I don’t say a word because he’s right.
I can’t deny it.
“I’m sure you’ll walk out of this room as if I don’t affect you,” he continues, his voice growing stronger, his hand falling away from my cheek. “You’ll go back out to your friends and act like nothing happened. Or you’ll tell them we got into an argument. They’ll call me all kinds of names and you’ll agree with them, but deep down, you won’t be able to stop thinking about this.”
He kisses me deeply, his tongue stroking mine.
“Or this,” he whispers against my lips as he thrusts against me nice and slow, his hardness pressing into my softness. I bite back the whimper that threatens to escape, not wanting him to know just how much he affects me.
He has to know though. My panties are wet. Can he feel them? And the way I kissed him. So eager and willing.
I sort of hate myself right now.
“I hate you,” I whisper, my throat aching. I don’t hate him. Not even close. I hate what he did to me. I hate how he pushed me away and made me feel like utter garbage. I hate more that I’m back in his arms and giving in so easily.
But I also love him. I love him so damn much, it hurts.
I hurt all over.
“Keep telling yourself that,” he whispers, his mouth settling on mine briefly before he pulls away. Slowly he lowers me to the floor, where I land on wobbly feet, and he lets me go completely, backing up a couple of steps. “Go.”
I blink up at him, trying to control my shuddery breaths.
“Go on, get out of here,” he urges, his voice hard as steel. “Before I do something we both might regret.”
Scrambling for the handle, I push open the door and stumble out of the bedroom, striding down the hall with my head bent, my hair covering my face. My mind is awhirl with about a million emotions, none of them I can fully comprehend. I don’t know how to feel, I don’t know what to tell my friends, and I sure as hell don’t know how to pretend that nothing just happened between Eli and me.
Somehow, though, I’m able to function. Lifting my head, I find myself in the living room, my friends watching me. They all look worried, especially Jocelyn. I approach the dining table, smiling and shaking my head at a cute guy who asks me if I want a beer. I’ve never seen him before in my life, but the moment I walk past him, I hear Eli tell the guy, “Leave her the fuck alone.”
I don’t stick around to hear what else is said.
“What happened? Are you okay?” Hayden asks when I collapse into the empty chair.
“How long have I been gone?” I lift my hand, my fingers still shaking as I run them through my hair, hoping I seem nonchalant.
“Fifteen, twenty minutes, I think?” Gracie shrugs. The other girls nod their agreement. “Did you two have a fight?”
“Yes. We argued.” It’s just like Eli predicted. “It was…we got nowhere in our conversation.”
Hey, that’s not a lie. Our conversation really went nowhere.
Jocelyn touches my arm. “Did he upset you?”
“No more than usual,” I say with a shrug. Her hand falls away. “Why do you ask?”
“Your face is really red. Like you’re mad or—something.” She sends me a searching look and I glance away, uncomfortable with her scrutiny.
I don’t want her thinking something else happened. I’m not going to tell them Eli kissed me. And that it was the hottest kiss we’ve shared in…
Forever.
Nope, I’m keeping that little fact to myself.
I fill them in briefly on the argument, only offering up the main points: he still doesn’t think he’s done anything wrong. I still think he’s a jerk. They all nod in agreement and lightly insult him with the exception of Gracie. Her silence is so obvious that Hayden finally has to say something.
“Are you really not taking our girl’s side here?” she asks Gracie.
“Hey, I just lived with him for a year,” Gracie says. “I witnessed the demise of their relationship.”
I wince. What a way to put it.
“Meaning you witnessed him being a complete raging asshole,” Hayden mutters, sending me a ‘don’t worry, I’ve got your back,’ look.
“He really wasn’t that much of an asshole,” Gracie admits. “Yeah, he overreacted and should’ve never made her choose. That was a dumb move on his part. But he suffered over it. A lot.”
I hate hearing that. I want to believe he didn’t suffer at all. That I’m the only one who took the brunt of our breakup while he went about his business as if nothing ever happened between us.
It’s easier to believe that’s how it went down, because I’m the victim in that scenario, which garners sympathy and….
And since when do I want to play the victim?
“Do you regret coming tonight?” Jocelyn asks, her face full of concern.
“No.” I shake my head. “I don’t regret it at all. That first conversation between us after the breakup needed to happen. Maybe…eventually, we can be friends.”
Doubtful. I can’t be just Eli’s friend. Not after he kissed me like he did.
I don’t know what to do about this. About us.
So I’m going to pretend nothing ever happened. It’s easier that way.
Safer.
The hairs on my arms prickle with awareness, as if someone is watching me, and I glance over my shoulder to find it’s Eli standing with his friends, a beer clutched in his hand and a thunderous expression on his face. He doesn’t look away from me. He just stares, as if daring me to do something, to say something.
I stare at him in return, half tempted to go to him. But that would be stupid.
So stupid.
Instead, I turn back around, smiling at something Hayden says, even though I have no idea exactly what it was. I nod and laugh, grateful I haven’t had a drop of alcohol tonight. I experienced that kiss with Eli completely sober, and God, it had been so good.
Freaking magical.
It’s been a long time since I’ve been held by someone who isn’t my family or a close friend. I crave closeness.
Ugh.
I crave Eli.
Even if I can’t have him.
Ever again.
Seven
Eli
“Women fucking suck.” I chuck the basketball straight at Caleb, who makes a groaning noise when it smacks him in the abs. “Let’s go.”
I chase him down the basketball court, trying to steal the ball from him, but the fucker is fast. Sometimes we like to play one on one, just to change it up, and our apartment complex has an outdoor court that no one ever uses—except for us.
Like now. On a cool Sunday afternoon, when we should be chillin’ or working on homework or what the hell ever. Instead, we’re dribbling up and down the court, antagonizing each other playing a sport neither of us are particularly good at, but because we’re elite athletes, we’re pretty fuckin’ good.
I slap the ball out of Caleb’s hands and spin, racing toward my hoop, shooting the ball a little earlier than I normally do when, lo and behold, that thing hits the rim and bounces through the hoop.
“Take that!” I yell at Caleb with a laugh.
He grabs the ball and starts jogging to the other side of the court, deceptively at ease. I know the second I lunge for him, he’ll probably send me falling on my ass. “Show off,” he mutters as he passes me.
I run halfheartedly behind him, not one hundred percent into it. I drank too much last night and woke up hungover this morning. I also can’t stop thinking about Ava and her mouth.
All I want to do is kiss it.
My dream girl has turned into my worst nightmare. She wants me still. Last night’s entanglement proves it. Fuck, I want her too. But I’m still mad—and I’m sure she is too. We may have talked, but we didn’t resolve anything.
Not a damn thing.
I have a good feeling about this though. About us. At the very least, we can use each other for sex for a while.
I frown, stop
ping in my tracks as I rest my hands on my hips.
What the hell? No, I will not just use her for sex. We’re more than that. I love that girl. She lives in me. That sounds corny as hell, even in my thoughts, but it’s the damn truth. She’s everything to me.
Everything.
Caleb takes the ball all the way to his basket and sinks it into the net with ease, the ball bouncing on the ground. He snatches it from the air, turning to look at me as he continues dribbling the ball.
“You all right?” he asks.
I nod, not even bothering to steal the ball from him, even though it’s rightfully mine. “Can I ask you a question?”
He frowns, still bouncing the ball. “Sure.”
“You ever uh…just have sex with a girl but not want a relationship attached to it?” I rub the back of my neck, feeling like an idiot for asking.
“Pfft.” Caleb makes a dismissive noise, passing the ball straight to me. I catch it before it can do damage to my abs, like I did to him only moments before. “I invented that game. Baylee, remember?”
“Oh right.” How could I forget? He kept that girl on a string since high school, and only ended it when Baylee told him she was done. We were already halfway through college by then.
“We were total fuck buddies, though I know she caught feelings.” He frowns. “I regret how badly I treated her.”
“Well, now she’s practically married to Carson,” I remind him.
“Isn’t that crazy? That guy never impressed me much, but they’re still going strong.” Caleb shrugs. “I’m happy for her.”
That’s great and all, but I don’t want to divert from the real question that’s lingering on my tongue.
“How were you able to never catch feelings for her?” I ask, my voice light. Like this conversation is no big deal.
Caleb watches me, his eyes narrowed into slits. “You got someone in mind to be your FWB?”
I frown. “FWB?”
“Friend with benefits,” he explains.
I start bouncing the ball, warming up to practice a trick I learned and perfected in seventh grade. “Nah.”
“Liar.”
“It’s true.” I shrug and bounce the ball harder, until I flip it into the air and stick my middle finger up, balancing the fucker right on it. “Check this out.”
“Not bad,” Caleb acknowledges before he runs up and bats the ball away. “Who you got in mind? There are girls lining up to get with you, bro. The pull is strong this year. We’re seniors. We could have anyone we want.”
We both watch the ball roll across the paved court, until it bounces against the black wrought-iron fence, coming to a stop.
“Do you want anyone else?” I ask him, just to make sure.
“Nah. No way. I’m happy. Gracie is my girl,” he says with boastful confidence. I remember feeling that way. So sure in my relationship. Positive she was going to be mine forever.
Now look at me.
“That’s great,” I say, and I mean it.
I’m also envious. I want that back.
I want it with Ava.
“After our encounter last night, I’m thinking that’s what Ava and I can be,” I say. Caleb frowns at me in confusion. “Friends with benefits.”
“What? You gotta be fucking kidding me.” Caleb says, an incredulous look on his face before he busts up laughing.
He laughs for at least a minute. And the longer it lasts, the angrier I get. Until I’m tempted to grab that basketball and throw it in his smug ass laughing face.
“What the fuck is wrong with that?” I finally ask him.
“You’re delusional.” He shakes his head. “Seriously, what are you thinking? You two were in a relationship for four years, and now you think you’re going to be fuck buddies? Unbelievable.”
“It could happen.” I shrug. Deep down, I know he’s speaking the truth. “She still seems into me.”
If by being into me, I mean she wants to murder me, then yes.
She’s totally into me.
“What went down between you two last night?” Caleb asks, his laughter finally dying.
“We talked.”
“And…”
“That’s it,” I say, realizing at the last second that I don’t want to share with him what else Ava and I did last night. It feels too personal to reveal. And a little messed-up. We shouldn’t have kissed.
Then again, we should’ve. It’s like we can’t help ourselves, and I suppose that’s our issue. We still want each other. Our love for each other is deep. We’ve been through a lot together. It’s hard to just—quit that.
“Now you think you two can just randomly hook up, here and there? With no feelings attached?” Caleb raises his brows.
“Oh yeah.” I wave a hand like it’s no big deal. “We’ve always had chemistry. I’ve got no one in my life right now. Neither does she.”
At least, I don’t think she does. Can’t think like that though, or I’ll get furious quick.
“Like I said, you’re delusional.” He jabs his finger in the air, straight at me. “You’re still in love with her.”
“I still care about her,” I correct, because no way in hell am I admitting to Caleb that he nailed it on the head.
I’m still in love with Ava.
What if she’s still not in love with me?
“Keep telling yourself that,” he says with a snort. I’ve lived with this guy for a while now. How did I not notice how fucking annoying he is before?
Wait, I did. He’s just extra annoying at this very moment.
“She’s living at home until the spring semester. She’ll go back to San Diego in January,” I explain. “Why not try and hook up, now and again? We’ll run into each other constantly, thanks to our mutual friend group. And it’s pointless to hate on each other. I could never hate Ava. Am I still mad at her? Hell yes.”
“Is she still mad at you?” Caleb asks.
I remember her blazing green eyes and the things she said. She got some real zingers in too, aiming straight for my heart. And my ego—which she thinks is too big. She even called me the most selfish person she knows, and we know a lot of jackasses.
That stung. When it came to her, I was not selfish. As in, I gave her whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted it. I adored that girl. Worshipped her.
I still do.
“Yeah, she’s still mad at me,” I finally admit.
“Maybe you can fuck the mad out of each other,” Caleb suggests, as if that’s a perfectly logical solution to our problem.
And you know what? I like that answer. I like it a lot. But would Ava be down?
Probably not.
“I don’t know,” I say, wincing at how uncertain I sound. That’s not how I roll. I’m certain of everything, or at least I pretend to be. “She probably won’t agree.”
“The good ones usually don’t,” Caleb says with a slow nod, reminding me of a sage old soul. Which is some straight-up bullshit because I would never describe him in that way. “Just tell her how you feel and make it happen, Eli. I know you can do it. Pretty sure you two can work this out.”
“Yeah. Doubtful,” I say, my turn to snort this time. “She was still pretty angry with me last night.”
“You kind of deserve it,” Caleb points out. “You could’ve survived without her for the summer.”
“Maybe not,” I say, getting irritated all over again. “She hasn’t put me first in a long time, Caleb. And that was just…the final straw.”
Caleb is shaking his head, his expression one of pure disappointment. How I wish I had the basketball still in my hands so I could smack him in the face with it. “You’ve got this all wrong.”
“And you don’t know shit.” I stride toward the fence, snatching the basketball off the ground before I run down the court, jumping high and slam dunking that motherfucker, my fingers curling around the rim.
When I turn, I find Caleb still watching me, his hands on his hips, an annoyed look on his face. “You’re a
cting mad at me, when I know you’re really mad at yourself.”
“Whatever.” I jog toward him cautiously, my gaze locked on his hands. I know how he operates. He’ll try and steal the ball from me. “Maybe I should just leave it alone. I’ve chased her enough.”
The moment the words leave my lips, they feel familiar. I remember saying something similar to her when we were first together.
I was such a prick then. I swear I’ve changed. I’ve grown-up. Matured. I am solid. On top of the world. I’m not about to let a woman I’ve loved for the last four years of my life, a woman I’ve given my all to, run out on me once and for all and never look back. I have to fight for her. For us.
But how do I make this right?
“Hey!”
I turn to see Gracie and Hayden making their way toward us. Dread fills me, settling in my gut and I steel my spine, preparing myself for the verbal blast I’m sure they’re going to give me. Gracie is my homie, but she’ll side with Ava on this matter, and when she’s with Hayden? Forget it.
They’ll both come for me.
Caleb takes his advantage, swiping the ball from my hands and dashing down the court like a madman. He sinks the ball through the net within seconds, screaming in victory at the top of his lungs and making me wince.
He loves to rub it in.
“Ladies,” I say to Gracie and Hayden as they draw nearer. Their expressions are open, not full of bitterness or hatred and I take that as a good sign. “What brings you out here this fine afternoon?”
“Him.” Gracie points at Caleb and I watch as they make their way to each other, Gracie cozying up to him despite the reluctant expression on his face.
“I’m sweaty,” he warns her.
“I like it,” she murmurs before their lips meet in a kiss.
Gross. I feel like I’m eleven and watching my older brother, Ryan, kiss on one of the many girls he chased after. I didn’t understand why any guy would be interested in girls when he had sports and video games—I thought he was crazy. Girls were a mystery to me, one I wasn’t interested in.
Fast forward two years and they were an enigma I was dying to figure out.
Still don’t have them figured out, if I’m being real right now.
The Senior (College Years Book 4) Page 6