by Tracey Ward
I nodded in silent agreement but inside I was thinking I had just turned fourteen and that I wasn’t far away from having my own car. I didn’t need a guy with one.
Sam scowled at me. “You’re not excited about that at all.”
“No, I am.”
“No, you’re not. Not as much as you should be and do you know why? I’ll tell you. Kellen.”
I laughed. “What does Kellen have to do with it? He’s not even here.”
“No, but he’s still ruined you. You’re spoiled. He’s a god and you expect other guys to measure up to him and they won’t. It’s like you and the comics and the superheroes. Everyday life feels boring because you’ve got this big idea in your head of what it could be. But do you know what?”
“It’s not,” I muttered.
“Nope. It’s normal life and these are normal guys. You can’t get mad at them for that.”
I didn’t answer her because how do you argue with someone who is so dead on, freaky right about you? That was one of those moments where Sam reminded me of Kellen. She was sharp and intuitive. She saw me, just like he did. She knew me.
I put on my best smile, brushing off her comments.
“So is it pizza day or n—“
I wasn’t watching where I was going. I crashed into a hard chest that felt like a wall. A tall, warm wall. When I looked up in surprise I found bright green eyes staring down at me from under a shock of onyx hair. The guy smiled as he took hold of my arms to steady me and when I reflexively smiled back, I felt myself go a little weak inside.
“Sorry,” I breathed.
“No worries. Getting run over by a pretty girl definitely won’t be the worst part of my day.”
My smile widened. “I didn’t exactly run you over.”
How could I? The guy was made of solid stone.
“No, but you tried. Football tryouts aren’t for a couple weeks yet. You gunnin’ for my spot?”
“Depends? What position do you play?”
“Tight end.”
“Yeah, you do,” Sam mumbled, checking him out.
I ignored her. “Nah, you’re safe. I’m more of Running Back.”
His eyebrows rose in surprise. “You’re into football?”
“A little.”
One guess who had taught me about football.
“Enough to your know your positions. Pretty and you like sports? Tell me you’re single.”
I blushed with embarrassment, though I tried to hide it. “I am.”
He smiled again. “Good. Now tell me your number?”
“What?”
“Can I get your number?”
I laughed. “Don’t you want my name first?”
“I mean, if you want to be formal about it.” He let go of me and offered his hand. “Devon Winslow. Sophmore, Varsity Tight End, about to be late for class but not willing to let someone snatch you up before I get a chance to call you.”
I shook his hand. “Jenna Monroe. Freshman, football fan—”
“And Kellen Coulter’s little sister,” he finished, his face turning serious.
“No, I’m Laney Monroe’s sister, not Kellen’s.”
He dropped my hand like I’d burned him. “As good as. Hey, it was great to meet you. Welcome to Weston. I gotta go, I’m late.”
He jogged away toward the gym, Sam and I staring after him in shock.
“Well that went south quickly,” Sam commented. “Were your hands sweaty? What was that?”
I narrowed my eyes, feeling my blood boil. “Kellen, that’s what.”
“Oooh. You just got cock blocked!”
“Gross. And that’s not how that phrase is used. It doesn’t make sense,” I grumbled.
“Eh, when you think about it, it does. Kellen blocked cocks from you. That guy literally ran away. Wow, even when he’s not here Kellen’s a badass!”
My first class of the day was math. What a great way to start off not only my day and week, but my year as well – with my own personal hell. When I sat down I quickly whipped out my phone to text Kellen.
Hey. How’s college?
He answered immediately.
It’s cool. How’s high school?
It’s cool. Big. Little scary. Hey, speaking of scary, what the hell did you do?
Don’t know what you mean.
Bullshit!
Language ;)
Sam says you cock blocked me. Is that true?
She’s using that term wrong.
Doesn’t mean it’s not true. How many, Kel? How many guys will be scared to come near me?
There was a pause. I hoped it meant he felt ashamed but it may have been he was laughing at me too hard. Dick.
The entire football team. JV and Varsity.
Bastard.
Pisser. Hey, what are you wearing?
I stared at my phone in shock.
Excuse me?
That came out wrong. Laney sent me pics of her First Day Back outfit. Lots of them.
Is that seriously a thing?
She very seriously seems to think so. Where are yours?
I’m not sending you pictures of what I’m wearing.
At least send me a pic of your smiling face. I miss it.
I chewed on my fingernail, debating. Then I very quickly lifted my phone to point the camera at my face, gave it a big, genuine smile and I flipped it off.
“Miss Monroe.”
I startled, nearly dropping my phone. I’d been so engrossed in my conversation with Kellen I hadn’t realized class had started. The teacher and over half the class were staring at me.
“Yes?”
“Put your phone and your finger away,” he said coolly. “Eyes forward.”
“Yes, sir,” I replied sheepishly, feeling mortified.
I slipped my phone under my desk to hit send on the picture and flip it to silent. I wanted to pay attention. This was important. This class would be hard for me as math always was and I needed to get off to a good start. But five minutes later my phone was burning in my pocket and I couldn’t resist. I sneaked a peek. What I read made me smile. It made my day seem less daunting and horrifying. It made my heart skip in my chest.
lol I love you, Nonpareil.
Chapter Seven
One Year, Eight Months Later
“Are you sure your parents won’t be home soon?” Devon asked breathily, coming up for air.
I grinned and shook my head. “They’re both at work. Don’t worry.”
Devon grinned as well, his green eyes sparking with excitement. He leaned his head down again and pressed his lips against mine. I opened my mouth to let him slide his tongue inside. It felt weird but good. I liked Devon a lot. I had ever since the first day I met him as a freshman when he’d run away scared thanks to Kellen. It’d taken over a year for him to get past whatever threats had been laid down for him, but I was glad he finally did. He was a good guy who made me laugh, and when he had kissed me for the first time I knew I wanted more. He was tall like me. His body wasn’t large, it didn’t make me feel any smaller than my ridiculously high height, but it didn’t make me feel any bigger either. That was a problem for me. Finding guys who weren’t put off by a girl that was as tall or taller than them. Devon was an exception. One I was taking full of advantage of.
It probably looked more like he was taking advantage of me. We were laying on the couch in my living room. I was on my back with Devon spread out on top of me, his hands getting braver the longer his mouth was on mine.
I didn’t mind. I wasn’t a victim. I was eyes wide open awake and willing. I hadn’t had a boyfriend before and when you have a sister like I do and you hit fifteen without a single guy taking interest, you start to wonder what the hell is wrong with you.
But as Devon ran his hand along my side, found the bottom of my shirt and slowly moved it upward, his pants starting to bulge hard against my thigh, I began to think everything with me was just fine. Maybe better than.
“Jenna, is this—“
&
nbsp; “Yes,” I mumbled against his mouth. “Yes, it’s fine.”
His hand moved with more purpose after that. My black tank top rose up over my stomach. Over my ribs. My bra. I gasped when I felt his fingertips touch lightly along the hem. He traced it slowly, tickling the skin. I’d never been touched like this. It made my muscles tense with wondering where he’d go next. What it would feel like. I was excited and anxious, wondering how I’d react. How far was I letting this go? I didn’t know what my limit was yet because it had never been tested. I wondered if I even had one.
Devon slowly pulled my bra down, dragging the silky soft material over my breasts. Across my nipples that peaked and hardened painfully in the cold air, against the rough feel of his fingertip as it grazed my skin. But then his palm pressed against it, warm and soft, wet with sweat and want and anxiety that soothed my skin until I was sighing. Singing in my skin, in every nerve in a way that felt so good I nearly stopped him. I felt like I should. Not like I wanted to, but like I should. I could hear my mother now, scolding me for letting this get so far. For neglecting my school work. For wearing too much dark eyeliner. For doodling. For the rips in my jeans, the worn out Converse shoes I loved so much, the hoodies and the Henna tattoos.
Groaning in frustration, I grabbed Devon’s hand and pushed it down across my stomach. I broke past the limits and barriers and shouldn’ts. I shoved his hand straight into my pants, to my heat, and I lifted my hips to meet it.
I think he was scared because he hesitated. His hand lay motionless inside my jeans. He broke his mouth from mine as he pulled himself up to look down at me. I was breathing hard as I stared back at him, my lips parted and swollen from his kisses. I let him stare and I didn’t flinch because I wanted this. I didn’t care if I should or shouldn’t, I wanted it and I let him know it.
He must have gotten the message because finally his fingers moved. He pushed my underwear aside slowly until his fingers were exactly where I wanted them to be.
I inhaled sharply when he touched me. When he parted that hidden, untouched part of me where no one had ever been before. When he glanced his finger over nerves that came alive for the first time. That glistened with a warm wetness I was embarrassed by but that he was amazed at. He grinned, knowing he had found it, found me, and it occurred to me that this wasn’t Devon’s first time doing this. I didn’t care. I didn’t want a fumbling, nervous boy. I had never even done this to myself so it was probably wise to have something of an expert leading the way.
He moved his hand lower, pushed deeper, his fingertips like flint.
Strike. Strike. Spark.
When he leaned down and laid a kiss on my exposed chest, I moaned in the back of my throat. I didn’t recognize my own voice. It was too low. Too deep.
I gripped his forearm hard, eager to hold onto him but afraid to distract him. To stop him from what he was doing to me. His lips drug over my breast and I froze, waiting for the contact I knew was coming, and when it did it was like lightning. His tongue twisted around my nipple, slow and patient. Hot. Wet. Teasing. I was shivering, shaking and silently pleading. Begging for more but too nervous, too afraid to ask.
Devon wrapped his lips around me in a kiss I’d never imagined before, and when he sucked hard, lapping his tongue against the tip of my breast, I released a shuddering breath that burned in my throat. In my blood.
He sucked harder, more insistently as his fingers began to move against me, tickling and teasing my entrance. I mewled and kicked. I was dying. I was burning alive from the inside out. My stomach clenched and quivered as I struggled to breathe. This was what it felt like. What all the fuss was about. What the moans and whimpers I’d caught coming from Laney’s room were for. As I crackled and burned, embers turning red to white hot inside me, I got it. I understood. I finally felt like maybe I was no longer a girl. Maybe that hoarse, rough voice moaning deep inside of me was actually me. And she felt good.
I started to spiral out. I felt crazy and feint.
He slipped a finger inside of me. Another, so stiff and full that it hurt in the best way possible. I didn’t know what he did next, if he curled his fingers or pushed deeper, or found a self-destruct button somewhere inside me, but whatever he did was magic.
I lost my damn mind.
I groaned loudly as my entire body clenched. My legs went stiff, my hands were steel clamps on his arms and I couldn’t open my eyes against the onslaught of fire roaring through me. I’d never felt anything like it. I was moaning and crying out curses as it slowly faded.
Eventually I was able to open my eyes. I looked up at Devon to find him smiling down at me.
“Wow,” I whispered, fully expecting smoke to leak from my lips.
He chuckled as he pulled his hand away. He continued to stare at me, his eyes roaming over my face. I knew I probably looked a mess. My hair had to be crazy and I could feel the heat on my cheeks.
“Jenna,” he said quietly, “you’re really beau—“
The front door slammed open behind him.
“I don’t fucking care, Kellen!” Laney shouted.
“Oh shit,” I muttered as I hastily sat up and pushed myself back into my bra. Devon was quick to yank my shirt down over it.
We both stood to face the entryway where Laney had stormed in. She turned when she saw us, looking us up and down.
“What the hell is this?” she demanded.
“I’m Devon. A friend of—“
“I don’t give a shit.”
“Oh.”
“Laney, calm down,” Kellen said as he slowly walked inside, his hands in his pockets. He looked reluctant. And tired, his eyes dark and distant.
“I will not calm down. You are unbelievable!”
Kellen sighed. “You know why I can’t do it.”
“No, I know why you won’t do it. It’s because I’m not important enough to you.”
“No, a high school dance isn’t important enough to me to miss an important test. I need to ace this class if I’m going to get this done in under three years.”
“Is that it? Really? Or is it because you’ve got some college bitch you’re already sleeping with that you don’t want to leave for the night?”
Kellen’s eyes went hard. “I’ve never been unfaithful to you.”
Laney laughed bitterly. “So you say.”
“Laney,” I said sharply, shocked.
“Stay out of it, Jenna,” she spat, casting me an ugly glance. “And get this guy outta here. I know who you are, Devon. You’re the Junior class slut. The next Kellen Coulter in the making. We don’t need any more of those around here so scram.”
Devon looked at me sideways, his face nervous.
I nodded my head. “You better go.”
“I’ll see you later?” he asked. He was already heading for the door, giving Laney and Kellen a wide berth.
I doubted we’d be hanging out again anytime soon thanks to this moment, but I nodded with a wan smile.
“You picked the sane one, man,” Kellen said dryly, offering Devon his hand as he made his dash for the door. “Well done.”
Devon hesitated as he looked down at Kellen’s hand. When I realized why, I panicked as well.
Devon would have to shake with the fingers that were just inside of me.
Finally, with no way out or reasonable excuse as to why he wouldn’t do it, Devon put his hand in Kellen’s.
It was so quick the way it happened. So fast the way the realization dawned on Kellen’s tired face and lit him up like New Years. His black eyes were electric as he clamped down on Devon’s hand and pulled him in closer.
“What the fuck?” he growled.
I don’t know if Kellen felt it on Devon’s hand or smelled it in the air around him, but he knew. And he was mad.
“What’s happening?” Laney asked, perplexed.
“What’s happening is that this little shit has had his about to be broken fingers all up inside Jenna.”
“Seriously?” Laney looked at me with
surprise. Then pride. “About time.”
I wanted to slap her.
“I asked her if it was okay,” Devon tried to tell Kellen. “I didn’t do anything she didn’t want me to. I swear.”
“Oh really? She wanted you to put your greedy little hand down her pants? That was all her idea?” Kellen demanded incredulously.
“He’s telling the truth, let him go,” I snapped, feeling embarrassed. My cheeks were flushing again but for different reasons. “I liked it. I wanted it.”
Kellen met my eyes over Devon’s head and I couldn’t look away. He was shocked. Was he disappointed in me? I didn’t know, but a tear fell from my eye and rolled down my cheek as shame washed over me. I couldn’t look at him having him know this about me. Knowing I had been touched like this and that I’d liked it. That I wanted it again.
Kellen released Devon’s hand, his eyes never leaving mine. Devon wisely bolted through the door.
“Jen,”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered shakily.
I ran as well. I shot up the stairs as fast as I could go and slammed my bedroom door closed behind me. I collapsed on my bed, hugging my pillow tightly to me and I cried. I didn’t even know why. I was so embarrassed and scared and happy and sad. I had thought something good had happened. Devon was so sweet to me and I had felt so good. And now I felt so impossibly wrong and brokenhearted. Like I’d failed someone, but I didn’t know who.
There was a light knock on my door.
“Go away, Laney. I don’t want to swap dirty details,” I shouted.
When the doorknob turned, I nearly tossed my pillow at her. I didn’t want to see her right now because she’d never understand why I was crying. I didn’t even totally understand it, but when it came to our bodies and boys, Laney and I had never understood each other. She was a bombshell. A complete knockout from age twelve while I’d taken a couple of extra years to develop. Even now my breasts were simple Bs compared to her crazy Cs and they were never going to get any bigger. I was 5’11” and my body felt like it was all bone and tissue, none of it very appealing. If anything saved me, it was my face. Tall and too skinny as I was, I knew I had a pretty face. Too bad no one could see it from way up here.