Braeden was so gentle. He was so thoughtful. It almost seemed the longer we were together, the more careful he became.
I’d always thought maybe it was the other way around. That a guy would be more careful in the beginning until he really got to know a girl.
The thought didn’t last very long because pleasure took over all thought. Only after, when I was tucked into his side, securely in his arms, did I think about the way he always asked my permission, how he was never rough, and how he spoke about always wanting to respect me.
He loved me. Irrevocably.
But was there something more?
Chapter Twelve
Braeden
“Can I ask you something?”
That question was pretty much the kiss of death for a guy. There was no good conversation that began with those words.
But if I said no, all hell would break loose.
If I said yes, then I’d have to think very, very carefully about whatever answer I needed to give.
There was also another factor here: the after sex fog.
It was a real thing. Oh boy, was it ever. Ask any man and he’ll agree. See, there’s a window of time in the minutes after a man has awesome fucking sex that he’s at his most vulnerable.
A time when his body is in a relaxed, blissful state. One might compare it to being high, just not the chemically induced kind. The orgasm kind. It’s during this window when a man is so satisfied he doesn’t think before he responds.
Well, that and he’s pretty fucking pleased with the woman in his arms.
I was currently suffering from ASF. My brain didn’t even warn me I was stepping into dangerous territory.
“Hmmm?” I answered, dragging my fingertips up the length of her spine.
Ivy moved slightly and the blond strands of her hair tickled my bare chest. “You’re always very gentle with me.”
“Precious things should be handled gently.”
And that is exactly what I’m talking about. I, Braeden J. Walker, was no good with words. But those were some mighty pretty ones. I would get the credit for saying them; however, those words weren’t courtesy of me.
It was the after sex fog.
I meant them. No truer words had been spoken. But if I’d been in my right mind, I wouldn’t have been able to say such a thing so eloquently.
“Is that all it is?” she asked.
Something inside me shouted a warning.
“Wait,” I said, sitting up slightly to lean against the bulkhead. “What are we talking about right now?”
Ivy flattened her palm over my chest and propped her chin on top. “The first couple times we had sex felt a little different.”
The fog blew away. Like it literally disappeared. “Are you saying you aren’t satisfied… in bed?” I had to practically croak out the words. It was blasphemy! I was a legend in bed.
Ivy’s gorgeous cerulean eyes widened and she sat up with a gasp. “No!” The tops of her porcelain cheeks turned bright pink, and she tugged the blanket up around her bare skin.
I wrapped an arm around her, pulling her against my chest. “Tell me you like my cock.”
A laugh bubbled out of her chest. “I am not saying that.”
“Why the hell not?” I demanded.
Ivy stretched up and kissed the corner of my mouth. “You’re the best I’ve ever had, Braeden. I didn’t even know it could feel like this between two people.”
I studied her.
A slow smile split her lips. It made me want to kiss her.
But I had to stand firm.
Giggling, she pushed away and sat crossed-legged at my side. Her pinky finger appeared in front of my nose.
“Ivy.” I mock-gasped and pressed a hand to my chest. “No, I will not pull your finger.”
She hit me in the head with a pillow as I guffawed.
“Pinky swear!” she demanded once I chucked the pillow away.
A pinky swear to girls was the equivalent of a fist bump for guys. I couldn’t leave my girl hanging, so I wrapped my pinky around hers.
As she shook our hands, she vowed, “My best. My last. My only.”
If I were stranded on an island somewhere, with no food and no water, it wouldn’t matter. I could live off those words.
Pulling on our joined fingers, she fell forward and I kissed her. “I like that,” I whispered against her lips.
She was slow to sit up, but when she did, I saw the question in her eyes. “It was rougher the first couple times, more…” I watched her search for the word she wanted. “Urgent.”
So she noticed.
She noticed the before and after.
I guess I should have known this would happen. Ivy was more perceptive than people gave her credit for.
Caressing the top of her cheekbone with my thumb, I replied, “It was different, baby. There’s a difference between having sex and making love. Our first few times was sex, but everything afterward is love.”
Her eyes softened. I let out a silent breath. I made it through the questions without any injury.
“Sometimes I feel like you’re scared to touch me.”
So softly spoken yet so incredibly loud.
Just like a true battle. Just when a man thinks he’s home free and a landmine goes off.
“Ah, baby.” I pushed up and pulled her into my lap. I breathed in the scent of her hair, felt the familiar weight of her in my lap. “I’m not scared to touch you.”
I didn’t know what to say. This was a time words couldn’t fail me. She needed them; she needed reassurance. The only way I could give her that was to reach deep.
“I’ve never been in love before. You stir emotion in me I didn’t know was there. The thought of hurting you in any way makes me physically ill. I would die for you, baby. I would kill for you. I would give you the last breath in my body just to give you another heartbeat of life. Of course I’m going to be careful when I touch you. You’re basically my beating heart walking around outside my chest.”
The sheen of tears in her eyes was unmistakable. I watched with bated breath as she chewed her lower lip.
Well, shit.
Clearly, when I reached deep, that’s what I unearthed. Shit. And now she was crying.
“Don’t cry.” I spoke softly as I wiped a tear trailing over her cheek.
“I seriously love you.” The words came out in a cross between a moan and a wail. “That was so beautiful.”
She collapsed against me, and I smiled into her hair. I guess it wasn’t shit after all. Ivy sniffled, and I couldn’t stop the laugh escaping my chest.
“Don’t laugh at me!” She poked me in the ribs.
“Let me hold you,” I scolded her, even though it didn’t hurt at all.
Exhaling, she surrendered. Her breathing turned even and deep after a while. I still held her close.
Even though everything I said tonight was the truth, I hadn’t admitted it all.
I used a beautiful truth to conceal an ugly lie.
The lies weren’t getting any easier to tell.
In fact, they were getting harder.
The truth stuck there right in my throat, just waiting to be set free. I couldn’t help but wonder how much longer I was going to be able to keep it locked away.
Chapter Thirteen
Ivy
We spent the night right there in the bed of his truck, curled under the blankets, beneath the glittering stars.
We woke up to the sun rising over the mountains, staining everything with a blush-pink shade. We stopped for lattes on the way back to campus and we rode in silence, but he held my hand. It was the best night we’d ever spent together—well, except for maybe the first night we came together during spring break.
Or the night he turned the dorm into the beach.
Braeden and I might not be perfect, but I felt closer to him than I had in a long time. Nothing could interrupt the glow of happiness inside me.
At least I thought.
Then the n
ew semester started.
Classes resumed.
I was reminded there was life outside of the boutique, my friends, and Braeden. It was a part of life I had to allow.
After all, summer couldn’t last forever.
I made it the whole first week without seeing Missy. Actually, I almost made it two. But near the end of the second week, my luck ran out.
Of course, I knew she was around. Her stupid Buzzfeed notifications hit my phone several times a day. I thought about deleting the stupid app and not following her at all.
But a girl had to be prepared.
I’d rather see her hate coming at me than walk around campus and hear snickers only to wonder if they were about me.
Her notifications weren’t so frequent during the summer, but as the start of the semester neared, she started up again. It was almost like she wanted to remind people of the #BuzzBoss so she would have the same kind of “cult” following during the New Year that she had before.
I just didn’t understand it. As more time passed, I was afraid I never would. How could she? How could she do so many terrible things to the people who called her friend?
She was the worst kind of poser there was.
At least with Zach, you knew he was an asshole. But with Missy? She pretended to like you. She pretended to be your friend.
I saw now it was only a ploy to get gossip for her stupid feed.
I stepped out of the building, grateful my final class for the day was over. I glanced down at the letter that had been given to me by my professor. It was from the school. The pressure to declare a major was officially on. I needed to do it like right now. So said the entire staff of Alpha U. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t graduate at the end of next year. I needed time to fulfill the credits focused on my field of study.
Too bad I had no idea what that was going to be.
I opened the flap of my crossbody and stuffed the paper inside. I’d deal with it later.
A group of kids (probably freshman) came blasting right by me like they were being chased, and I had to swerve to avoid being taken out. When I looked up again, she was standing not so far away, her gaze locked on me.
I gave her a frigid look, one I hoped would tell her in no uncertain terms where I wanted her to go. I tossed my head so my hair would flip behind me, a total mean girl move, but I didn’t care. She deserved a lot more than a nasty hair flip.
I yanked my eyes away, not letting them linger. I wanted her to know she wasn’t worth the effort. I passed beneath a large black iron clock sitting near the sidewalk, with several benches around it. It had a lot of character, with a lantern-style shape at the top, a large white and black face on it that had yellowed slightly with time. The base tapered down into a thick black pole that sank directly into the ground.
It was still early afternoon, but I had stuff I wanted to do before my shift later at the boutique, so I was anxious to get off campus.
“Ivy.” The familiar voice made my shoulders tighten. Ugh! Didn’t she get the memo? I didn’t want to talk to her.
“I’m busy,” I said and kept moving.
“You don’t have five minutes for your old best friend?”
I stopped and pivoted on the heel of my leather short boot. “Old,” I emphasized. “As in no longer friends. If we ever actually were.”
She was dressed in a pair of dark skinny jeans, silver flats, and a gray slouchy boyfriend sweater I saw online at Victoria’s Secret. Her hair was still looking cute in the lob style. Today she had one side pinned pack behind her ear while the other waved around her perfectly made-up face.
“I honestly thought you’d have a lot to say to me. I didn’t expect you to just cut me off,” she said as she approached me, closing the distance between us and stopping right in front of me.
“Last time I tried to talk, you slammed out of the room faster than a cat being given a bath.”
“You weren’t talking to me,” she said, the look on her face pinched and kinda dark. “You were talking to him, feeding him a line of bull just so you could wrap him further around your finger.”
Oh. My. God.
She was still jealous. It was totally killing her that Braeden was in love with me. Last semester, the thought would have killed me. I would have done anything not to hurt Missy, but not anymore.
Yeah, I hurt Missy. But it wasn’t intentional. What she did to me? That was totally thought out.
I snorted, not caring a bit that I sounded like Rimmel. There were a lot worse people I could be like.
For example, the one I was looking at.
“Clearly, my version of that day is a lot different than yours, Miss,” I said, wincing a little when the nickname I used slipped so easily off my tongue. “I have no words left for you.”
“Not even a why?” She lifted her chin in challenge.
Sadness overcame me all of a sudden. It seemed like she cared about explaining herself a lot more than I did. Didn’t she understand? “Sure, I’ve wondered why you did it lots of times. Why you stabbed me in the back. Why you hurt Rimmel—”
Missy rolled her eyes dramatically. “Please. I helped her. I practically made her a campus celebrity.”
I shook my head. How I never sensed this side of her I would never understand. It made me feel like maybe I was a lousy friend because I hadn’t known her as well as I thought.
Nope.
Stop.
Don’t do it to yourself.
Missy’s psycho behavior was not my fault. Not even a little. She and she alone was responsible for the shattering of our group.
“I might have wondered why,” I began, meeting her eyes and staring at her directly. “But in the end, no reason you could give would ever be enough for me to forgive you.”
Hurt flashed across her features. “You act like you’re the only one who got hurt.”
“No.” I refused. “I know I’m not.” This conversation was totally bringing me down. “I have to go.” I moved away.
“This conversation isn’t over,” she called behind me.
I turned around, still walking backward away from her. “Just put it on the Buzzfeed. It’s what you do best.”
That shut her up.
Could it be? I thought sarcastically as I turned away and headed toward the parking lot. Could my forgiveness not be as important as keeping her true identity a secret?
I laughed out loud. It was a sardonic, amused sound. I felt a few stares turn my way. I didn’t care. I was too busy being shocked and, okay, maybe slightly hurt.
I should have known by now to expect this of Missy. Shouldn’t I? After all, I learned the truth about who she was deep down last semester. Still, this small part of me remained shocked every time she did something to prove it all over again.
When I first saw that flash of hurt in her eyes, the way she seemed to genuinely want to talk to me today, I thought maybe it was sincere. That maybe the girl I’d spent so much time with the past few years really was in there somewhere.
But the more she talked, the more I realized Missy was still angry at me for becoming involved with Braeden. She was like a professional grudge holder.
It only served to remind me that her hurt and anger gave her motive. Motive to hurt me all over again.
My phone buzzed, and I pulled it out and looked down.
My steps faltered. She took my advice and put up a new notification. I knew exactly who she was talking about. She was trying to goad me, to get a reaction.
It wasn’t going to work.
If she thinks I’m fake, she should take a long look in the mirror.
I planned to stay as far away from Missy as I could get.
Chapter Fourteen
Braeden
Football was in full swing.
The Wolves were holding their own so far this season, and morale was high amongst the team. I’d never say it out loud, but I wondered how camaraderie and even performance would fare with the absence of our leader Romeo. The new quarterback wasn’t rea
lly new; he’d always been on the team. He just never got to play because Rome did. He wasn’t a bad guy or a bad player. He definitely wasn’t as good, but he still played well enough.
A couple of the guys remarked that maybe the new quarterback wouldn’t be doing as well if I hadn’t been there all the time to stop the other team from rushing him and taking him down. I was aggressive and a lot more ruthless this season, or so they said.
In my opinion, I was always aggressive, but maybe I was just a little more ruthless. Football was a good outlet for all the shit I felt and couldn’t express otherwise.
It was after a game, and all of us were sweaty and sore. I was stripping off my gear when the coach passed by and patted me on the shoulder. “You’ve been playing hard, Walker. It looks good on you.”
“Thanks, Coach.” I grunted and turned back to my stuff. He meant it as a compliment, but for some reason, it didn’t feel like one.
I glanced in the small mirror hanging inside my locker and studied my face. It seemed like an insult that aggression looked good on me. Hell, I knew I wore it, but I tried to hide it. I thought I was the only one who saw my father when I looked into the mirror.
Did everyone else see him too?
Sure, they would have no idea who they were seeing, as I still technically looked like me. They’d never seen my father before, but I had. His face was branded in my mind. More and more, I saw him when I looked at myself.
More and more, I felt like a poser.
Pretending to be a good guy when who I really was deep down was the guy Coach saw on the field. I was the guy my teammates were starting to refer to as The Incredible Hulk.
After I showered off the residue of the game, I fished around my bag for some clothes. Everyone was going to Screamerz tonight to celebrate the successful start of the season. It was the first time since the semester started that we were all hanging out together.
After tonight, our traditional bonfires out in the field would be an every weekend thing.
I couldn’t say I was especially looking forward to them this year, and it wasn’t because Rome wasn’t here.
#Poser Page 10