With You: With you, I am who I want to be.

by Jensen Kristyne

  Shit. If she knew what I did, she’d probably never speak to me again.

  And her dad would have me arrested.

  "Oh shit." Wes slaps my arm. The grin on his face immediately darkens. "There’s your distraction, man."

  I turn and look over my shoulder as I watch Katrina's slender frame break the tree line. Fuck, how the hell did she find me? The last thing I need tonight is her whiny ass hanging all over me.

  It must have been Wes, I think to myself. My legs move before I've even finished talking. Of course he did. He invited everyone. I lean down and grab a beer. "I hope you brought enough beer."

  "Hey, handsome," Katrina coos as she strolls up to where I'm standing.

  I shoot Wes a lethal glare, but the coward retreats back to Becks before I could do anything further. Asshole. Lifting my beer, I take a swig and feel the semi-cool liquid glide down the back of my throat.

  "What the hell are you doing here, Katrina?" I ask plainly.

  "Well, to see you of course." She smiles, her right hand reaching up to snatch my beer from my hand.

  Her eyes scan the crowd around us as she tilts her head back and chugs a few sips. She hands it back with a force, and at the moment, I don't know who’s more disgusted—me, because she’s practically stalking me, or her after tasting room temperature beer.

  Katrina purses her lips and gasps when her eyes fall to a certain blonde. "I see the brat’s here," Katrina groans. "Remind me again why you entertain these peons?"

  "Katrina—" I raise my voice in warning for her to tread carefully.

  "I know, I know," she interjects, waving her hand in front of her as she does. "She's your ex-besties, little sis," she groans again. "I just don't see why that matters."

  I close my eyes and try to remain calm. Fuck my father for making me put up with her. He's such a prick.

  "Theo!" I turn, hearing Wes's voice trail across the pit. "Get your ass over here."

  Without question, I excuse myself and work my way towards Wes. Maybe Katrina might leave if I ignore her long enough. Along with Becks, I find Wes is seated within a large circle of random people—Brielle and Luca included.

  "What's going on?"

  "Sit your ass down, Wescott," Wes slurs, leaning back. He wraps his arm around Becks's waist and pulls her onto his lap, pointing to her empty spot on the log. "We're going to play a game."

  "Oh, I love a good drinking game." Katrina works her way around the opposite side of the circle and takes a seat. "Which one? I could go for some Truth or Dare. . . or a little Seven Minutes in Heaven, perhaps?"She winks at me but I turn away. Why am I not surprised those are the type of games she wants to play?

  "Ah. . . no." Wes squints, half laughing. "We're playing, Never Have I Ever."

  "Oh."

  "Yeah. Okay. Does everyone have a drink?" Wes yells around the circle. "Good. . . now, who wants to start?"

  "I will!" Becks yips, all too eager as she squirms atop Wes's lap.

  I press my lips together and try not to say anything when her legs part, and I see she isn't wearing any underwear. I shake my head. How the hell are her and Brielle friends? They’re nothing alike. Wes definitely has his hands full with her.

  "Hmm, Never Have I Ever . . ."

  "Maybe we should start with someone else," Luca groans. "We could be here all night."

  Oh shit.

  I silently laugh, but others aren't as concerned about being heard. I watch as Brielle turns and swats Luca's arm. Her eyes are piercing as she glares at him. It was definitely a fucked-up thing to say. Never have I ever been so impressed, I silently think and shake my head. Luca looks up and catches me watching, but I just offer him a sly smile.

  That’s right, asshole. Keep it up.

  I need all the help I can get.

  "Ha. Ha," Becks says. Her cheeks are slightly red, but otherwise she seems unaffected. "Never have I ever been a dick."

  I roll my eyes and take a swig of my beer. Here we go. Becks may not have been talking about me, but there’s no denying I am a dick more often than not.

  The game ticks on, eventually taking on a whole new level as more and more people take their turn. By this point, Brielle's taken all of one sip, and even then, I’m not sure how much I believe it.

  I drop my head and laugh as I begin to form a mental list of all the firsts, I'd love to help her explore—if she really is as innocent as she portrays to be. But I doubt it. Not with Luca always lurking about.

  "Hmm, never have I ever . . . been in love," a random girl admits.

  The circle erupts with laughter, but I can't find the humor. It’s then I catch Luca tilting up his beer and downing a good portion as he locks eyes with my girl.

  I suck in a breath.

  Now that’s hilarious.

  "Your turn," I hear Wes say, his attention directed at me. “Theo? Did you hear me?”

  "Yeah, I heard you," I groan and push a hand through my hair. What the hell am I going to say? "Ugh. . . never have I ever. . ." I start, my eyes searching for something I could use when I quickly spot Brielle sitting across from me. Her blonde waves fall over her shoulder and hang there, while Luca leans into her side to whisper something in her ear.

  Jesus, that guy just doesn't give up.

  I lose myself for a second, when those full lips of hers pull into that perfect fucking smile. But it's a moment that barely lasts longer than a second, before I remember who it’s really for.

  "Never have I ever kissed Brielle." The words fall out of my mouth before I have a chance to really think about what I said at all—or what I’d do if anyone were to move to take a drink.

  I watch from my peripherals as Brielle whips her head towards me, her mouth slack and her eyes wide.

  Oh yeah.

  She’s pissed.

  She’s going to kill me for this, but the look on Luca's face is worth it—his bugged-out eyes, and clenched jaw. But it’s also not enough.

  "Oh, wait." I grin, lifting my drink and taking a nice, long gulp. I watch Luca press his lips together as he squeezes the beer bottle in his hands. I can tell that my little white lie is slowly killing him on the inside. And I love it.

  “Excuse me?” Katrina snaps from her seat. Her eyes wild.

  "Theo," Brielle snaps, and I try not to think too long about why the idea of us kissing would be this upsetting to her. If she wants to get technical, it’s not that much of a lie. We did kiss. Well, I kissed her—her neck. The corner of her mouth.

  But then Luca raises his cup and takes a sip. The action causes Brielle to avert her eyes.

  "Oh. My. God." Becks bursts out laughing, wriggling within Wes's grip. "I fucking love this game."

  "Really, Becks," Brielle exclaims.

  "Right, well, I guess it's my turn." Luca turns to Wes then, sporting a stupid-ass smirk.

  Wes nods as I clench my hands. I’m dying to hear what this goody-goody has to say.

  "Hmm. What to say. Oh, I know . . . how about, never have I ever killed my best friend . . .”

  chapter fourteen

  BRIELLE

  I close my eyes and suck in a deep breath. No. . .no. . . no. This is not happening. Surely, I’m just drunk. I can feel my inner mind reeling as I choke on how thick the air has become.

  "Oh shit," Becks is the first to break the silence.

  I open my eyes and jump up when I hear Theo's voice drawing near. "You just don't learn, do you?"

  "Theo, wait," I beg him, but he's moving too fast. "Theo!"

  I turn in time to watch Luca stand from his seat just before Theo lands a punch straight across his jaw. The sound is deafening, and it echoes across the field.

  A few of the girls around us start to squeal, and with it, the circle splits. If I were smart, I'd follow suit and leave the two of them to finally hash out whatever issues they’re hiding, but my legs refuse to move.

  "Wes! Get in there!" Becks calls from beside me, as a flash of blonde pushes by. "Do something!"

  I blink in time to
watch as Luca hits the ground—his face a bloody mess from the long gash that now lines the top of his cheek. It's not until I'm standing in front of Theo that I realize I’ve moved at all.

  "What the hell, Theo?" I yell at him.

  I can hear my voice catch but I ignore it. I use my hands to shove him back as Wes continues to try and pull Theo away from the group. Theo's eyes snap down to meet mine head-on.They're wide with shock. Then, his lips part as if he were about to say something, but he stops himself.

  Luca takes in a shallow breath, and immediately I bend down to sit by his side. “Oh thank God.” My shoulders sag in relief when I see he seems to be okay.

  "You’ve got to be fucking joking." Theo chuckles before adding, "Fuck this! I'm out of here."

  I turn my head to the side and watch as he brushes Wes off his arm. He tosses his beer into the fire pit, then starts walking toward the tree line.

  "Becks, help me." I wrap my arm around Luca's waist and help him sit up. Leaning against the log, Luca tilts his head back, his cut bleeding heavily.

  "It looks worse than it is," he whispers softly, a small smile playing along his lips. "Face wounds are always the worst."

  I shake my head and slap his arm.

  Hard.

  "Ouch! What the hell was that for?"

  "For being an idiot!" I yell, rocking back on my heels to stand up. "This is just as much your fault as it is his." I turn to Becks. "Make sure he doesn't bleed to death; I'll be back in a minute."

  "Brielle, wait!"

  I follow the path I saw Theo take, ignoring Luca's blatant attempts to have me stay, and step into the thick brush of the tree line. Crap. My inner mind instantly recognizes where I am. I close my eyes and take a breath. Of course he'd come here. This was their spot. I can’t count the amount of times I found Theo and my brother out here—rarely alone if I remember correctly, which was never a fun part for me.

  I take another step, noticing how overgrown it’s become. I haven’t been up here since that night, five years ago. It’s strange how it feels like that was just yesterday—like if I keep walking, I’ll eventually run into Mason and his famous brotherly glare he liked to use, when he felt I was intruding on “guy time.”

  I hear a branch snap, and my mind snaps with it.

  "Not now, Brielle," The irritation in Theo’s words is clear, as they trail from somewhere up ahead. "Why don't you do us both a favor and save whatever speech you've come to give for your boyfriend."

  I shake my head and bite my lip. Boyfriend? Seriously? "Luca is not my—ugh . . . you know what? You’re impossible. Haven't you learned better by now, than to tell me what to do?" I laugh and take a couple of steps further.

  I don’t know why he’s so insistent upon the fact that Luca and I are dating. We’re just friends. I also don’t know why I can’t admit that. Maybe I like the thought of Theo being jealous, because, at least then I know he still cares?

  I blink hard, letting my eyes adjust as the moonlight comes in sprays through the treetops behind us, and I finally see how close he's standing to the edge of the cliff.

  "Theo, please . . . just talk to me." I hear my voice stumble before I realize that it's my own. The sound of his name on my lips is weighted with an emotion I can't place.

  Twisting within his stance, I watch as he turns towards me, his eyes shaded as he walks over to where I'm standing. "What do you want, Brielle?"

  "To talk? I guess," I say, shrugging my shoulders, confused as to why I keep making an effort, when he clearly doesn't seem to care.

  He’s so hot and cold with me, it’s hard to read him. One minute he’s rude and pushing me away, and the next, he’s pushing me up against a wall, kissing my neck and sparking feelings and sensations I’ve never felt before.

  Theo is Theo, I remind myself. Handsome. Annoying. And complicated.

  "I- I don't know. Never mind." I roll my eyes and turn to walk away. "This was obviously a mistake."

  "No. Wait. Don't go." He sighs. His fingers folding around my wrist as he grasps it and pulls me back to face him. "Please. I'm sorry, okay?"

  "Don't do that," I snap and pull away from him.

  "Do what?"

  "Don't feed me some stupid apology because you think that I'll forget what just happened."

  He crinkles his brow and shakes his head, a wry smile playing along his lips. "That's not what I'm doing."

  I purse my lips together and take a few steps back. Behind us, the music picks back up as the party carries on without us. Everyone else may be able to forget, but I can't.

  As if reading my thoughts, Theo drops his eyes to the ground, his expression growing serious. He kicks a rock.

  "What the hell just happened?" I ask when I can see he’s retreating back into his thoughts. "Talk to me."

  "And tell you what, Brielle?" he finally says. His tone is more aggressive than I expected. "The guy was being an asshole so I hit him. End of discussion. I mean, fuck. What do you want from me?"

  I tilt my head up at him and tap my foot. "So you don't think you started it with the whole “never have I ever kissed Brielle” thing?” I glare at him. "What was that?"

  As I watch the tension build behind his eyes, I can see he's struggling within himself. The moonlight behind me shifts and illuminates the features of his face, making the hazel color of his eyes appear as if it’s been washed out.

  "I don't know why I said that," he says, but I can tell he’s lying. What is he hiding? "Why were you avoiding me?"

  Avoiding him?

  I wasn't avoiding him.

  "Don’t be insane. I wasn’t avoiding you . . . I was . . . just hanging out with Luca."

  “That’s a load of bull.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. I wonder what Mr. Perfect would think if he knew that you were practically panting for me to do something to you back in your parents’ bedroom.”

  I suck in my bottom lip and bite it. Hard.

  “I wasn’t panting! You’re the one who keeps shoving me into walls and kissing my neck. You’re sweet one second, then a jerk the next. What the hell do you want from me, because I can’t keep up?”

  "I don’t want anything from you."

  I take a step back and set my eyes on him. Not for the first time, I struggle to recognize the old Theo under this mask, which he seems to put on when he feels attacked. I get it. A lot has changed since Mason’s death. Even I have had to bury certain parts about myself in order to move forward—to be the better daughter for my parents. But I never thought he’d drift so far. Be so cruel. Especially with me.

  “Fine. Then why don’t I do us both a favor and leave.”

  “Do whatever you want,” he challenges then, raising his voice. His expression is cold and emotionless. "Run back to Luca. It’s what you're good at."

  I feel my eyes growing wide with shock as I let his words sink in. A knot forms in the base of my throat and I swallow it. "I don't need this." I turn around, but before I can take a step, he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me to him without permission or apology. “Let go, Theo, or I'll scream."

  "You should scream," he says, and I know he means it. "I'm no good for you. You should be with Luca. Mason was right."

  I close my eyes and relax my body against his chest, tilting my head back to look up at him. I can feel his heart beating as his eyes zero in on my mouth.

  "If you didn’t want me, then what the hell have you been doing?”

  "You think that I don't want you?" I feel his grip loosen as the words fall from his lips.

  I crinkle my nose and take advantage of the moment to spin around inside his arms. My hands rise to steady myself against the hard muscles of his chest.

  "What else am I supposed to think? You said it yourself back at Knock Out: “It meant nothing anyways.” That it was all just a little fun."

  Theo drops his head back for a second, like he’s debating how to answer my question, when, instead of pushing me away again, he wraps his h
ands around my wrists. He leans forward, his forehead resting against my own as he meets my gaze. He tightens his grip, then guides my hands down his torso . . . then lower, until they fill with the length of him.

  "Never doubt that I want you, Brielle. Believe me, I do."

  I release a breath I hadn't known I was holding and lick my lips. The muscles along my stomach clench as I feel a pressure build between my thighs. I squeeze them together trying to stifle the sensation, but it does little to help.

  God, how does he always do this to me?

  "I-I want you too." I hear the words slip from my lips.

  His hands release their hold on me, which I know is his way of offering me control over what happens next. I can feel the warmth of his breath caressing my cheek. My heart is pounding a mile a minute.

  A handsome smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, as his eyes slowly travel down the front of me. I feel my cheeks heat up, when the crisp night air picks up, and a breeze carries through the trees. It briefly helps to soothe the heat rising in me. I don’t want anything from you, his words flash like a warning across my mind.

  I take a wary step back.

  "Maybe we should—"

  But before I can finish, I feel his hand push into my hair, while his lips crash against mine.

  As he kisses me, his tongue sweeps across my bottom lip. I moan into his mouth, but he swallows it with his whispered words. “Kiss me, Brielle.” His tone is pleading—so, I do.

  His arm encircles my waist. He walks us backward, and I jump when I feel the massive stone wall brush the back of my legs. Its hard, cold exterior is a nice relief from the heat he provokes. I move my hand to his chest, but he grabs it and presses it next to my head. With his free hand, he bends down and pulls my right leg up to his waist. His hips rock into me with a measurable force.

  "Fuck, Brielle," he groans into my neck, his breath, warm against my skin. My nipples pucker under the weight of his words.