Anything to Have You

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Anything to Have You Page 14

by Paige Harbison


  Then I called Aiden.

  “Hey, babe.”

  “Hey...” I said. “I feel like shit. I don’t think I can do anything tonight.”

  “Feel like shit? How?”

  “Like puking. Natalie was sick recently, too. I think I caught whatever she had.”

  “Natalie was puking?”

  “Yes, duh, remember at lunch she was sick?”

  “Yeah, but I thought she was just...I didn’t realize she actually threw up.”

  “Yeah.” Why was he so stuck on that? “Well, anyway, I’m sick now, too, I guess the bug is making its way back around...I’m sorry, can we reschedule and do it some other day this weekend?”

  My heart was pounding with the lie, and with my new, exciting plans.

  I expected him to call me out on being hungover that morning, or on the fact that I sounded like I was lying. But he didn’t. “Yeah, that’s fine. It’s your birthday.”

  It occurred to me that this was also the moment where he would usually offer to come take care of me. It would be an obstacle if he offered...but he didn’t.

  We really weren’t the same anymore.

  “Thanks for being so nice about it....”

  “Yep. Well...feel better.”

  “I will. Just need rest probably.”

  “Probably.”

  Awkward silence.

  “Okay...well, I’ll call you tomorrow or something.”

  “Yup.”

  “Okay, bye.”

  And he hung up.

  I texted him immediately.

  I hope you’re not mad...

  It’s fine. A couple of people were going to meet up to hang out later with us, so I’ll do that.

  Cool. Tell Natalie not to get me sick anymore! I assume she’s going right?

  I hoped the light tone of the last text would undo some of the guilt of me blowing him off and whatever he had planned. He didn’t answer right away, but finally he said, I’ll check.

  Next thing, I was pulling off my dress, standing in my room in a black strapless bra and matching lace underwear, looking at my texts to Reed and his response.

  So. What are we doing with this bottle?

  Supposed to drink it, stupid. You wanna do that together?

  Yep.

  My nerves twisted with excitement as I saw a new message.

  Don’t you have to meet your boyfriend?

  I hated how he was unafraid to bring up Aiden—the last subject I wanted to discuss with him.

  I don’t have to do anything i don’t want.

  I’ll come get you in forty.

  My stomach churned like snakes slithering through gravel. I retouched my makeup, making my eyes a little smokier. I picked out a new outfit. Black, almost completely see-through tights, a black skirt and dark red bralette top. I topped it with a cropped leather jacket.

  I gazed in the mirror. I looked hot.

  What was this nervousness I was feeling? When I sat, my foot shook anxiously. I was biting the lip plumper right off my bottom lip. My stomach felt concave with tension.

  I opened my bag and pulled out the bottle I had found in my locker.

  I unscrewed the lid, put the bottle vertical to my lips and gulped a couple of times. I took one more than I knew I should. But screw it. I needed to toss my nerves out the window.

  It felt like three days before I heard the roar of his car outside. The asshole didn’t come up to the door, or even text me to let me know he was there. I waited a couple of minutes before realizing he was fully aware that I was watching for him.

  What a dick.

  I passed by my mom, who was working on her laptop. She and my dad had no plans tonight. Typical. The exact, lifeless marriage I wanted to eventually avoid having. My mom was tired from her business trip, and my dad had worked all day, so my birthday had barely been acknowledged beyond the promise that we’d do something for it in a few days.

  “Mom, I’m going out with Aiden.”

  She finished typing and then looked up at the clock. “It’s pretty late, Brooke.”

  “It’s Aiden, does it matter?”

  I could tell she was too tired to really fight with me.

  “Don’t get back too late, all right? I have to get some rest tonight, and I can’t stay up all night worrying about you.”

  These sentences from my mom always threw me for a loop. It was almost affection, but dripping with such irritation that it fell short.

  “Got it. ’Night.”

  I walked down the pathway in front of my house, making sure I didn’t teeter in my wedges, and climbed into the passenger seat. He took a drag from his cigarette and then tossed it out the window.

  “Hello, Miss Sweet Eighteen.”

  He sped off, so loud it probably would have concerned my parents if they hadn’t so confidently thought I was going out with Aiden.

  “Let’s not even talk about my birthday, shall we? It’s not like it matters.”

  “Guess not. Why aren’t you with your boyfriend or your BFF, though? Would have thought you would be.”

  I shrugged. “It’s just not a big deal to me. I’ll celebrate with them this weekend.”

  “Gotcha.”

  “Where are we going, by the way?”

  “McShul’s.”

  “Isn’t that a bar?”

  “Yep.”

  “And...we can get in?”

  “Yep.”

  “How’s that?”

  “I know everyone who works there, and you are my hot plus-one. We’ll be fine.”

  I got the slightest, Natalie-ish butterfly of nervousness in my stomach before playing it cool. “Sweet. Who are we meeting?”

  “Some of my friends.”

  The implication was that I was not going to know them. I did well with groups of new people, but something about being charming ol’ Brooke in front of Reed made me feel slightly silly.

  He turned up the music and lit another cigarette.

  Why had he even wanted to see me tonight? Was it a joke? Or a test to see if I would ditch my boyfriend for him? Was I doing exactly what he expected?

  I really didn’t want to seem like one of the girls he lassoed in before letting them go. The dumb little ninnies who let him walk all over them, bending to his every whim. Except Natalie, who had really needed the break from logical thinking.

  “Let me get a jack,” I said, extending my hand.

  Finally, a note of surprise on his face. But he said nothing about it, just pulled out a cigarette and handed it over. He flicked his lighter and lit it for me.

  It was pretty far from Cary Grant, but this is a new age.

  This wasn’t the first time it had been valuable to me to fake it with a cigarette, so luckily, I knew what to do and how not to start coughing and turn blue.

  Hating the way it made my head immediately spin, I asked, “So, why aren’t you with some girl tonight?”

  “I am, aren’t I?”

  “You know what I mean. One who will actually bang you at the end of it.”

  He looked at me and gave me that genuine, boyish grin. “I am, aren’t I?”

  I gave a laugh and inhaled. “Um, not even kind of.”

  The small lilt in my voice made me sound—even to me—kind of like a little girl saying, “Ew, boys are so gross.”

  He looked back to me, giving a quick glance from my knees to my eyes, and then said, “That’s okay. Wasn’t banking on it.”

  I rolled my eyes, my tongue in my cheek.

  We got to the bar, got in with no problem and met his friends. I tried to be confident, but found myself taking a slight backseat. Something I never do.

  Reed left for a few minutes. I saw hi
m talking to another girl, and then he vanished and returned with two shots and two drinks.

  He handed one of each to me.

  He raised his shot. “To your birthday.”

  “To just another Thursday.”

  He smirked and then we both downed them. He went back to talking to his friends, leaving me alone to find my own way with these people.

  I ended up in conversation with a nice enough girl, Kelly.

  “So are you guys, like, dating?” she asked, indicating Reed.

  “Oh, God, no. Why...would you even ask that?”

  “Because.” She shrugged. “He doesn’t really bring girls around that often.”

  “Right. Well, I mean, he’s not even talking to me right now.”

  “That’s how he is. It might even mean he likes you more. If he didn’t, I bet he’d be trying to fuck you in the bathroom.”

  “Man, am I flattered.” I laughed, and we cheers’d with our drinks.

  A while and a few more finished cocktails later, I went to the bathroom and snuck in another shot order on the opposite side of the bar. Some nasty-ass old man hit on me, but I shrugged him off with a thank-you and a smile.

  As I waited for my shot, I was struck by a sudden pang of guilt—my first one. What was Aiden even doing right now? I was off with some other guy—not only another guy, but someone Aiden really disliked. He had hated Reed ever since finding out about his treatment of Natalie. He was very cut-and-dried about how girls should be treated by guys. And he’d always been pretty great to me.

  Guilt guilt guilt.

  I paid for my shot, drank it and went back toward our table.

  Reed intercepted me before I got there and pulled me over to his bar stool. I stood between his knees.

  “I thought you left.”

  “Would you blame me?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I mean, you’re over talking to whoever, and I’m all by myself!”

  “You were talking to Kelly.”

  “So? I don’t even know Kelly.”

  “So, why does it matter where I am?”

  I shrugged. “Guess it doesn’t.”

  His smile faded a little and he dropped his gaze to my lips before pushing back a little by my hips. His hands remained there.

  “Sorry I wasn’t paying you enough attention, princess.”

  “Totally fine, asshole.”

  I couldn’t help but smile back, despite my narrowed eyes. That’s what we were. An asshole and a princess. There was something I kind of liked about that.

  As the conversation grew more flirtatious with Reed, and our faces grew closer, thoughts of Aiden went further and further from my mind. Would I regret doing something with Reed, or not doing something with him?

  Part of me knew that I wouldn’t hesitate if given the chance. I wasn’t noble enough to say no.

  He pulled me close to say something in my ear—my memory started to get pretty blurry here—and his lips brushed against my skin just enough to make my breath catch.

  He said one thing, then put his hand on my spine under my shirt and pulled me closer. I responded and ran my thumb along his jawline. He spoke, and I found myself looking at his mouth. His teeth were white, and though a little crooked, they were good teeth. And his lips...I didn’t even want to kiss them. I just wanted them on me.

  I realized at one point that I was holding his hand on his thigh. I only noticed as he let go, moving his to my hip bone again with his finger on the inside of the top of my skirt.

  “You are such a fucking player,” I said, not stepping away. In fact, I moved my hips a little closer to his.

  “Am not.”

  “Oh, of course you are. And you’re trying to play me, which is illogical and ill-advised.”

  “I can’t play you. In order to play you I would have to make you a promise first.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Yeah, it is. Other girls hook up with me because they think I’m going to give them more than I am. It’s a promise, even if I never say anything.”

  “Right, and with me...”

  “With you, you’re already taken, aren’t you? No chance here that we’re going to be something, and we both know that.”

  I hesitated, trying to figure out his intention by the words. “Right. That among a slew of other reasons. The boyfriend thing...I mean, he may not always be my boyfriend, so that doesn’t really count as an obstacle.”

  “And what are my obstacles as far as getting you to let me fuck you?”

  I hated the excited chill the words sent through my heart right down to my thighs.

  “Uh, mostly the fact that I would never do that?”

  He looked up at me, standing in front of him, his eyes strangely and intriguingly intense. He pulled my hand up his own thigh to feel how badly he wanted me. It was the biggest I’d ever felt, and when you’re me at a homecoming or prom or you have snuck your way into a club, you have a lot of opportunities to accidentally find out what your dance partner is packing.

  I couldn’t help but take a deep breath and let my lips part as I looked back into his eyes. The intensity of them made me want to see how serious he could be. Not all laughs and jokes, but serious passion.

  The facade dropped for both of us. It was obviously not a game to get the other one to be into us. We didn’t hate each other. Or maybe we did, but either way, we definitely wanted each other.

  I didn’t know what my next move should be. It definitely wasn’t to hook up in the bathroom. But before I had a chance, he decided for us.

  “We’re leaving. Grab your jacket.”

  I’d never been told what to do before. No one dared. At any other time, or maybe with any other person, I would have argued with his brash tone. But I didn’t want to. I kind of liked it.

  I did as he said, and followed him out to the car.

  My vision was worsening, and I was definitely starting to teeter in my shoes. I got into the car and boldly put my hand on his thigh. He held it, and I squeezed his leg.

  I wanted him badly.

  I pulled my hand away and leaned my head against the seat belt. The window was a little open, because he was smoking. The air hit my face, cooling me off. I hadn’t even realized I was flushed.

  To allay the guilt I was starting to feel, I texted Natalie.

  We drove for about fifteen minutes, music pounding. We finally rolled to a stop, and I opened my eyes to find that we were at my house.

  I turned to him.

  He shook his head. “You should get some sleep.”

  The rejection hit me hard in the gut. Dammit. Was he serious? It was one thing to feel slightly rejected last time. This was a big one.

  “Um. Okay?”

  “It was fun.”

  I put my hand on the handle, but paused and turned back to him. “What the hell is your deal?”

  He shrugged. “Nothin’.”

  I stared at him, looking for some sign of something in his face. But there was nothing.

  I shook my head, a stunned smile on my face. “All right, then.” I took a deep breath and opened the door. I turned back and leaned in the open window.

  “You know you’re a fucking idiot, right?”

  He shrugged and messed up his hair.

  “It seems a bit fucked to try to bag a girl on her birthday, just because she’s blasted. Especially once she passes out.”

  Oh, so this was a nice gesture?

  “Hah. Wow, well, okay. Thanks for looking out for me, then, Reed.”

  “Anytime, Brookes.”

  I wished I still had the door to slam as I turned away and went back to my house, feeling completely rejected.

  At least he’d stopped call
ing me Skinny.

  Part III

  NATALIE

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  March 21, the morning after sledding

  WHEN I AWOKE to the gray light and the repeating Vertigo DVD menu at 6:00 a.m., Aiden had an arm wrapped around my ankles. I didn’t want to move. I savored the moment, watching him, and then tried to get back to sleep. I don’t think I ever did, but still, I lay there until 10:00 a.m. with him. When he shifted, I...pretended, I guess, to wake up.

  “Hey,” he said. He looked slightly regretful. This caused guilt to rise in my own chest.

  “Hey,” I said back, and sat up. I ran my hand through my hair. It felt like a bird’s nest, and I was sure it looked worse.

  By the light of day, it seemed so obvious that we shouldn’t have hung out like we had the night before. Nothing had happened. But that wasn’t the most important issue. The important issue was whether Brooke would feel weird about Aiden staying over.

  We both knew she would.

  He picked up his phone and rubbed his face. I watched him read something and mutter, “Dammit.”

  I remembered my own phone and looked to see that I had a text from Brooke asking if I wanted to come over in a little while. She had only sent the text half an hour ago.

  “She texted you, too, huh?” he asked.

  “Yeah. She wants to know if I want to come over later.”

  He nodded slowly. “Guess she’s feeling better.”

  “Hangovers go away. Amazing, huh?” I gave a small laugh.

  “How, um...how are you feeling? Brooke said you were throwing up a little while back.”

  “Oh...yeah, I’m fine. Must have been a bug or something. I don’t know, maybe stress? My body handles stress in weird ways.”

 

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