Shut Out

by Kody Keplinger

  “Enemies?” I forced a laugh. “No, of course not. It’ll be fine. As long as you don’t try any of your battle tactics on me, I’ll be good.” I winked at him, and he grinned.

  I kind of reveled in my own hypocrisy for a minute. He had no idea what was coming.

  “I guess it’s cool,” he said. “But we can’t do it here; Jenna will be on us in a heartbeat. When do you need it by? You could just e-mail me the questions.”

  “I was thinking in person,” I said a little too fast. God, I needed to calm down. Focus. “And, um, what about tonight? After work? We could do the interview at your place if it’s all right.”

  He thought about it for a second, then nodded. “Okay. That’ll work. I’ll give you a ride home afterward. Sound good?”

  “Perfect,” I said with a grin. “I’ll see you after work.”

  When I walked out of the room, I made sure to move my hips in a sexy sort of sway, causing my skirt to swish around my thighs in just the right way to show more leg, but not too much more. I hoped Cash was watching me leave. I didn’t look back to check.

  Cash drove me to his house that night after work. It was the first time I’d ever been there, and I was eager to see where he lived. The answer surprised me.

  The Sterlings lived in a trailer on the east side of town, only a few blocks from the cramped apartment complex where Chloe lived with her mom. Somehow, I expected a guy as handsome and popular as Cash to live in a picket-fence type of house, only nicer and bigger than my home. Not that I was judging or anything. It was just unexpected.

  Cash seemed a little embarrassed about letting me see his home. He smiled and opened the car door for me and walked me up to the small porch, but I could tell by the way he didn’t meet my eyes that he was uncomfortable. Did he think I was the type to think less of him for where he lived? I really wasn’t, and the fact that he obviously felt that way stung.

  “Sorry, the place is kind of a mess,” he said, unlocking the front door. “I don’t bring friends over very often.”

  “Oh.”

  Or maybe I should just be honored that he’d agreed to bring me here at all. He could have said no, but instead he’d let me see his home. Maybe that made me special.

  Not special enough for him to date, but special in some sort of distant way.

  “My parents aren’t here,” he said, letting me walk in ahead of him. “Mom’s at the hospital—she’s a nurse, and she’s got a long shift tonight. And Dad’s staying overnight in Chicago, interviewing for a new job. So it’s just us. Are you okay with that?”

  “Yes, of course.” I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. I was alone with him. No Jenna. No one to break us apart if things got heated. “I’m okay with that.”

  Cash gave me a small grin before gesturing for me to follow him toward the kitchen. It really wasn’t as messy as he’d claimed. The dishes were all washed, just sitting in the drainer, waiting to be put away. Actually, his place seemed almost as clean as mine.

  “Can I get you anything to drink?” he asked.

  “Oh, no, I’m… I’m fine.” I could feel myself bouncing, my heel tapping an anxious rhythm on the linoleum. I needed to get this over with before my insides exploded. “So can I see your room?”

  He looked a little startled, and I worried that I’d been a tad too forward, but he just nodded and gestured toward the hallway that led out of the kitchen. I walked down the narrow hall ahead of him, checking out the pictures that had been hung on the walls. Photo upon photo of Cash and his family.

  I stopped and smiled at a particular picture that stood out to me. A little boy, presumably Cash, was standing on a soccer field, clutching a black-and-white soccer ball in his small hands. He couldn’t have been more than four or five years old. On either side of him stood his parents: a pretty blond woman with her hand on her son’s head, pushing long brown bangs from his bright green eyes, and a stocky, kind-faced man with his hand on Cash’s shoulder, looking like the proudest father in the world.

  “That was taken after my first game,” Cash said, standing next to me and staring at the picture. “It was a league that played out in Oak Hill. One of the best days of my life.”

  “You won the first game?”

  He laughed. “Oh, no. We lost pretty badly, but I didn’t care. I was just happy my coach had let me off the bench. I loved the game from the minute I stepped onto the field, even when I was that little…. You can put that in your interview if you want.”

  “Yeah… my interview.” I looked at the picture, at little Cash’s big, goofy smile. It reminded me of the smile my dad wore whenever he talked about football, the way he remembered playing as a kid.

  “Should we get started on that?” Cash asked, nodding toward the door to what I guessed was his bedroom. “I don’t want to get you home too late or anything.”

  “Right,” I said. “Okay. Let’s get started.”

  It was time to set to work on The Plan. It wouldn’t be hard, I told myself. All I needed was to get Cash to kiss me again. If I could get him to kiss me, I could make him want more. I could make him want everything, and then rip it away from him. I just had to make him kiss me.

  Cash’s bedroom was cramped but, thankfully, neat. A small twin-size bed was shoved into the far right corner, and a chest of drawers stood on the opposite wall. There was a desk with a computer and printer on it. A sports calendar hung on the wall, but other than that, the room was pretty blank. Almost… lifeless.

  “I know it isn’t much,” Cash said nervously, watching me look around. “We haven’t lived here long. After Dad got laid off, we had some money trouble and had to sell the house and move in here.”

  “Why don’t you decorate?” I asked, dropping my purse onto the floor and sitting down on the bed. I crossed my legs, my heart pounding as I gave Cash a nice view of my upper thigh.

  He shrugged and walked over to sit down beside me, his eyes barely turning toward my exposed skin. “I don’t see the point. I’ll be moving out for college in less than a year, and Dad will get another job. They’ll be able to buy another house. This is just temporary…. That’s what they keep saying, at least.” He sighed and looked away for a moment before letting his eyes meet mine again. “Honestly, I’m kind of afraid that if I settle in too much, Dad will think I’ve accepted this place as home. It’s like, by not making myself too comfortable here, I’m showing I believe he’ll find another job, you know?”

  I nodded. I did know. I knew what it was like to smile and pretend to make a parent happy, to protect them. Cash was the kind of person who would do anything to keep his family going, even if it cost him. Just like Logan. Just like me.

  No, no, no. I had to stop thinking about Cash in such a favorable way. I needed to keep reminding myself what an asshole he was. How he’d hurt me. Used me to help the boys win. I needed to remember so that my plan could work, so that I could use him right back and feel guiltless.

  I edged a little closer to him, my bare knee brushing against his jeans. “What are your college plans?”

  “Is this part of the interview?” he asked.

  “No, I’m just curious.”

  Cash nodded and rubbed his head, making the short strands stand up. It was getting longer every time I saw him. I wondered if he was going to keep it short. I hoped he’d let it grow out a little. I wanted to see how he’d look with long hair, like he’d had as a kid. I wanted to run my fingers through his soft, brown waves and—

  “Well, that’s why I have to get a scholarship,” Cash explained, angling his body toward mine. “My parents can’t afford to send me, so I need to keep up my grades and get this soccer scholarship. Coach is worried that my missing practice twice a week for work is going to mess up my chances.”

  “Do you think it will?”

  He sighed. “I don’t know. I hope not. I’m trying really hard to keep up; I work my ass off at the other practices… but it isn’t like I’m going to quit my job at the library. My family comes first, and
they need me right now, you know? Plus”—he smiled at me—“I like working there… with you.”

  I loved the way he smiled at me then. Warm and sweet. It made me forget how he’d hurt me. It was hard to be conniving and deceptive when a boy like Cash Sterling was staring at me with his beautiful green eyes.

  “You know,” he said, “this whole strike thing aside, I’ve liked working with you. I mean, when you aren’t avoiding me or bossing me around.” He grinned. “You kind of fascinate me. You’re—”

  I never found out what I was. Because I messed up.

  The plan was to wait until Cash kissed me. But instead, I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his.

  chapter twenty-­six

  “Lissa.”

  The taste of my name on his lips was intoxicating. I wanted to hear it again and again.

  The kisses had started slow. He’d leaned into me gently as my lips found his, tender, small kisses against my mouth that quickly turned longer and deeper. His hands cupped my face, one slowly sliding down to touch my neck and play with my hair.

  As the kisses grew deeper, my own hands began to wander. I explored his biceps and abs, marveling at the toned, athletic muscles of his upper body.

  This went on for a while, Cash keeping it slow and sweet, and I stayed in control. I knew what I was doing. I knew the plan, and then—

  And then Cash was murmuring into my mouth, my name on his lips, and I was melting into him, feeling that same need I’d felt in the library two days earlier. The desire to crawl under Cash’s skin, to meld my body with his.

  I started to feel light-headed and leaned back, pulling him down onto the bed with me. Cash eased away for a moment, his emerald eyes meeting mine, questioning. I nodded quickly and kissed him again, tugging him closer.

  His lips moved slowly against mine and his hands stayed near my face, running through my hair or touching my cheek, never pushing the boundaries. I was the one who pushed things further. One of my legs wrapped around his waist, and I could feel Cash’s whole body tighten. After a moment, he relaxed and continued to kiss me, his hands becoming braver as they slipped down my arms, one inching under my shirt. I arched my back and his cool fingers slid under me, moving across my spine, tracing the curve between my shoulder blades.

  Cash wanted me. I could feel it. Not just through his jeans—though that factor was certainly present—but also in the way he kissed me. It was still slow, but there was a hungry edge to it now. That was all I had needed, when I walked into this. For him to want me, to need me. I could have pushed him away then, left him frustrated with unfulfilled desire. Done what I set out to do in the first place.

  But I didn’t stop.

  Instead, I put a hand on Cash’s shoulder and rolled him onto his back so that I was on top of him, straddling his waist. I pushed my hands under his shirt, and Cash leaned up so that I could shove it over his head. We were both panting, but we just kept kissing. I couldn’t stop touching him, couldn’t rip my hands or my mouth away from his skin. Like I was the north pole of a magnet and he was the south. It would have taken an effort to tug us apart.

  I didn’t have that kind of fight in me.

  His hands moved to my hips, holding me against him, our bodies grinding together for a long moment before one of his hands inched up slightly, hesitating at the hem of my shirt.

  “Yes,” I murmured into his mouth.

  I felt Cash’s chest rise beneath mine as he took in a deep breath. His hand carefully lifted my shirt, his knuckles skimming my ribs. He paused with the shirt lifted only a few inches, and he pulled back. His eyes met mine again, questioning, always questioning.

  I lifted my arms over my head in answer. He sat up with me still on his lap and tentatively pulled off my T-shirt. The shirt fell to the floor, but Cash stayed frozen, staring at me, taking me in. For a second, I felt self-conscious. Then he touched my face with one hand, trailing a finger down my jaw, neck, and collarbone, stopping on my chest, right over the place where I felt my heart racing.

  “God,” he whispered. “You’re beau—”

  My lips found his again, silencing him. I pressed myself tighter against him, feeling the newness of his warm skin against mine, and I nudged him back onto the bed.

  It was a while later, after many long, tender kisses, that I found myself being eased onto my back, and I took a breath as Cash’s mouth left mine and began trailing down my neck and shoulder. “Lissa,” he mumbled into my ear again. Just my name, and it sounded so wonderful in his deep bass voice. So soothing. So right, but—

  But then I felt his hand on my back, fumbling a little with the clasp of my bra, and I remembered myself. The oath, the strike, the plan I was supposed to be fulfilling. None of that made me stop wanting to do what I knew we were about to do—because every hormone in my body screamed that this was exactly what I wanted. But remembering did fill me with a sudden sense of fear.

  I was terrified to realize how far I’d let things go.

  How much control I had lost.

  “No,” I gasped, shoving Cash’s shoulder. “No. Never mind. I-I’m not—”

  Cash took his hands off me and rolled away, almost falling off his twin bed as I catapulted myself across the room, away from him.

  “Lissa,” he said. “Lissa, it’s okay. We don’t have to—I didn’t expect—”

  “I hate you,” I snapped as I pulled my shirt back on. Quietly at first so that maybe he couldn’t hear, and then louder, louder, louder. “I hate you. Hate you.”

  “What?” he asked, sounding surprised.

  “I do.” But it was a lie. I didn’t hate him. I just hated the way he made me feel. Loved and hated it. Being with him like that was exhilarating, but so, so dangerous. I couldn’t control myself with Cash, I never could, and it terrified me.

  This had never been a problem before. I’d always, always been able to keep the ball in my court with Randy. But with Cash… It was hard to push him away. For the most part, I didn’t even want to, despite the fact that I knew I should. Despite the fact that he’d toyed with me before and would again.

  “You’re an asshole,” I said, spinning to face him. He was sitting on his bed, staring at me with wide, confused eyes, his shirt forgotten. “You just toy with people! This is all just a game to you, isn’t it? Making girls fall for you and then never… You play with girls’ heads by making them think they’re special when, really, you don’t give a damn.”

  He blinked at me once before finding his T-shirt and pulling it back over his head. “Lissa,” he said, having regained his breath. His voice was smooth but low. “What are you talking about?”

  “You play mind games,” I said. “You mess with girls’ heads, and you shouldn’t. It’s wrong and selfish and cruel.”

  “Wait—I play mind games?” Cash was suddenly on his feet, looking across the tiny room at me as if I were insane. “I don’t know why you’re saying this, but you’re being really hypocritical right now. If anyone plays with people’s heads, it’s you.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “This whole strike has turned into a way to fuck with people, Lissa,” he snapped. “It was one thing when you were just boycotting sex, but now… Look at you. You’re using sex to get what you want—playing with my feelings for your own benefit. That’s why you came over, right? I’m not stupid. You’re the one who’s cruel, Lissa. Not me.”

  I sneered at him. “You’re no better—leading the boys’ side, trying to seduce us.”

  “We’re not manipulating anyone,” he said.

  “Yes you are!” I shouted.

  “Lissa, the boys haven’t done anything like this,” he argued. “Maybe the swimming-pool thing was wrong, but that doesn’t even compare to—”

  “I’m not talking about the damn swimming pool.”

  “We haven’t been toying with or teasing anyone the way you are.”

  I glared up at him. “So you agree with the other boys at school? You think I’m a cock tease, right?”
/>   Cash’s face softened a little. “Lissa,” he said quietly, “you choosing not to sleep with Randy doesn’t make you a tease. It makes you… Well, it makes you smart, but aside from that, it makes you independent. There was nothing wrong with your decision. And there was nothing wrong with the strike in the beginning, when it was just saying no.” He stepped a little closer to me, green eyes pressing into mine. “But there is something wrong with using other people’s feelings against them. Manipulating them. The way some of the strike girls are doing. The way you’re trying to manipulate me… That’s what makes you a tease. Fucking with people’s heads to get what you want—to get that control you say you’re desperate for—without giving anything in return.”

  He was right. When this had started, I’d said we weren’t using sex as a weapon. But some of the girls were. I’d even encouraged it.

  I could feel tears stinging my eyes. It hurt to hear, hurt to know that I really was a tease. I’d spent weeks discussing and fighting sexual labels with the other girls, but here I was, deliberately tormenting Cash with sex, becoming the stereotype. I was ashamed of myself.

  But I just couldn’t stop fighting him. “So I’m a bad person because I won’t sleep with you?” I demanded, knowing that wasn’t what he meant but needing so badly to hurt him. I needed him to feel as angry as I did. To hate himself as much as I hated myself at that moment. I wanted him to regret every bad moment between us, the same way I did.

  Cash flinched. “I did not say that,” he said. “And that’s not how I meant it. Lissa, I—”

  “Good,” I yelled. “Because… Because nothing will ever happen between us again.” I was backing toward the door of his bedroom. I had to get out of there before more stupid things left my mouth. “We’re done. It was just a game, right? This whole thing between us—kissing me in the library the other day, all the flirting—it was a game so you’d win the war. Well, game over. I played, and now I’m done. I can’t do this anymore.”