Over the Fence Box Set

by Carrie Aarons

  He pushes open his door at the opposite end of the house and the room goes by in a flash of light as he deposits me on the bed.

  The room is Owen, simple but clean. His mother’s chic touch is missing, but he still has a massive king bed that takes up most of the room, with a matching dresser and TV stand. Hanging over his bed, framed, is his high school jersey.

  He lies down on top of me, placing himself at the apex of my thighs. I feel him, hard and pulsing, through his uniform and everything in me liquefies.

  He pins his hands down beside my head. I am so aware of him that I can practically feel the coiling of his arm muscles as he gyrates against me.

  I seek his tongue in his mouth, sucking on it and pulling it back to mine. His hands tickle up my ribcage, pushing the tank top I have on high enough so that he can slip one hand into the cup of my bra. Reaching down, I cup his package through his pants, stroking my thumb up and down the rigid length.

  “Hey guys, come watch! Axel is giving a free porn show in his room!” Clint’s yelling snaps me out of Owen’s seduction. I sit up quickly, almost smacking my forehead against his and yank my top down. Owen bounds to the door, slamming it shut and muttering, “Fucking dick,” before coming back to sit beside me.

  “Sorry, babe. Guys and all …”

  “It’s okay.” I tenderly touch his face. I wish we could just spend tonight locked in here. But Owen wants me on his arm as his girlfriend at a college party and I can’t pass up that opportunity. I need to see how things are going to work. If they can work. Not that I’ll be able to let him go even if I know they can’t. “I’m going to get ready with the girls. Go shower, you stink.”

  He sighs and flops on the bed, his dick still painfully hard in his pants. “You’re a tease. I expect you to repay this debt later.”

  “You can count on it.” I kiss him quick enough so that he can’t pull me back down, and turn to leave the room.

  A glass goes flying across the room, smashing and breaking against the stark white wall, brown liquid sloshing down it in a dripping pattern.

  “Told you I could hit the bull’s-eye!” The drunk girl stumbles a bit on her sky-high heels, wrapping her arms around her friend’s shoulders and noisily kissing her cheeks. I look at the wall, still a stark white. No dartboard in sight. Drunk girls.

  “Bet you two won’t make out,” a very drunk and definitely high Farris eggs the two on, leering over them at his epic height.

  The girls look at each other, back at Miles, and then dive tongues first into each other’s faces. Farris flashes a grin, tugging on their hands to lead them back to his room across from Owen’s. Yuck.

  Is this how college parties are?

  I’m used to high school parties, where everyone knows everyone, or knows of everyone anyway. This is a whole different ballgame. Excuse the terrible metaphor.

  The girls all stand in mile-high heels teetering in their little skirts and dresses. I overheard one girl talking about how long it took her to put in extensions and another fluttering her can’t-be-real lashes at the boy grinding on her butt to the beat of the music.

  There is no way I can compete with this. I look better than normal, I think, in my skinny white jeans and dark blue crop top. Yes, Kelsey has gotten me into one. I have gold wedge sandals on that make me a few inches taller. Owen almost dragged me back to his room when he saw me. But now? I have no clue where he is.

  My friends look like they have found Narnia. They are beyond wasted at this point, the clock about to hit 10:00 p.m. They’ve been ruling on the pong table for a while now; for a ballerina and a hippie they have surprisingly perfect accuracy.

  I’m nursing my second drink as I walk over.

  “Minks!” Chloe practically hangs from my neck as she jumps on me. I think it’s supposed to be a hug.

  “Hi, love.” I pat her head, laughing at her clearly intoxicated state. Someone yells for her to take her turn. Without so much as a glance at the cups, she chucks the ball over her shoulder. And sinks it.

  “Oh!” she and Kelsey yell simultaneously as they chest bump like football bros. My two best friends, the jocks.

  “Where is lover boy?” Kelsey, a little less drunk than Chloe, eyes me suspiciously.

  “Miles has been ignoring me all night. I think he hooked up with some skank!” Chloe whines. I wasn’t about to fess up that it might have been two skanks.

  Kelsey rolls her eyes, sticking the straw of her drink in her mouth. “Not your lover boy, idiot. Owen?” She directs her question at me.

  “I don’t know…” I trail off, swiveling my head around the party like I’ve been doing for the last hour. I seriously have no idea where he is. “I’m going to go find him.”

  Surveying the house one last time, I know he isn’t anywhere in here. Making my way to the back deck, I run into Clint.

  “Hey, Owen’s girl.” He grins at my scowl. While I like being Owen’s girlfriend, I have my own identity. “I know, Minka. Anyways … is your friend, the pretty, short one, single?”

  Kelsey? I eye him. She would never, ever go for him. Not to say Kelsey is shallow, but Parker is definitely more her type. If she ever considers guys for more than sex. Which she doesn’t.

  “Kelsey, yeah she is. But that’s of her own doing. Word of advice? Don’t try it. She doesn’t do boyfriends. Or friends that are boys for that matter.”

  He doesn’t look fazed by my words at all. “Yeah, thanks.”

  Uh oh, I think I just added fuel to his fire rather than unlighting that match. At least I warned him.

  I walk to the railing, sipping my beer slowly as I peer over the yard. I can’t bring myself to drink more. I want to be fully aware for whatever Owen has planned for me later.

  The lawn is riddled with red cups, cigarette butts, and the same brand of scantily clad girls clinging to beefed up jocks. I guess I can’t call them that anymore, since my boyfriend is one of those jocks.

  Yelling from a folding table on the lawn catches my attention, and when I turn to see what the fuss is about, I’m greeted by the sight of said boyfriend, enthusiastically hugging a blonde in the tightest mini-dress I’ve ever seen.

  My heart plummets into my stomach and feels like it might burn a hole through my abdomen. I tell myself to calm down, that it might just be a friendly game, but I can’t seem to push the knot of emotion back down my throat.

  Frozen to the deck, I watch for what seems like an eternity. Owen is playing flip cup, wedged in between the blonde and a redhead with the biggest boobs I’ve ever seen. They look unnatural against her tiny waist, which then leads me to wonder if they are, in fact, fake.

  I feel my pulse zipping a mile a minute at my neck. Every time one of these girls places a hand on his lower back or his shoulder he leans his body into theirs, he accepts it. He never politely pushes them off. Between that and the way he’s chugging beer and high-fiving his baseball buddies, I’ve seen enough.

  This isn’t my world. I feel an errant tear drip onto my hand, which has gone ghostly white, clutching my beer bottle. I knew from the start that I didn’t belong in his galaxy, let alone on his college campus. He’s everyone’s favorite guy, that person that will always stand out while simultaneously fitting in, no matter where he is.

  I was born to blend in. And I’ve always preferred it like that. Until he decided to come into my life and fuck that all up.

  I thought he saw me, really saw me. Past all the walls and the hurt and the bullshit. He had made it seem like he wanted me, the odd girl out. But maybe it was all for the chase. Isn’t it always how these guys are?

  Trying to suck in deep calming breaths, I manage to get a hold of the nausea working its way up my throat. I steal one last glance toward the lawn. Owen’s bright smile laughing at something going on inside the group.

  I stumble down the side steps, working my way to the front lawn. Where do I go now? I don’t want to stay in Owen’s room, much less even be here.

  I could camp out in the fifth bedroom,
but I fear being trampled on by an overly horny couple looking for the closest room.

  So, I chuck my bottle in the yard and start walking.

  I’m not familiar with this street, but I paid attention on the drive and know campus is only about a block or two up. The night is warm, the humid Virginia air clings to my skin as I walk slowly along the tree-lined street. Sticking my hands in my pockets and keeping alert for bumps in the night, my mind drifts back to the house.

  He hadn’t looked for me in an hour. Tears pool in the bottom of my sockets; my cheeks burning with the sting of being ignored.

  Do I care if he didn’t do it on purpose? No. I know he probably didn’t mean it, but it stings so much more because he really could just that easily forget about me.

  Mostly it stings because I didn’t go a second of the day without him in my head.

  I’ve fallen, deeply. It’s exactly the kind of thing I swore I’d never do. Especially with a guy like Owen.

  Just when I decided to let myself shine, to stop hiding in the humiliation of my past, that’s when he decided to pounce. I never even had a chance. There I was empowering myself, chanting the girl power mantra through my head and I let myself get caught by the first handsome jock who smiled my way.

  I’m about to campus now and I know where I’m headed at this point. I decide to stop at the circle of benches surrounding the Founder’s Statue.

  I’ve only ever been here once, on a campus tour with Chloe last summer, but that circle seemed like somewhere to sit and think. A hub for knowledge. How college of me.

  Campus is all but dead. One it’s summer and two, the only people who are here are four beers deep and not stepping foot on campus.

  I revel in the silence, admiring the way the lights cast shadows between the old brick buildings. The air smells like fresh grass and fireflies light up the space around me.

  Just as I tilt my head back onto the bench, I hear flip-flops slapping along the paved walkway.

  I shoot up, suddenly extremely aware that I’m alone on a deserted campus at night. But my heart stops beating when I see who’s running toward me.

  Owen.

  “Are you okay?” He’s shouting, his face is flushed, from what I can’t tell, either the beer or the running. “I had no idea where you were! Jesus, babe, don’t walk off like that. You scared the fucking shit out of me.”

  I sit back down, disappointed that he thinks he’s being some kind of hero in finding me. “Go back to your party, Owen.”

  “What?” He looks confused as he nears me, bending over near where I sit to catch his breath.

  “I said go back to your party. Blonde bombshell and big tits are probably missing you by now.” Okay, that sounds really high school, but in my defense I’m still in high school.

  “What are you talking about? What’s wrong with you?” He eyes me, sweaty from his sprint over here. And dammit, it sucks how sexy he looks right now.

  “You shouldn’t have brought me here. Especially if you were going to ignore me the whole time.” I let a bit of my anger slip away from me, biting out my response.

  “Ignoring you? I was with you the whole ti …”

  He trails off, clearly filling in the holes in his memory. His face contorts from a confused grimace to one of sympathy and apology. “Baby, I …”

  “Go back to your party, Owen. I’m fine here.” I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t want to look at him. I’m seconds away from crying unreasonably and don’t want him to see that.

  “I didn’t mean to ignore you. I wasn’t ignoring you, really … I just … shit, I’m sorry, Minka.”

  He places his hand on my shoulder and I shrug away from his touch.

  “You won’t let me touch you? Really?” Owen sits down next to me, dropping his head into his hands. “Tell me what you want me to do? I’m sorry, babe.”

  I can feel my lip quivering, knowing tears will spill the minute I open my mouth. I feel dramatic, but know how much his actions hurt me and use that to fuel my answer.

  “I told you about my past. I told you how I’d been hurt. I was really excited to come here with you. And then I see that … after you don’t do more than kiss me and then disappear for an hour. It hurt.” My voice comes out unnaturally high and squeaky, hoarse with the unshed tears I’m trying to keep in my eyes.

  Owen stands, running his hands through his hair violently. “Fuck. I’m such an idiot. I’m sorry, babe, I didn’t think. I saw my friends again and got into the party and the game. It’s no excuse. There is no excuse.”

  A sob escapes me. I don’t know why I’m breaking down, but it feels like I’ve been waiting for this. The other shoe to drop.

  “You’re this perfect person. Everyone wants to include you. I have never been that way. And I don’t mind it, being the outsider. But I thought you wanted to be on the outside with me too.”

  He kneels in front of me; the fireflies lighting up around us, making his blue eyes sparkle.

  “You're not on the outside. You’re right where you are supposed to be. You can be wherever you want. That’s what I love about you. You don’t need those people’s validation. And as we both saw tonight, apparently I still do. I’m an idiot, Minka. I should have never left your side. I don’t even need those people there. I would be fine living in a four-by-four room with you for the rest of my life. You’re all I see. I’m so fucking sorry.”

  I sniffle, watching as he almost pulls his hair out by the roots. I want to believe him, to move past this stupid situation.

  “Tell me what will make this better … I need you to believe me. I am a cocky, arrogant jock who needs people to worship him. I’m a self-obsessed asshole. I don’t deserve you. Anything, I’ll say anything,” he says with a smirk.

  His humor is what breaks me. It’s what got me from the beginning. “Well, you are probably right about that last one, you don’t deserve me. But I guess I’m here anyway…” I trail off, wiping the corners of my eyes.

  He stares at me, a dead serious expression on his face. “You’re right. I don’t. I don’t know how the hell it’s possible that I get you, but I thank my lucky stars every day that you picked me.”

  Tentatively, he reaches out, checking to see if I’ll allow him to touch me. When I don’t bite his hand off, he rests it on my cheek. Just that skin to skin contact has us both sighing.

  This, being with him, is going to destroy me someday. I know it. But I can’t fight it even if I try.

  I see his hair flop over into one eye right before he presses his warm lips to mine. The kiss is aching and so sweetly tender, it almost has me crying again at how heart-shattering it is.

  “I don’t know if I picked you as much as I couldn’t avoid falling epically for you.” I breathe, still nose to nose with Owen.

  “Come back with me. Share my bed. I want to show you all the ways I need to make it up to you.”

  He takes my hand and I let him. Like a moth to the flame, I’m totally conscious of walking into the fire.

  24

  Owen

  I run my hand through Minka’s silky brown hair, fanning the locks across the pillow in the early morning light that cuts diagonal lines of orange onto my sheets. And once again, I thank my fucking lucky-ass stars that she chooses to be here with me.

  I really fucked up with the party at my house. Like a total jocktard, I assumed my girl would be fine with letting me wander off to do asinine shit with my buddies until I decided to go to bed with her. I was high off the win, pumped about the season and being back with boys and I forgot what it was like to be in a relationship.

  Scratch that, I’ve never been in a real relationship before, one that wasn’t just for show.

  I left her on her own, and I was so fucking stupid and sorry for that. When I realized my mistake, it felt like I’d been shot in the chest. I couldn’t get control of my heartbeat or breathing, staring up at her hoping to God she wasn’t about to end things.

  I’ve only known her two months, but in
that time she’s imprinted herself on my heart. She’s become my rock in the storm that is my life at times. I need her. Way more than she’ll ever need me.

  That’s why I’ve been making it up to her for the past two weeks.

  Lucky for me, Mom and Dad decided on a last-minute trip to our house in Sicily, leaving the house virtually empty for the month.

  I’ve had Minka naked and under me for about a week and a half, trying to atone for my sins.

  I’m proving myself the way I know how. In orgasms, food, and movie marathons. We’ve spent the last ten days locked in my house, only venturing out for takeout food and the odd change of clothes for Minka.

  Since August hit, her pre-college courses were over and she told the chief she’d be with Chloe a lot over the next few weeks. So far he hasn’t asked where she was, and I was shaking in my boots, waiting for that man to come to my door with his gun.

  I know I fucked up at Grover, and badly. I still see the apprehension in her eyes, whether it’s in between a Netflix episode or over dinner. Anytime that happened, I kissed her.

  Not that I also haven’t verbally apologized. Many times. I’ve said sorry more times than I can count. Because I truly am.

  Minka stirs in my arms, her lashes fluttering at the side of my neck. I have her pulled into my chest, so close I can feel the heat coming off of her amazing breasts.

  I can’t help but skim my hand over the arch of her smooth back, cupping her perfect ass cheek when my hand makes it there.

  I’ve spent the past two weeks worshiping her body. Studying her responses.

  I’ve learned that when I press my lips to that certain spot on the inside of her thigh, she convulses, like her body can’t take the intense sensation.

  And when I whisper dirty words into her ear as I stroke gently into her, her entire body blushes. My shy girl. But I also feel her soak my cock, my way of knowing just how much that turns her on.

  Or that when I kiss her so thoroughly and completely, our lips molding into one another’s, I can feel my heart escaping from my chest to go join hers. Because she owns it now.