I called you, honestly," I said, not sure how I felt about her response. I definitely did want to sleep with her again because each time was more incredible than the last, but I also wanted to just see her. If she had agreed to meet me and didn't know what she wanted to happen, did that mean she wanted to see me too, even if we didn't sleep together again?
This was why I didn't bother with relationships; they were far too confusing for me to deal with.
"Is it okay that I did?" I asked suddenly, not meaning to say it out loud.
"Yes," she said instantly, responding much quicker than she had to my previous question.
"Okay, good," I replied. She nodded from her seat.
"I don't think you should get back together with Jack," I blurted, unable to stop the words from spilling from my mouth. I clenched my jaw, irritation at myself flashing through me for what felt like the thousandth time tonight.
"Why not?" she asked quietly.
"He doesn't deserve you."
It was something I would never normally say, but I couldn't help myself. I didn't know much about her yet, but I knew she didn't deserve that. I could feel the physical desire for her slowly shifting into a mental one, my want to know more about her growing by the minute.
"Do you?" she asked quietly, so quietly I though I'd imagined it. A quick glance in her direction told me she was watching me closely, waiting for my response to the vulnerable question she'd just asked.
"No, definitely not."
"I'll be here, waiting ever so patiently for you to snap out of it. Under a spell, you're hypnotized. Darling, how could you be so blind?"
Chapter 10
"You don't?" I asked, my heart thudding nervously in my chest. I don't know why this conversation was making me nervous, but it was. It was the first time he had shown me any semblance of emotion or thought besides a blind need for me and my body. I could feel him closing off as soon as he said that, his posture growing stiff and his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he avidly avoided my gaze. I got the feeling he hadn't really wanted to answer me honestly but hadn't been able to stop himself.
He sucked his lips into his mouth before answering me, a frown settling on his face. I could feel my lungs holding in the breath I had taken, afraid that if I made any noise at all he wouldn't answer me. "No."
A spark of irritation lingered beneath his tone, but it wasn't as persistent as I would have expected. I could see how he could be intimidating to a girl, what with his constant flashing between flirtation, charm, irritation, and a hesitancy to speak whenever it wasn't absolutely necessary. It was a lot to deal with, but I had an intuitive feeling that there was so much more to him than he let on and I found myself wanting to know it all.
"Why not?" I asked gently. He continued to stare out the windshield as he drove aimlessly into the night.
The overall tone of the conversation made me wonder what was going on in his head. I was certain by now that he felt the same pull to me that I felt to him, his multiple returns to me making me feel confident of at least that. However, I was beginning to wonder if he had the same stirrings of emotional attachment that had started to burn through me as this conversation we were having now seemed to indicate. Warning signs flashed through my head as I remembered the realization of how dangerous he could be to me if I were to let him, but they were interrupted by his response to my question.
"Because I know who I am and I know who you are and I know I just don't," he said slowly, choosing his words carefully. Confusion rushed through me. He was assuming an awful lot about me if he thought he knew who I was.
"You don't really know me at all, Reece," I reminded him.
"I can tell enough already to know you deserve better than me and you definitely deserve better than that dickhead," he said, anger showing through the cracks of his carefully controlled calm façade.
"See you keep saying that but I don't know why you just assume I'm so... deserving. I could be an awful person and you wouldn't even know it." I don't know where he suddenly seemed to get such a high opinion of me, but it seemed to be stuck in his head.
"You're not an awful person," he said flatly. I sighed. He was right, I knew I wasn't an awful person, but that didn't mean I was too good for him. Or for Jack. My stomach clenched at the thought of him and I shook it off, focusing back on Reece.
"Neither are you," I told him. He might have the whole school convinced he was a player, which seemed to be true, but there was more to him lurking beneath the surface, I could tell.
"I never said I was," he defended.
"No but that's what you're hinting at." It was the only thing I could think of that would motivate this conversation- he thought I was too good for him and that he wasn't good enough. I tried not to stare at him but I couldn't tear my eyes from his profile, the tiniest of movements caught by my unwavering gaze. The muscle in his jaw flexed as he clenched it, and the furrow of his brow was deeper than ever.
"It doesn't matter anyway," he stated, changing the subject. "We're not anything."
My heart gave a painful throb, reacting to his words before my mind caught up. It shouldn't have hurt, but it did. I knew we were nothing more than friends with benefits, for lack of a better term, but that didn't stop the connection I felt to him growing with every interaction.
"I know," I said, determined to keep my voice even. "But that doesn't mean we can't talk like normal people."
"I guess not."
"So talk to me," I urged, wanting him to relax a little despite the sting of his words I still felt. He had called me for some reason, and since he had yet to try anything, I suspected it wasn't really to have sex. Or maybe it had been, but something had changed his mind.
He sighed heavily, annoyed by my pressing. "About what?"
"Why were you so mad earlier?" I asked.
"Not that," he said shortly. I pursed my lips in frustration. If he refused to tell me anything personal I'd start with something basic.
"What are you studying?"
I jumped when a loud laugh burst from his chest, he beautiful face splitting into a wide grin as he threw his head back.
"What's so funny?" I asked in confusion, leaning away from he and his loud laughter in surprise.
"That's just such a simple question from you," he laughed. "I didn't take you for the stereotypical 'what are you studying' type of person."
I frowned, not sure why he found that to be so hilarious and annoyed that he called me stereotypical. The annoyance lifted almost immediately as I glanced at his face once more, lit up from laughter. I was pleased with myself for making him laugh, even if it hadn't been on purpose.
"Well you won't answer anything else," I said lightly, a smile cracking on my lips as well from his contagious grin. He had finally stopped laughing but his face looked the happiest I'd seen it yet tonight.
"Do you actually care or are you just asking to ask?" he said, smirking at me across the seat.
It seemed with that one outburst of laughter his entire mood had shifted, w
hich surprised me but made me happy at the same time. "I actually do want to know, yes."
"Geography," he stated simply before pausing. "You?"
It took him a while to remember that it was polite to ask people questions in return, but at least he had remembered.
"History," I said, waiting for the typical response of 'what could you possibly do with that?'
"That's cool," he said sincerely, surprising me once more. Usually people cringed when I told them I was a history major, saying how boring it was or how much they hated it; it was refreshing to have someone appreciate it for once.
"Thanks," I said proudly, smiling widely. I noticed as I glanced out the window that we had re-entered town, the lights from the streetlamps glowing through the windows of his car. I wondered where he planned on taking me; his choice would tell me a lot- if he took me back to mine and didn't try to come in, I'd only be more confused because that would mean we had just hung out and not actually slept together. If he took me back to his house and things escalated like they usually did, I'd suspect that was the only reason he called me in the first place.
The worst part was, I wasn't sure which option I was hoping for; half of me hoped for one option while the other half hoped for the other. It was terribly confusing and distracting. When I noticed us drive past the street I knew he lived on, elation and disappointment flashed through me simultaneously. I was disappointed that I probably wasn't going to get the chance to be with him again, at least not tonight, but elated that he seemed to be okay with just seeing me without having sex. My mind was flashing in a thousand different directions, trying to sort out my every thought and emotion about this boy all while trying to stop myself from feeling any of those things at all. I was failing terribly at every level.
"Abigail," he said, snapping me out of my head.
"What? Sorry," I said sheepishly, having missed what he said.
"I asked if you're going to that party tomorrow night."
"Oh, I don't think so, I was gonna try and write my paper I have due Monday," I answered without thinking. That made me sound horribly boring but it was the truth.
"Seriously? You're not going out on a Friday night so you can do homework?"
"Shut up," I joked, a blush heating my face.
"Shame," he started. "I'd really have liked to... see you again."
The blush deepened across my cheeks, because there was nothing I wanted more and hearing him say it brought a flush through my whole body.
"I would have, too," I admitted, my heart pounding in my chest once again at my bold words. I wasn't used to admitting things like that to anyone, much less a guy like Reece.
"You could change your mind," he said slowly. He had pulled into the parking lot of my apartment and thrown his car into park before turning his body to face me fully for the first time since he'd picked me up.
"Nothing like going to a party only to sneak away from it..."
His words were stoking the fire burning inside me, his eyes searing into mine from across the seat. I bit my lip between my teeth as I fought with myself. A sudden idea struck me, and I knew I had to stick to my decision to stay in tomorrow. I needed to know if I wasn't around tomorrow, would he still find someone else to go home with? Or would he remain at the party on his own and refrain from hooking up with another girl? Of course, to know this, he'd have to tell me because I couldn't exactly recruit Emily to spy on him without telling her everything, which was something I did not want to do. How could I explain it to her when I hardly understood any of it myself?
"Hmm, you're right, but I have to stay in," I told him as I tried to hide the battle raging inside me- half wanting to cave to him and go and the other half determined to find out what he'd do on his own. I bit my lip again to keep myself from saying anything more. A harsh breath was sucked into my mouth when his hand rose from his lap, his thumb running along my lip and pulling it out of my teeth.
"Don't," he warned, eyes focused on my mouth before flicking up to meet my gaze.
My breathing was uneven now, fanning softly against his hand as he stroked his thumb across my lip once more. When it dropped from my face, I felt an instant longing for him to touch me again run through my veins. It was like he was a drug and I was addicted, constantly searching for my next hit. My eyes dropped to his lips, practically begging him to kiss me. I wanted to feel the burn of his mouth on mine, the way his hand tangled into my hair and the way his tongue slipped against my own. I wanted his hands to run over my body and touch me in ways that only he seemed to know how. I wanted to kiss the bit of his skin peaking out of the top of his shirt, parts of it inked black from tattoos. I wanted all of those things, but none of them came as I sat across from him silently. It occurred to me he was waiting for me to speak, but I had forgotten what we had even been talking about the instant his thumb had touched my lips. His eyes were searching my face intently, his expression unreadable.
"I guess I'll see you around then," he said simply. Air rushed out of my lungs like a deflated balloon; that was about the last thing I wanted to hear, but I didn't want to throw myself at him. Again. Besides, I now had a mission to uphold and sleeping with him again tonight would only make it harder. I needed to know what he'd do if I wasn't there to distract him.
"Yeah, um, see you.... later," I ended lamely. I didn't know what to say because in all honesty I didn't know when I would see him again. It seemed as if our meetings were either at parties or after spontaneous, out-of-the-blue phone calls- very random and very unpredictable. I shouldn't have been disappointed when he didn't kiss me or anything, but I was; I had been hoping I'd receive some kind of goodbye from him, but then again, as he had just stated, we were nothing. My eyes swept over his face once more, his lips in a flat line and his eyes as blazing as ever, yet completely unreadable. My hand found the handle of the car and I let myself out.
"Bye," I couldn't stop myself from saying before starting to close the door.
"Bye," I heard him say just before the metal crunch of the door slamming shut sounded through the parking lot. I turned around and grinned to myself, pleased that he had said it back and not just stared at me like I was an idiot. I let myself into my apartment and found that Emily must have gone to bed, even though I could hear the soft white noise from her TV through her door. After getting ready for bed, I climbed beneath my covers. My mind buzzed with thoughts of Reece, still trying to sort out the endless questions and emotions I had about him. I decided that I would flat out ask him if he brought another girl home whenever I saw him next. It was the only way I could think of to find out, because sending Emily to spy on him seemed like an awful, awful idea. If I was being honest, I had really been hoping he would have decided not to go since I wasn't, but I knew he'd go. He kept reminding me of our nonexistent status, so why would he go out of his way to see me when he could go to the party?
He wouldn't. After several fitful hours of attempting to not think of Reece anymore, I finally fell asleep with the image of his beautiful, annoyingly smirky face drifting across my brain. That night, I had several dreams, all revolving around him but none I could remember in detail when I woke up the next morning. All I could remember was that he had been featured prevalently, and that I had been happy, which only confused me more. I spent the entire next day battling with myself, the selfish side of me desperately wanting to go to the party and see Reece, the other part wanting to stick to my conviction. And, I couldn't deny, a large part of my reasoning for going to the party was so that no other girls could have him. I had taken a while to admit it to myself, but I finally had: I was jealous of any girl who could potentially catch his eye tonight, and I was afraid if I wasn't there he'd take someone else home in my place. I didn't want him to hook up with anyone else. Period. I felt a kind of possessiveness over him, and cringed at the thought of him coming up behind another girl like he often did to me, his large hand snaking up her back and into her hair while his perfect lips assaulted her neck...I shoo
k my head, attempting to rid these images from my brain before I jumped off my couch and ran to the party in my sweats.
No, I had to stick to this. If it turned out he took someone else home, my decision would be much easier; there would be no more of this obsessing over him because it would finally be clear that he really was as uninterested in me as he claimed he was. Aside from having sex, however; he had made that pretty clear that he couldn't resist himself when it came to that with me. I managed to make it until after midnight before I finally gave up on trying to write my paper. My mind was completely incapable of focusing on anything other than Reece and what he was doing at the party. Or worse, not at the party but in bed with someone else. My stomach was twisted in knots at the thought as I tried to distract myself with nearly anything: TV, music, internet, food. Much to my dismay, nothing worked, so I gave up and let myself obsess about him as I laid back on my bed and stared at the ceiling. I jumped when my phone started ringing on the bed next to me, and my pulse quickened in my veins, instantly praying it was Reece calling but knowing it was probably just Emily or someone else.
I took a deep breath as I picked it up and held it in front of my face, my breath catching in my throat and choking me when I saw it was indeed Reece calling me. I stopped myself from squealing with joy and forced myself to be calm as I answered. "Hello?"
"Abigail," his deep voice said from the other end. There was some subdued noise, like he was maybe outside of the party rather than in the thick of it.
"Hi Reece," I replied.
"What are you doing?"
"Um, just finishing my paper," I lied. I was not about to admit I had done nothing but obsess over him all night.
"Stop that and come get me," he requested, his words slightly slurred as he spoke. He was drunk.
"Come get you from the party?" I asked, elation flooding through me that he was still there and apparently had no plans of going home with someone else. Unless he already had and gone back, like he had the first night with me... oh.