Obsessed

by R. J. Lewis

  I blinked. “Oh.”

  Yeah. Oh. Because there was no intelligent response I could come up with against that. He was too mature, even for me, and I was playing catch up.

  “I’m sorry if I upset you, Aston,” I apologized contritely.

  “Don’t be sorry.” But I could tell he was pretty shitty. He sat back up and I stared at his smooth back, at the random long scars from another lifetime ago in the hands of a monster, at his long blond hair plastered to his skin, at his broad shoulders as he kicked his leg up and stared ahead, lost in his own head.

  “What about you?” he suddenly asked me, turning his head to the side, profile in view. “Why aren’t you dating guys already? They tell me you’re hot all the time.”

  “They’re jerks,” I replied as casually as I could. “Most of them are meatheads.”

  “They’re not all jerks.”

  “Yeah, well…” my voice drifted off. I was uncomfortable. Was this how he felt when I demanded answers? I needed to consider the tables turning the next time I blurted shit out.

  “Well what, El? Come on, spit it out.” He was doing this on purpose now, pressing me, that bite present in his tone. “You haven’t been with a guy. Not that I know of. What kind of crap are you into? You can tell me now, you know. I’m going to be gone for your final year.”

  “Look, I said I’m sorry, Aston,” I retorted.

  “Sorry for thinking I’m gay when all these years I’ve…”

  “You’ve what?”

  He just shook his head. “I just can’t believe how ridiculous you are. I bet you only started thinking it when other people brought it up, right? Always lending an ear to rumours –”

  “Don’t be rude,” I interrupted icily. “I don’t lend an ear to rumours. You know I hate drama, and I defended you non-stop these last three years. You’re just pissed because I pushed for an answer, and I won’t the next time I ask you something, alright? I got the message. Now get the hell over it!”

  I slipped back into the water – my way of a dramatic exit – and swam in the direction of the lake houses. I heard him jump in after me, easily catching up to me. He moved in front of me and I splashed him to get out of the way. He just splashed me back and continued to block me, determined to be as annoying as possible. “You’re such a dick,” I said.

  He smiled. “Your exit would have been executed brilliantly if you weren’t swimming the wrong way.”

  “I’m not swimming the wrong way!”

  “Where are you going then?”

  “Closer to the music.” I splashed him again, held my breath and disappeared in the water. I didn’t have to look to know he was following.

  He was always following me.

  We surfaced at the same time just under the last boardwalk. Close enough to shore, I could hear the music blaring loudly and see a small fire on the beach. There were people everywhere, buzzing around the fire pit, eating and laughing, moving to and fro from one gorgeous house and back again. I watched them as Aston settled beside me, staring in the same direction. The music made my bones ache to move.

  “You want to go over there?” I asked him, our fight already forgotten.

  “A lot of alcohol around, El,” he replied on a frown. “I don’t want to have to fight against a crowd of guys trying to get to you.”

  “There are other girls, you know.”

  “You’d be the prettiest.”

  I fought the smile on my lips at his casual compliment. “I just want to dance.”

  “You can dance some other time,” he replied dismissively. “I just don’t want another situation like Deck to happen again.”

  “That hasn’t happened since you decided to come with me. You’ve been protecting me from all that. We’ll be fine.”

  “We’ll do it some other time.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Ugh, Aston, you really must learn to live in the moment.”

  He exhaled. He knew there was no use arguing with me. Looking back in the direction we came from, he said, “You want to go and grab your clothes and we’ll walk back here then?”

  “That’ll take too long. I’m fine the way I am.”

  When he didn’t respond, I glanced at him and found his eyes moving along my body. Not that he could see anything in the darkness, but he was trying to just the same. He immediately looked up at my eyes when I caught him, a fleeting look of guilt crossing his face. With a locked jaw, he looked away from me and back to the crowd on the beach.

  That was a monumental moment for me. Because I saw it. I saw it clear as day. My sweet, rough adoptive brother Aston had just checked me out, and it wasn’t done in a clinical, unfeeling manner either. I saw heat there. I swore I did. Didn’t I? My paranoia reared its head, but I pushed it away, determined to believe it.

  I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him. My heart accelerated as possibilities tore through my mind. What did this mean? Stupid hope emerged and I felt high off it.

  “Let’s go,” I then told him, excitedly, otherwise I’d have swum there for eons, analysing this revelation. “They’re only a little older than us. College kids by the looks of it. We’ll blend right in.”

  “You’re in nothing but your underwear and bra.”

  I scoffed. “Look what the other girls are wearing, Aston! They may as well be naked.”

  “But you’re wet –”

  “It’ll look like a bikini –”

  “You don’t know the kind of creeps out there. So, no. I’m not going to allow that.”

  “Since when do you allow me to do anything –”

  “I said no.”

  “Yes, brother,” I hissed, frowning at the authoritative tone in his voice.

  We glared at each other for several moments. Then I splashed him hard and swam away from him, moving toward the beach. He called out my name but I ignored him as I went. He couldn’t order me around!

  I wasn’t going to be his little sister and do as I was told.

  9.

  Elise

  I was breathing a little hard by the time I waded out of the waters, my hair soaked and sitting just below my waist. Smoke from the fire billowed against me, its heat already diminishing the relief the cool water had given me. I wasn’t aware of it until I was standing by the pit, but a few nerdy looking guys had stopped to stare at me, their mouths wide open, their eyes bulging out of their sockets.

  “Holy shit,” one wearing glasses cursed. “Where did you come from?”

  “Hello, fellas,” I returned, grinning as I looked around, catching the attention of all kinds of people. “Cool party. Where’s the beer?”

  One turned to a cooler beside his camp chair. He pulled out a can of beer and handed it to me. I cracked it open and put it to my lips when it was suddenly torn from my grasp.

  “No alcohol,” Aston growled at me. “Don’t be stupid.”

  “Eh, don’t be rude to her,” another man with a popped collar said. “She’s just having fun.”

  “She’s underage,” Aston retorted, narrowing his eyes at him.

  “I’m eighteen,” I lied, rolling my eyes. “Ignore my brother here. He’s awfully protective of me. Now where’s all the dancing? This music rocks.”

  “In the house is where it’s all at.”

  I winked at Popped Collar. “Thanks.”

  “I can show you the way if you’d like –”

  “Fuck off,” Aston interrupted him as I started to stride away.

  Popped Collar took one look at Aston and immediately backed down. I felt kind of bad. “You don’t have to be a dick, Aston,” I muttered to him.

  Moving toward the lake house, I felt their eyes burning along my figure. Aston followed after me, gritting his teeth. “We were supposed to go for a swim, El,” he angrily said. “Not crash a party.”

  I stopped in front of the house and turned to him. “Look, dearest one, you need to relax and learn to have fun. Stop being so uptight and just…live. I promise you won’t regret it. Dance with me and pretend
no one is watching, okay?”

  He didn’t look convinced. With a sigh, I grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the house. There were couples all over the wraparound deck, drinking and kissing. They didn’t notice us moving past them.

  I’d crashed a few high school parties with Cindy already, and Aston had tagged along every single time, determined to keep a close eye on me so I wasn’t being taken advantage of again. I knew he did it to protect me, but never in those times did he loosen up and have fun.

  He remained anti-social, a goddamn ornament in the background, never participating in conversations or dances. I didn’t get him, sometimes. Wouldn’t he want to participate in some fun every now and then? He was going off to college in a matter of time and he needed to get used to this kind of life, instead of dwelling in libraries and watching time pass by without learning to embrace the cultures of the twenty first century.

  Or maybe I just didn’t understand his love for isolation. I hoped I never would, either.

  Everyone was nice, not an aggressive soul in the house as we entered. They parted to let us through. I got a few dirty looks from girls sizing me up, though it wasn’t like they were dressed any more than I was in their booty shorts and belly tops. Hypocrites.

  The music roared loud as ever as we entered a massive open area, its furniture shoved against the walls, allowing plenty of room for dancing. There were already so many people in here, I could feel Aston’s grip tighten around mine. I brought us in the middle of the room and turned to him. I was smiling so wide, my mouth was sore.

  “Dance!” I hollered at him.

  He didn’t. Not at all. What was wrong with him?

  He just stood there, staring down at me with a blank expression. I wanted to wrap my arms around his neck and sway my body against his, but I knew he wouldn’t react to it. He’d stand still, stiff as a board, and wait for me to finish.

  “Come on, Aston,” I pleaded. “I just want to have some fun.”

  “Then I’ll leave you to have your fun,” he told me.

  I sulked. “No, don’t leave me here. I meant fun with you –”

  “I’m not leaving you in this house, El. I meant I’ll wait until you finish.” At the look of relief on my face, his own softened. “I’d never leave you, you know that,” he promised.

  He left a second later, resting his back against a wall in direct view of me. He crossed his arms and stared at me, a neutral look on his face. For a moment, I wondered if I should just leave. I hesitated, deliberating it, before I caught him shake his head at me and mouth the word dance. When I didn’t, he wagged his brows and mouthed another word. Now. I smiled at him and gave him a thumbs up. Then I waded deeper into the crowd and danced.

  I was a free spirit. Not a care on my shoulders as I spun and threw my hands in the air. Guys flocked to me, but I moved away from them and danced on my own. Dancing wasn’t about eroticism to me, it was about moving to the beat of a rhythm that made my heart vibrate and my body crave the beat. It was pure fun, a way of self-expression that led to an awesome release. I was confident dancing. I knew my body well, knew how to move, how to sway, how to shake my ass. Thank you, Ms Potts for all those dance lessons.

  Mindful of Aston, I didn’t spend a long time dancing. Two songs later, I turned to him, hair in my face, laughter pouring out of my mouth. He was still standing in the same spot, his eyes on mine, like he’d never looked away once. I liked that a lot. His arms were still crossed over his bare chest, looking thick as ever all pressed up against him. His hair was in a sexy, wet mess. He was taller and more solid than everyone around him, catching the eyes of plenty of girls passing by. But he wasn’t looking at them. He was looking at me, and that was all that mattered.

  “Happy now?” he asked me when I stopped in front of him.

  “I’d have been happier if you danced,” I answered.

  “Maybe some other time,” he replied dryly.

  I was doubtful of that ever happening. “I’m never going to have any decent memories to look back on when you leave, am I? You’re just a boring ornament.”

  “A boring ornament? Is that really how you’re going to remember me?”

  “Absolutely,” I teased. “I should throw a pink bow on your head so you don’t scare people away with your brooding against the wall.”

  He looked down at me for a moment, his face stricken with intense thoughtfulness. His eyes roamed my features, and then he gritted his teeth and said, “Fine.”

  “Fine what?”

  “Fine, I’ll do it.”

  Before I could say another word, he took me by the hand and led me back into the crowd. I was so surprised, I could hardly catch up to what was happening until he pressed my body against his and moved.

  Oh. My. God.

  Aston was dancing.

  I laughed and wrapped my arms around his neck like I had wanted to. I thought he’d be awkward, but Aston surprised me more than ever that night. His hips moved, controlling the rhythm of my own body as he took the lead. I gasped in surprise, staring at him with a deer in the headlights look.

  “When did you learn to dance like that?” I asked him, though my voice was swallowed up by the party house mix.

  He smirked devilishly. “I’m not a priest, El.”

  He continued his fluid movements, and I went along with it, still floored by this other layer of him. His hands roamed down my back, stopping just above my tailbone before moving back up again. They were controlled and cautious touches, never too erotic, but still sexy enough to get my blood pumping harder. His head dipped and his face pressed against the side of mine. His hot breaths blew against my ear and I could feel it all the way down my body, making my toes curl.

  My hands tightened against his neck in a sort of needy way. A hand tangled into his hair, gripping it tightly. I pulled away from him enough that I could look into his eyes. He looked straight at me, his eyes dark and smouldering, his lips parted enough I could see the way his tongue slid against the inside of his bottom lip.

  Don’t you feel what we have together?

  “Can I cut in?” I heard a voice shout.

  Aston pulled away, and we looked at a pretty blonde, staring directly up at him with a sexy smile on her face. She was confident, not even acknowledging me like it was a given I would be tossed to the side. I fucking hated that. Hated girls that trivialized relationships, and, okay, we weren’t in a relationship, but I’d been a breath away from kissing him, and she just intruded like she had every fucking right to.

  I won’t even deny the jealousy that cut me deep. In a split second, I imagined stepping back and giving him to her. I imagined his hands along her thin hips, his fingers moving below her tailbone without caution, and his face pressed against the side of her orange foundation-mask of a face. Was this girly girl enough for him?

  I wanted to escape and drown in alcohol. I’d done it once when I found Dad’s whiskey in the basement and had a few gulps with Cindy. But then Aston found out and it was all doomsday gloom for days. I’d fought him about it, told him I was only young once and wanted to try new things. In the end he only allowed beer, and only when he supervised.

  I started to look around in search of some messy people playing beer pong or some shit when I heard Aston’s response. “No,” he said firmly, causing me to switch my gaze back to his in disbelief. Had he really said no to orange-face girly girl? Then he turned to me and pressed me back to him, dismissing the girl entirely.

  It felt fucking amazing.

  I smiled brilliantly the second he dipped his face between my shoulder and neck, moving to the music without skipping a beat. We were flesh against flesh, the wet drops on his bare torso brushed against the wet drops on mine. We were the only two souls drenched in that room, and we stood out like two white dots in a sea of black.

  I was in heaven. This was the best night of my life, hands down.

  After two more songs, he took me by the hand and led me away from the room. I thought we were going back ou
t, but he turned a corner and we went down a crowded hallway to a gorgeous, large kitchen with skylights.

  “I heard them say there was cake,” he explained as we stepped into the thinly occupied room. “Someone’s birthday, I guess. Anyway, you love your cake. Grab a cut before we go.”

  There was a marble kitchen island, its surface covered in half-demolished trays of cakes and pastries. It looked amazing, even though it was technically wrong crashing a party you were not invited to, dancing around strangers, and then eating someone else’s cake. But let’s not start counting our sins, right?

  I smiled at him. “How thoughtful.”

  His lips spread just a bit, enough to be a smile in my books. I grabbed a paper plate and cut a piece of the vanilla cake with that many inches of frosting on it. “Happy Birthday Chri” it said as I placed the piece with the letter “s” on my plate. Thanks, Chris. Then I turned back to Aston. “Okay,” I said, “let’s go.”

  For a brief moment, he didn’t look at me. His eyes were over my head, narrowed and hard. When I followed, I saw a man in the corner of the kitchen with a couple of his friends. He was staring at me, openly checking me out from top to bottom before smiling at me.

  “It’s a good cake,” he remarked, and it wasn’t lost on me how suggestive he sounded. It came off totally creepy, and I suppressed the shudder I felt crawling at a snail’s pace down my spine.

  I nodded kindly, though I really didn’t care to answer. “Hope so.”

  Then I turned back around, grabbed Aston’s hand, and walked out. He was quiet as we left the house. He led me to the board walk all the while not saying a word. I didn’t like the silence, and I wondered if he was upset with me for taking him into the house.

  You’re a selfish bitch, Elise.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, staring down at the cake as we took a seat on the ledge.

  “For what?” he asked.