by Monica Cole
Both of us stand there and I don’t know what I’m waiting for. I guess I’m waiting for him to say something. Give me an explanation. An apology. Tell me everything’s okay. But he doesn’t. He just stares at me and as the minutes tick past, I finally can’t take it anymore. Without giving him a second glance, I leave the studio. He doesn’t call my name and he doesn’t follow me. And I hate him even more. For letting me walk away for the second time like I mean nothing. For making me wish he’d never walked into my life. I hate him. But I hate him even more because I know it isn’t true.
Chapter Seventeen
Past
July 27th, 2013
“I can’t believe we’re leaving for college in less than a month,” Whitney says from the driver’s seat of her new Volkswagen Jetta. It’s a graduation gift from her grandparents in Florida. I think I got a few cards.
“And I still can’t believe Canyon bought you that dress.” She eyes my outfit enviously before making a turn into Canyon’s neighborhood. “It’s gorgeous. I wonder how much it cost.”
I don’t know. And I don’t want to. When Canyon showed up at my house with the skin tight white dress a few weeks ago, I had a conniption. I don’t like him buying me things, especially when I know they cost ten times more than our house payment. But I’m a girl. And no matter how many times I told him to take it back, I couldn’t help but fall in love with it. He even got matching shoes - flats, not heels, because he knows I’d kill myself walking in them. Eventually, he convinced me to wear it and I caved because I want him to be happy. It is his party after all.
Whitney parks along the cul-de-sac, between an Audi and BMW. All the vehicles look expensive, but that’s because Canyon’s friends go to St. Paul’s. I’ve met a lot of them over the past year and most of them aren’t as bad as they’re made out to be. That or Canyon just picks the ones who are less of an asshole.
It’s 8:00 and the party is in full swing when we walk inside. It’s over the top. Everything is decorated in black and gold, St. Paul’s school colors. The lights have been replaced with black lights and strobe lights flash from the living room that’s been cleared out for a dance floor. Some kind of weird techno rock music is blaring, but not loud enough that you can’t hear over it.
Whitney squeals beside me. “Oh, my God! Look at your dress.”
When I glance down my mouth drops because my dress is no longer white. It’s splattered with glow in the dark paint that looks like a million tiny glow sticks.
Whitney loops her arm through mine and I lead her to the kitchen. After we fix our drinks, we go back to the foyer, striking up conversation with a few guys. When one of them asks me to dance, Whitney jabs me in the ribs as a threat that I’d better not say no. I guess one dance won’t hurt. I haven’t seen Canyon anywhere and he’s probably busy playing host. The guy introduces himself as Trey, then takes my hand and leads me to the living room. It’s hot and loud, bodies crushed together, making the enormous room look ridiculously small. He places his hands on my waist and pulls me close, his hips grinding against me. I’ve never danced before, even with Canyon, so I’m not sure what to do. Trey smirks and takes my arms, wrapping them around his neck, then puts his hand on the small of my back, shoving me against him.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?” He eyes my mouth and I resist the urge to roll my eyes.
“Elaine.” I answer with mock sweetness. “So don’t call me sweetheart.”
His smirk curves even higher. His teeth are so bleached and white, they’re almost blinding. “Hm. Feisty. You got a boyfriend?”
“Does it matter? You’re probably still going to hit on me.”
He chuckles, hands sliding dangerously low on my back. “As much as I’d like to taste that feisty little mouth of yours, I’m still a gentleman.”
I snort. Because I can feel his hand moving to my ass as he talks. As soon as he touches it, I reach around and grab his wrist, taking a step back.
“If you want to grab ass, start with the one you’re wearing on your head.” I release his hand and flip him the bird as I maneuver through the crowd. I’m at the door when I feel hands on my waist, jerking me back into the room.
“I told you to…” My words die off when I spin around. Canyon is right behind me, looking perfect in a white button down and black pants.
“Sorry. I thought you were…”
“The guy you were just dancing with?” He interrupts, grinning ear to ear. “I heard the whole thing.”
I furrow my eyebrows. “I didn’t see you.”
He steps closer, sliding his hand up my ribs. “I was behind you.” He whispers, pressing his mouth against my ear. “Wondering how a complete stranger got you to dance when I’ve been trying with no luck for the past year.” His voice is rough, vibrating through my body and giving me goose bumps.
His nose skims down my neck, the heat of his breath swarming my skin. I quickly pull away before I forget we’re in a crowded room, surrounded by people.
“Someone sounds jealous.” I quirk an eyebrow and he drags me to him by the bottom of my dress.
“Kind of hard not to be when some other guy has his hands on you.” Our bodies bump together and I hold in a gasp when his hand touches the back of my thigh. “Did I tell you how much I like this dress?” He gently squeezes my leg, fingers slipping under my dress.
I shake my head.
“Good.” He says. “Because I don’t like it. I fucking love it.”
He dips his mouth back to my ear and kisses it lightly. “Dance with me?”
All I can do is nod. Which doesn’t really matter since he’s already dragging me through the crowd. He stops in the middle, right under the chandelier, then snakes his hands around my waist, settling them on my hips. They’re big and warm and I can feel each fingertip dig through my dress with a heat that brands my skin. He licks his lips, catching the bottom one between his teeth. We’re moving. So slow that I barely notice it at first. I realize this is probably for my sake since I have no clue what I’m doing. But he does. Holy crap, does he know. I keep my eyes on his chest as he moves my hips in sync with his. Back and forth. The front of our bodies occasionally bumping together. It feels like all my nerve endings are rubbing together, creating this intense friction that I feel on every square inch of my body. It’s good. Intense. But I want more.
He’s still taking it slow and I imagine we probably look weird. Compared to everyone around us, our dancing is tame. It makes me wonder what it would feel like to dance like them. How it would feel to dance like that with Canyon. Even though I’ve only had one beer, I blame what I do next on the alcohol because I don’t know how else I would’ve mustered up the courage. Taking a deep breathe, I place my hands on Canyon’s chest, dragging them up and around his neck, tangling my fingers at the bottom of his hair.
He works the muscle in his jaw, his body going ridged when I lean into him, making sure he feels me just as thoroughly as I feel him. Inside and out. Past his bones and into every cell. His hands grip me tighter as I begin to move. He isn’t guiding me anymore and it doesn’t take long for his body to match my rhythm. He drops his forehead against mine, his breathing heavy and fast, cascading down my face. It’s hot and smells like mint. It makes my mouth tingle. Everywhere tingles.
“You’re fucking killing me, Elle.” His words turn the tingling in my body up ten notches. Before I can respond, he has my ear between his teeth. He bites. Hard. “Turn around.” He commands, his voice nothing like I’m used to. It’s sharp and direct, laced with urgency. I don’t like being bossed around but I like when he does it. I like everything he does. Especially when he…
My back slams against his and he doesn’t hold back. Grabbing my arms, he wraps them around his neck while his free hand slides down, over my breast, my stomach, my waist. Both his hands are on my waist and when my ass grinds against his hardness, I moan. I moan so loud I’m afraid everyone in the room can hear it. My eyes dart around frantically but it’s as if everyone is in the
ir own personal world. I know I am. Right now it’s just me and Canyon sharing our first dance. I don’t know why I ever hated dancing. I love it. It might actually be my new favorite thing.
As soon as I feel Canyon’s hand at the top of my thigh, my concern about the people around us vanishes. He drags a finger up the inside of my leg and when he gets to the bottom of my dress, he slowly pushes it up. “I need to touch you.” He breathes against the side of my neck. “I need to show you how beautiful you look right now because I don’t think I have words.”
That’s all I need to hear. Unlatching my arms from around his neck, I turn to face him, making sure not to break eye contact. If lust had a face, it would be his. His parted lips and ruffled hair. His brown eyes that don’t look so brown anymore because they’re so dark with want. Need. I need him. Grabbing the front of his shirt, I walk backwards from the room, dragging him with me. The house is packed tight with people but I don’t see any of them as we go upstairs, down the plain white hallway to his dull white room. He shuts the door and trails his eyes down my body like he’s trying to figure out how he wants to go about getting me out of this dress.
I decide for him.
I reach behind my back and undo the zipper. It slacks off my shoulder and I peel the straps down, one by one, until the dress hits the floor in a whish of air.
Air that seems to get sucked right out of the room as he looks at me.
He takes his time crossing the room and by the time he reaches me, I’m on the verge of losing it. I’ve never wanted him so badly and he’s taking his sweet time.
“Can you stop looking at me and touch me already?” I’m whining but I don’t care. I just want his hands back on my body. His mouth on my mouth.
He chuckles under his breath and reaches out, tracing a finger over the top of my lace panties. “I like looking at you.” He tells me, kissing the tip of my nose. “Even if I look at you for the next one hundred years, it will never get old. I see something new every time I do.”
I roll my lips together which gets his attention. “What do you see now?” I ask curiously.
Without answering, he guides me backwards onto his bed and climbs on top of me, bracing his hands beside my head. Then he kisses me. Only I don’t think I can call it that. His mouth is on mine but he’s not just kissing my mouth. He’s kissing my heart. And my soul. All the parts no one else can see but him. He pulls away and rests his forehead against mine. I’m breathing hard but he’s so calm. Like he didn’t just invade me in the most intimate way.
“You’re happy.” He finally answers. “And I know that’s not always easy for you. But I love these moments when you are because you can see it everywhere and it’s one of the most breathtaking things in the world.” He cups my jaw, his thumb sweeping across my cheek. “I love you, Elle. And right now, I’m about to show you how much because I don’t think I can take you being naked underneath me much longer.”
I smile slyly and wiggle my body.
He groans against my mouth and sits up, unbuttoning his shirt and yanking it over his head.
I stop smiling.
Because there is nothing funny about his body when it’s straddling mine.
Or watching him slowly unbutton his jeans and slide down the zipper like he’s putting on a show. He pushes the jeans off his hips and effortlessly tugs them off, throwing them across the floor. The urgency I felt dancing with him is back, swarming the air and making it harder to breathe. He leans over, his knee coming between my legs and in one swift move, he shifts me up until my head is at the edge of the bed. I wrap my legs around his waist and he drops his body, running a hand up my calf to the top of my thigh.
“You’re perfect.” He says. He kisses my collarbone. The hollow of my throat. I drop my head off the side of the bed, giving him access to my jaw, my chin. He drags me down so my head is back on the bed then his mouth slams against mine. He sucks on my bottom lip, tracing it with his tongue before it darts into my mouth. This kiss. It’s frantic and heavy. Driven by love but controlled by lust. This kiss. It owns me. In every single way possible.
He pulls away suddenly, curving his fingers under the band of my panties. When they’re off, he spreads my legs, keeping my hips pinned down. He kisses a path down my stomach until I feel the heat of his breath, the light touch of his tongue.
“What the hell?”
Someone’s yelling.
And they sound angry.
Canyon jerks back and when he sees his dad standing in the doorway, he quickly slams a pillow over my lady parts.
Nice.
“Dad, what the hell? Have you ever heard of knocking?”
I dare a peek in Dr. Beckett’s direction. Bad idea. I would say he looks pissed but the expression on his face deserves a whole new definition. He’s pissed and furious and downright red in the face. It’s terrifying enough to make me more scared than embarrassed. It seems like ages before he speaks but when he does, I almost wish he hadn’t.
“Get the hell out of my house.” He orders harshly. He’s talking to me. I know because his green eyes are piercing right through me.
“Dad, stop. She didn’t do anything wrong.”
I think Canyon is making things worse because his dad looks angrier if that’s even possible.
“Of course she didn’t. She’s just up here with her legs spread when you should downstairs hosting a party I put a shit ton of money into.” He looks at me again, pointing to my clothes on the floor. “Get dressed and get out of my house. Now.”
Canyon slides off the bed and puts his jeans back on then tosses me my dress before facing his dad. “If you want to yell at someone, yell at me. Not my girlfriend. You have no right to talk to her like that.”
I squeeze the pillow tighter against my chest. “He’s right, Canyon. I should probably go.” I slide the dress over my head and his dad at least as the common decency to turn his head while I get dressed. I climb off the bed and shove my shoes on my feet.
“I’ll see you later.” I tell him. I squeeze his hand to reassure him that everything’s okay, even though it’s not.
The second I leave the room, the door shuts behind me. They start yelling. I should keep walking. Leave like Dr. Beckett wants me to. But I hate him and I want to know why he hates me so much too. I’ve never done anything to him, but he acts like I have. Like I’ve done some horrendous act against him when I’ve barely spoken two words to him since I’ve known Canyon. So I do what any curious girlfriend would do. I turn around and press my ear against the closed door, straining to hear their conversation over the music.
“I don’t get what your problem is with her.” Canyon says. “You’ve barely been around her to have a reason not to like her. So what is it? What is your problem?”
“The problem is she’s distracting you from the plan. Before we moved here, you had your head on straight. You were focused. And then we move here and you meet her, and it’s like all of it doesn’t matter. You have so much more going for you than a girl. College. Med school. Why are you wanting to throw it all away for a girl?”
“Because she’s not just a girl, Dad. She’s the reason moving to this town was bearable. She’s the reason I wake up every morning and the reason I can’t sleep at night. She’s the reason this life is even worth living and if I can’t have my reason, then what’s the point of being alive?”
“Do you hear yourself right now?” His dad asks exasperatedly. “She’s a girl, Canyon. She comes from a poor family with nothing to show for themselves but a washed up football star. Is that really what you want? You can go so many places in life and where is she going? Is she even going to college?”
“She got accepted to University of Tennessee. She’s not an idiot. She’s smart and talented and something as trivial as her background doesn’t define that. It doesn’t define her future or who she should be with.”
“But it defines you,” His dad shouts. “It defines you and I don’t want you throwing everything away for a girl, Canyon. Es
pecially that one.”
“Fuck what you want!” Canyon snaps. “It’s always been about you. Even when it’s about me, it’s about you. If you want me to go to med school, fine. You want me to be a doctor, okay. But you don’t tell me who I can or cannot be with.”
The room goes eerily quiet. I wonder what they’re doing. When his dad speaks again, it’s so low I almost miss it. “Have you even told her? Have you told her about you?”
Those two questions have me gripping the door knob. What is he talking about? Told me what? We talk about everything. It’s part of our pact. He’s honest with me and I’m honest with him. No bullshit. So why do I feel like that pact is suddenly one sided?
“That’s what I thought,” his dad says and I assume Canyon shook his head no, or didn’t say anything. “You expect to be with a girl and not tell her something that important? How do you know she’d even want to be with you when she found out? It’s a huge deal, Canyon. It’s the kind of thing that affects other people’s lives, especially people you love. And you’re hiding that from her. This girl you supposedly have feelings for. If you can’t even be honest enough with her to tell her the most personal thing about your life, then how can you have a future? You’re lying to yourself and you’re lying to her.”
“I’m not lying.” Canyon says soft but harsh. “I just don’t know how to tell her. There have been so many times I wanted to, but I don’t want to hurt her.”
“So what is lying to her doing? Eventually she’s going to find out and it’s going to hurt. She’s young, Canyon. She doesn’t want to commit her life, her future to someone like you. You’re a risk. And now that you’ve kept this from her for so long, it’s inevitable that you’re going to hurt her. And if you stay with her, there is still that potential. You need to end this, Canyon. I’m telling you because I love you and I want what’s best for you. For your future. For your life.”
“Then why does it not feel like that?” Canyon asks.
“Because you’re young and even though you think you need something, sometimes that’s not always the case. You need to tell her, Canyon,” His dad warns. “Or I will. If that’s what it takes to get your head on straight, then I’ll do it. I may not like her, but she deserves the truth and if you’re not willing to give it to her, I will.”