When I Was Yours

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When I Was Yours Page 12

by Samantha Towle


  She snuggles closer, sliding her hand over my stomach. My muscles instantly tense.

  She lets out a content sigh. “It’s official. I am the comfiest I’ve ever been. You make for a great pillow. I’m never moving again.”

  “Works for me.” I drop a kiss to the top of her head.

  “Jesus, you two are like a Hallmark card, and I don’t mean that in a complimentary way,” Max grumbles.

  I turn my head to see him walking in from the kitchen, a can of soda in his hand.

  Evie lifts her head from my chest and looks at him. “Aw, Max, just think, this could be you one day, in a Hallmark card all of your own,” Evie teases.

  “Fuck no!” He frowns at her. “No fucking way is that shit happening to me.”

  Evie starts to laugh.

  She and Max get along great, and that makes me happy. Well, she makes me happy all the time.

  And she’s making me happy right now while she’s laughing. I can feel the vibration of her laughter through her hips, which are pressed up nicely against my cock. Of course, my cock responds in the way he always does around Evie.

  He gets hard.

  I know the second she feels my erection. Her body stiffens, and she slowly moves her eyes to mine.

  We silently stare at each other, the air thickening all around us.

  A flush rises in her cheeks, lust filling her eyes as they flicker down to my lips.

  “So…I’m feeling kind of tired,” Evie says, giving a fake yawn. “Wanna go take a nap?”

  I know the last thing she wants to do is nap. She wants to fool around. And I am totally on board with that.

  “I could take a nap,” I say casually, aware that Max is still here.

  Evie and I haven’t had sex yet, but we’ve done everything else. Honestly, I don’t care that I’m not having sex. I’m getting plenty of blow jobs, and that’s not something to scoff at. Blow jobs from Evie are nothing short of amazing.

  Everything she does is amazing.

  I’m crazy about her.

  Do I love her? Without a doubt.

  I just haven’t quite told her yet. I haven’t found the right time.

  “Seriously?” Max laughs. “That was weak, guys. A nap? Why not just be honest and say that you’re going upstairs to have sex—or at the very least, oral?”

  Max knows Evie and I haven’t had actual sex. He’s saying this to wind her up.

  I don’t discuss our sex life with him, but he’s also my best friend. When Evie and I first got together, he pushed to know if we’d done it, so I told him that Evie was a virgin, and we were taking it slow.

  At that point, I think he realized how serious I was about her.

  Evie’s face goes bright red, and she drops her head to my chest, letting out a mortified-sounding laugh.

  I lift a hand, giving Max the middle finger. “Fuck you very much, dickwad.”

  “Love you, too, man.” He blows me a kiss. “Have fun, kids, and play safe. I’ll be in the game room if you need me.”

  “Not likely,” I mutter.

  He laughs again before disappearing through the door.

  “Is he gone?” Evie mumbles into my shirt.

  “Yep.”

  She lifts her face, a blush still staining her cheeks.

  I run my finger over the soft skin there. “You still wanna go fool around?”

  “I want to, I just…feel kind of weird, knowing that Max knows what we’re doing.”

  “Just ignore him. But we don’t have to if you don’t feel comfortable.”

  She reaches up and presses a kiss to my lips. “You’re perfect, you know that?”

  “It’s been said before.” I grin.

  She playfully slaps my chest. I catch her hand, and bringing it to my lips, I kiss the tips of her fingers. Then, I catch the top of one with my teeth.

  She shivers, and her eyes darken. “You know, I’m not feeling so embarrassed anymore.”

  “No?” I suck the tip of her finger into my mouth, nibbling on it.

  “No,” she says on a breath. “Let’s go upstairs.”

  Evie limbers off me, getting to her feet. I stand, and then I take her face in my hands. I kiss her long and deep. Then, I grab her hand and lead her in the direction of the stairs, listening to the sound of her sexy giggle.

  I’ve just gotten up the first step when there’s a knock at the front door.

  “Who could that be?” Evie asks.

  I shrug. “Max probably ordered takeout. I’ll get rid of whoever it is.”

  I give her a quick kiss and then head for the front door.

  I pull it open, and my heart sinks.

  Fuck.

  Ava is standing there. Over her shoulder, I see her limo parked on my driveway, her bodyguard standing beside it.

  “Ava,” I say her name like a bad taste is in my mouth. “What are you doing here?”

  I haven’t seen her since I left Beverly Hills back in July, and even those few months haven’t been long enough.

  “It’s nice to see you, too, and call me mother. You know how much I hate it when you call me Ava.” She sweeps past me, walking into the house.

  I release a sigh and close the door. My eyes immediately seek out Evie, who’s still standing at the bottom of the stairs.

  My mother’s eyes are on her like a lion stalking a gazelle. I feel a nasty twist in my gut.

  “And who have we got here?” Ava asks me without taking her eyes off Evie.

  “Nobody. She’s just a friend.”

  Evie’s eyes immediately flick to mine, and I see the hurt flash through them.

  Her pain strikes me like a blow to the stomach.

  I didn’t mean that. I just don’t want Ava to know that Evie is my girlfriend. Ava knows I don’t do girlfriends, and if she knows Evie’s my girlfriend, then she’ll know that Evie means something to me. And the minute Ava knows that, she’ll have more power over me. She’ll wield Evie like a weapon against me.

  I can’t let that happen, so I need her to think that Evie is just another girl.

  Evie knows my mother is a bitch and that we’re not close, but she doesn’t know the extent of what a fucking devil she is.

  I want to protect Evie from her, but protecting her will become a hell of a lot harder if Ava knows I care for her.

  “A friend,” my mother echoes. “And does your friend have a name?”

  Evie seems to come to life, the hurt quickly masked in her eyes. “I’m Evie Taylor.” She steps forward, holding her hand out to Ava. “It’s really nice to meet you, Mrs. Gunner.”

  My mother looks down at her hand. Then, ignoring Evie, she sweeps past her and into the living room.

  Evie’s face drops. And it’s another blow to my gut.

  I really fucking hate my mother.

  “So, this is what my money’s paying for,” Ava says, looking around the beach house.

  Ignoring her, I say in a quiet voice to Evie, “I’m really sorry. I had no idea she was coming.”

  “Why do you need to be sorry about your mother turning up at your house?”

  I run a hand through my hair. I should have told her before what Ava was like. I just never wanted her to know the kind of fucked up my family is.

  “Because she’s not a good person, Evie.”

  Evie only knows good people. She doesn’t know the kind of evil my mother is or what I grew up around.

  “I can’t explain now, but I will later, I promise.”

  I just need to get Evie out of here—now. She can’t drive, so I’ll have to take her home and then come back and deal with whatever Ava wants from me. Because, without a doubt, she wants something.

  “Ava, I’m just going to take Evie home, and then I’ll be back.”

  “No need for her to rush off. Stay, and visit with me a while.” Ava sits down on the sofa. A false smile is plastered on her face as she pats the space on the sofa beside her.

  Evie glances at me in question and then tentatively walks into the li
ving room before taking the space beside Ava.

  I sit on the arm of the chair, facing them.

  “Oh, happy birthday, by the way,” Ava says to me.

  “My birthday was three weeks ago,” I respond blankly. “You know, September thirtieth.”

  My fingers go to the pendant around my neck that Evie got me.

  It says, Surf. Sleep. Repeat.

  It’s the best gift I’ve ever received.

  “Of course I know when your birthday is.” Ava fakes a laugh. “I was there. Most horrendous day of my life. I’m not forgetting that in a hurry.”

  Evie’s horrified gaze lands on my mother.

  I just let out a sigh.

  “So, what brings you to Malibu, Ava?” I say in a bored tone.

  “We’ll get to that soon.” She flicks a hand at me. “First, I want to hear all about this one here.” She turns her body toward Evie, who still has a look of absolute horror on her face.

  Evie clears her expression and offers my mother a smile.

  “So, how long have you and my son been seeing each other?”

  “Not long,” I answer. “And we’re not really seeing each other. Are we done here?” I stand up.

  Ava ignores me, and I try to ignore the look of devastation in Evie’s eyes, the devastation that’s crushing my insides.

  “Hush, Adam.” Ava gives me a look before turning back to Evie. “He’s always kidding around like this. Don’t take him seriously. You must be important to him. I know my son, and I’ve never seen a girl with him at four in the afternoon. He usually brings them home late at night, and then they’re gone before breakfast.”

  I didn’t know Ava paid enough attention to me to know my routine with girls. Then again, she never lets anything slip by that might be useful to her.

  “So, how long have you two been seeing each other?” She reaches over and squeezes Evie’s hands, which are clutched firmly in her lap.

  Evie looks like she doesn’t know how to answer the question. Maybe she doesn’t. I am treating her like shit, and she’s probably unsure of what to say.

  “Since July,” she edges the words out slowly.

  “Since July? Wow…” Ava’s eyes meet with mine, and I see it written there.

  She knows I care for Evie, and she’s going to use that against me in one way or another.

  “Well, I think I should probably get going.” Evie gets to her feet, pulling her hands from my mother’s. She gets her bag from the side of the sofa and hooks it on her shoulder.

  “I’ll give you a ride home.” I can tell her everything then—how sorry I am, why I’ve treated her this way in front of my mother. And I can tell her that I love her.

  I need to tell her.

  “No. It’s fine. I’ll get the bus.” She won’t meet my eyes.

  Fuck.

  The word is echoed in my ears in the sound of Max’s voice.

  I turn to see him standing in the doorway, his eyes on Ava.

  “Max,” Ava greets him.

  “Mrs. Gunner. What brings you to Malibu? Was hell too warm, so you thought you’d come cool down here with the natives?”

  And this is why I love Max. He just says whatever he wants to her, which isn’t usually anything nice.

  The smile is tight on my mother’s lips. “You are funny, Max. You really should consider a career in comedy.” She turns her eyes to me before looking back at him. “So, how are your parents doing nowadays?”

  I freeze. She’s taunting me, not Max.

  She can’t punish him for what he just said, so she’s taking it out on me.

  She knows I never told Max what happened, what I saw that day when I came home from school early.

  She knows how important Max is to me, and she knows I’m afraid to lose him.

  “Wouldn’t know. I haven’t spoken to them in a while.” Max shrugs, moving farther into the living room. He eyes the situation—Evie on her feet, ready to run, while I’m tense, looking like I’m about to explode any second. “Everything okay?” he asks me.

  “Fine,” Ava says brightly. “Just meeting Adam’s new girlfriend.”

  Max’s eyes widen on me. He knows I don’t want Ava to know that Evie’s my girlfriend or be anywhere near her.

  “I was just heading home,” Evie says in a quiet voice to Max.

  “I’ll take you,” I tell to her.

  Evie finally looks at me, and the look is hard. It cuts me to the quick, but it is nothing less than I deserve right now.

  “No. I’ll take the bus.” Her chin defiantly juts out.

  “I’ll give you a ride,” Max says to her.

  She glances over at Max, and I see her relax a little.

  “That’d be great. Thank you.”

  Well, fuck me.

  I try not to take that personally, but I do. It actually makes me want to punch a hole in the wall.

  But I want Evie away from Ava more than I want to throw a temper tantrum right now.

  Max grabs his keys from the coffee table.

  I follow them to the front door.

  Hooking my fingers into Evie’s shirt, I pull her back to me. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper in her ear, sliding my hands over her waist. “I’ll come over later and explain everything.”

  She doesn’t say anything. She just pulls away and walks out the front door without looking back.

  “You okay?” Max asks me.

  “I said some stuff. Didn’t want Ava to know that Evie’s important to me. Evie doesn’t understand why. I’ve never told her what Ava’s like,” I say in a quiet voice.

  “I’ll try to do damage control on the drive home. Just get rid of the devil as soon as you can, and then get your ass over to Evie’s. You want me to come back after I’ve dropped Evie off? We can tag-team Ava.”

  He’s being a good friend, but I know the last place he wants to be is here. Can’t blame him for that. Ava is like poison.

  “Nah, it’s cool, but thanks, man. I’ll let you know when the coast is clear.”

  He pats me on the shoulder. “Whatever Ava wants, Adam, tell her no.” He fixes me with a stare.

  He knows what Ava’s like. And he knows what I’m like. I always cave to what she wants simply because it makes my life easier.

  I stand at the door, watching as Max pulls his truck out of the driveway.

  I will Evie to look at me, but she doesn’t.

  It hurts, and right now, I’m blaming Ava for that.

  When Max’s truck is out of sight, I slam the front door shut.

  I take a deep breath, preparing myself to deal with Ava. Then, I walk back into the living room.

  I find her perched on the arm of the chair, sitting like she’s about to take a scene.

  That’s Ava. Everything’s a movie to her. Life is fucking a movie.

  “There’s no alcohol here,” she complains. “I want a martini.”

  “Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not old enough to buy alcohol. I’m only nineteen, remember?” I dig at her forgetting my birthday.

  She lets out a sarcastic laugh. “Don’t give me that shit, Adam. You’ve been buying liquor since you were sixteen.”

  I fold my arms over my chest. “Okay, let’s cut the bullshit. What are you doing here?”

  “Visiting my son.” She folds her arms, mirroring me. “Your little girlfriend seems…nice.” She screws her face up on the word nice.

  “She’s not my girlfriend. I’m just fucking her.”

  “Well, I think it’s sweet that you’ve found yourself a little piece of trailer trash to play with while you’re here.”

  “Don’t talk about her like that,” I snap on reflex.

  Ava smiles a winning smile, and I know I’ve screwed up.

  “Awfully touchy about some girl you’re just fucking.”

  “I’m not doing this with you. Just tell me what you want, and then you can get the fuck out.”

  “Honestly, the way you talk to me.” She laughs easily, shaking her head, like I’ve just t
old some joke. Then, she unfolds her arms and places her hands flat on her thighs. “So, I need a teeny, tiny favor.”

  I snort.

  The last teeny, tiny favor I did for her involved me flying to Vegas to get Eric. My father had spent the weekend with some male hooker in the apartment he owned there, fucking him and getting high on coke. Then, the hooker waited until Eric had passed out from the drugs before handcuffing him to the bed and robbing him of everything he had. The hooker did leave the phone on the bed so that Eric could call for help and the keys to the handcuffs on the bedside table so that I could unlock him.

  How kind of him.

  Ava wanted to keep the incident out of the press, so I was sent to go help him.

  Walking in and seeing my father handcuffed to the bed, butt naked, with used needles on the bedside table and a dirty condom still on his cock was not a scene any kid should have to deal with or see. And it’s one I’ve sadly never quite been able to scrub from my mind.

  “Is Eric in trouble again?”

  “Not exactly. I mean, he’s always in trouble. But this isn’t trouble as much as this is business. A favor will help him and ultimately you, as the studio will be yours one day. It’s a mutually beneficial kind of favor.”

  I fold my arms and lean back against the wall, readying myself for the bullshit.

  “Do you remember Mandi Becker?”

  I cringe when I hear the name. Mandi was a few years younger than me. Total psycho. She had this massive crush on me. Used to follow me around like an annoying puppy dog. Tried to get it on with me a few times, but of course, I always blew her off.

  One time, a few years ago, I’d passed out at a party, and I woke to find her straddling me, undoing my jeans, attempting to get my cock out. I went absolutely mental on her. I was sixteen. She was thirteen at the time. Why the hell she was at the party in the first place, I’ll never know.

  The girl is a nutjob—a nutjob who is now famous. She won a talent show on TV and became this big star.

  “I remember. She’s a singer now, right? Won that show.”

  “That’s her. Well, your father is doing a film about a poor girl, trailer-trash sort, who wins a talent contest and becomes a singing sensation overnight—worldwide fame, that kind of thing. Sort of like what happened with Mandi.”

  “Except Mandi was hardly trailer trash. She grew up in Beverly Hills.”

 

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