Subscriber Wars: An Enemies-to-Lovers-Romantic Comedy

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Subscriber Wars: An Enemies-to-Lovers-Romantic Comedy Page 18

by Kristy Marie


  And then he leans down, his mouth finding my center and his tongue slipping into my opening. I’m pretty sure I’ll never be able to look at him again without seeing those frosty blue eyes gaze out from between my legs, hating, lusting, and finally surrendering.

  My fingers knot in his hair, and I try not to smother him. No one needs to call an ambulance, forcing me to explain the reason he isn’t breathing is because I smothered his pretty face with my vagina.

  Yeah, that would not look good.

  Sebastian’s tongue does things inside me that no one will ever know about because, frankly, that kind of mastery of a clit should be a well-guarded secret.

  “Bash,” I whisper, my back arching against the bed, the weight of his body pressing me back down.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell him. I don’t know why I decided that in the middle of the best oral—the only oral—I’ve ever received, I’d try mending fences, but weird things happen when someone’s face is between your legs. I just wanted to clear things up if this weekend is going to continue in this direction.

  “I never meant to deceive—oh, shit.”

  His teeth scrape down the sensitive bundle of nerves and, you know what, fuck it. I already said I’m sorry and he isn’t torturing me or popping up to tell me to shut up, so I’m just going to let the shit go. What’s done is done and— “I’m coming. Holy shit, I think I’m coming!”

  I don’t know why I felt like shouting it or that it would have been nice for him to at least give me a thumbs up as he finished me off, but when shivers and muscle spasms locked up my entire body, I was grateful for his sweet kisses as he held me until they stopped.

  This sweet, shitty neighbor of mine just made me come like a rock star and I’m so screwed.

  University CamFlix Competition Submission

  Entry Number: 75

  Sebastian and Valentina

  Second Interview Continued, also known as that time Tom made stupid shit go through my head

  “Okay, last question,” Tom promises.

  I nod. I just want this to be over. I feel more exposed than ever.

  “If you win, do you and Valentina plan on moving in together?”

  I sit up on the sofa and look over at Vee. “Wow, Tom. You sure know how to put a guy on the spot.” I rake a hand through my hair. “Vee and I haven’t talked about it, really. I think, right now, we’re just taking it day by day.”

  It’s the second round of brushing my teeth after a three-hour nap. I still can’t get the flavor of her off my tongue. It’s fucking torture and heaven and a goddamned kick in the gut all at the same time. A damn yellow jacket was the catalyst to my destruction.

  I want to say I hated it and the noises Vee made turned me off but that would be a big fat lie. Fact of the matter is, I want more. So much fucking more and that’s a problem.

  My phone buzzes on the dresser, and I walk over to grab it. It’s my sister.

  Mom #2: I went by your house and stocked your kitchen. What’s with the patio chair in your bedroom? Do you want me to buy you a real sitting chair?

  I grin. I’ll give up that chair never. Valentina might as well shop for a new one.

  Me: What? You don’t like it? I think it gives the room a raggedy edge.

  Mom #2: You’re ridiculous. Where are you? Emmy and I thought we could have lunch with you.

  This is the time that I wish I wasn’t a mess. My sister means well and my niece, well, she’s an innocent bystander in all of this.

  Me: I’m at the lake with friends. Next time?

  It takes my sister longer than usual to respond.

  Me: I promise, Cal. Okay?

  She finally responds.

  Mom #2: Okay. I’ll talk to you later. Have fun.

  I don’t text her back because I know my sister, and anytime she tells me to have fun, it means she’s mad and I need to give her time to calm down and regroup.

  It’s not her fault I’m like this. It’s not any of their faults. I simply can’t help but feel out of place in my own family. It’s not like they didn’t allow me on family trips or made me wear a scarlet letter; I just feel like I don’t belong. Like I was a last-minute plus-one to their family. I love them, and I will always be grateful for the life I was given, but I’d like to get away from my past and start somewhere new.

  I shove my phone in my pocket and exhale. Why is everything so fucking complicated? First my family and then Vee, my enemy, my friend, back to my enemy, and now my fake girlfriend that I just made come on my tongue.

  Oh, the tangled web I have weaved.

  I make my way to the living room and look outside. It’s after ten and Vee is surrounded by the cover of darkness on the dock, only the light of the moon and her iPad giving her position away.

  Instead of disappointing two women in my life today, I decide, for once, to do the right thing and at least make peace with one of them. I brew a pot of coffee and pour it into two mugs, adding the cream and sugar like Vee likes, and then head out the back door to the dock.

  I don’t turn the lights on because I know she likes to stay in the moment and scare the shit out of herself, so I try to make as little noise as possible when I walk along the dock to where she is bundled in a blanket.

  “I brought you some coffee—”

  In a blur of movement, the light from the iPad soars through the air in a mixture of “Ahhs!” and “Oh shits!” before it splashes into the lake.

  I stand there, wide-eyed, as I listen to Vee’s erratic breathing. “Sebastian?” she finally asks.

  I make sure my voice is smooth and non-threatening. “Yeah.”

  She releases a breath, and I add, “I brought you some coffee. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  I really didn’t, although a stupid grin still tugs onto my face.

  “Sure you didn’t,” she says, pushing past me.

  “Wait!” I put the mugs down on the dock and catch up to her easily, grabbing her around the arm. “Calm down. I really didn’t mean to scare you.”

  I can’t see her features clearly in the dark, but I can only imagine the glare she’s giving me.

  “I really was just bringing you some coffee.”

  She doesn’t try to pull away this time and I take that as a good sign.

  “My iPad is at the bottom of the lake,” she notes with a tremble in her voice, and it does something to my stomach.

  “I’m sorry. I know how much you love it. Maybe we can stop on the way home and pick up another one?”

  Our sponsorships have been picking up with our new videos. I’m sure she can afford it.

  “My treat,” I add, when she doesn’t say anything. “Since I’m the one who made you toss it in the first place.”

  I want to add that if she watched her horror movies on a TV, inside the house, like a normal person, this wouldn’t happen, but since she doesn’t, this is what it’s come down to. Her scaring herself out here in the dark and losing her precious iPad.

  “That’s sweet of you,” she returns, touching the top of my hand with hers. “But that’s not necessary. I was the one out here on the dock.” She pulls out of my grasp. “I didn’t think you would come out here.”

  Her comment sends regret swirling around in my gut. She’s right. Most of the time when I’m aggravated or upset with her, I retreat and not speak to her for a while. Hence the two-month silence after her final prank.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I shouldn’t have been such a dick to you after the last prank.”

  We’re in the dark. I don’t have to look at her face when I say this.

  “I was so angry at you.”

  I tuck my hands in my pocket. “I had no right to be, but I still lashed out at you. You were only playing the game I started.”

  “I didn’t mean to let it go on as long as it did,” she says, and I shake my head.

  “I just didn’t—”

  I stop, catching my breath.

  “What I’m trying to say is that I do
n’t normally connect to anyone like that.”

  “But you and Maverick are friends,” she adds, “and Rowan.”

  I nod. “It wasn’t the same.”

  I confided in her. I told her about my dreams, and we both shared in the excitement of making it in our respective fields.

  “I’m sorry,” she says for probably the hundredth time.

  I reach out for her hand and like she knows it’s there, she takes it, threading her fingers through mine.

  “I have my phone,” I offer. “It’s not your iPad, but you can at least finish your movie.” I reach into my back pocket and pull out my phone, the screen brightening the space around us.

  She smiles. “Is this your way of accepting my apology?”

  She knows me well.

  I tip my chin, fighting the urge to say something shitty and ruin the connection. I push the phone toward her. “Take it.”

  She places her fingers around the edges, but doesn’t take it. “Will you watch it with me?”

  “Yeah.”

  The word comes out before I can stop it. I mean, I do want to watch it with her, but then again, I’m drifting into territory that I won’t be able to recover from. Once I win this money, I plan on leaving. Valentina plans on staying here and finishing school. It’ll be like losing her all over again.

  But I don’t voice any of this. I simply let her lead me back to her bed of blankets along the edge.

  She kneels first and then tugs my hand and I follow while she slides the throw pillow to the center. “Here,” she offers, patting the pillow. “You can take it.”

  I ease down and lie on my side. Then, in the most natural way, I tug her down with me. She curls onto her side, sliding her back to my front. Her head rests on my arm while my free arm goes around her, holding the phone. She takes it from me, clicking the streaming app and finding the point she was at in her movie before I disrupted her.

  The screen flickers to life and the girl on the screen runs with her boyfriend right behind her. A deranged man is chasing them and when the guy realizes they won’t be able to outrun the killer, he stops.

  My grip tightens on Vee as the guy tells his onscreen girlfriend that he loves her and to run and not look back. He’s sacrificing himself to keep his girlfriend safe. And while I would have balked at such a cliché move in the past, right now, with the only girl who’s ever been able to crack through my bullshit exterior, I feel different. I feel protective. I feel loved.

  As the girl on the screen cries and kisses her boyfriend, I feel Vee’s hand drift lower, rubbing the flannel of my pajama bottoms.

  I don’t need to see her to know she’s smiling. “These are nice,” she says.

  I nuzzle her hair. “I thought you might appreciate them.”

  She smothers a laugh.

  “Why do you like these movies?” I ask her, as the guy gets stabbed for the final time. “Are they not depressing?”

  Her shoulders shrug against my arm. “I don’t know. I think I like the fact that there’s always a survivor. That even when the circumstances seem bleak, your instinct and faith in yourself will always get you through.”

  “What if the main character dies though?” I’ve seen some movies that don’t end in happily ever afters.

  “I guess they can, but at least they go down with a fight.”

  “Like you did when I bombed your video?”

  She definitely fought back. Not as fast as I expected, but she did, and in the end, she survived me. The problem was, I didn’t survive her.

  “No one had ever told me the truth,” she says softly.

  I grunt. “I was an asshole,” I admit. “That wasn’t telling you the truth. That was making fun of you. I’m sorry.”

  Now that I think back on it, I was a massive dick and deserved everything I had coming to me.

  Her body shakes in my arms. “You were right, though. I couldn’t sing.”

  “Yeah, but I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “You didn’t. You just started acting out the scene behind me.”

  I’ll admit it was not my best moment. Some things you just can’t take back.

  “Why were you singing that song from Titanic anyway?” I ask her.

  “My uncle Pe’s birthday was the following month. He owns a nightclub, and every year for his birthday, he hosts a Céline Dion karaoke night with family and friends. I wanted to practice.”

  “So you thought singing online was the best way to go about that practice?”

  She has bigger balls than I do.

  “I knew the internet would be honest, unlike my family. I’d know for sure if I should get up on stage.”

  “And did you, sing on stage?”

  I can feel her exhale. “No. I didn’t.”

  And now I feel like the biggest asshole on the planet. “I’m sorry. I never meant for that to happen.”

  She waves her hand in front of the screen. “Don’t worry about it. I was glad that someone finally told me the truth. My entire family is musically inclined, except for me. For some reason, I felt like in order to fit in with them, I had to be musical too. In your own stupid way, you taught me that I didn’t have to.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I appreciate her trying to make me feel better, but honestly, I can’t see how me mouthing ‘watermelon’ and pretending to be Jack from Titanic helped her in any other way than getting us subscribers and sponsors.

  “I figured if I couldn’t sing like Céline then I’d look like her. I learned how to do makeup and my uncle Pe had the best time taking selfies with me.”

  I smile into the darkness. “So that’s where the wig idea came from?”

  She wiggles in my arms. “Yep. You brought it on yourself. You created the monster.”

  I take a second and absorb everything. This fiery neighbor literally turns everything in her life around. She’s the ‘make lemonade out of lemons’ person.

  “I can’t say I regret it,” I whisper.

  I don’t care one bit that I created the so-called monster because, somehow, I’ve fallen for the monster in my arms.

  Vee leans back and tips her head up. I meet her in the middle and kiss her lips. “You’re crazy.”

  “Ditto,” she returns.

  We lay in silence for a little while, watching the girl on the screen navigate the woods and avoid getting stabbed to death, when Vee finally breaks the silence.

  “Bash?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  I already know I’m not going to like what she’s going to ask me. Any time you start off a question with a question, you know it’s going to go badly. But I owe her that much.

  “Yeah.”

  She doesn’t even hesitate. “What’s up with you and your family? Before—you know—”

  Before the prank she means. “You would always avoid your mom’s calls. Why don’t you ever want to see your family?”

  Only Maverick knows this answer, and to be honest, I almost told Vee, but then she kissed me and ruined everything. But she shared an insecurity with me, so I guess opening up even more than I already have with her wouldn’t be that terrible.

  “You said your family is all musically talented,” I start. “Well, mine are all successful.”

  She turns to face me. “Are you saying you aren’t successful?”

  I don’t ever discuss this. Ever. “I’m only good at one thing. Making people laugh.”

  Vee’s brows dip. “You’re good at a lot of things.”

  I match her stare. “Oh yeah? Name them.”

  “Poker.”

  “I rarely win.”

  She looks to the sky. “Okay, school.”

  “Maverick tutors me every Wednesday after poker.”

  I can keep going with this all night.

  “You’re still successful, though,” she adds, “just because you have to work harder than others doesn’t mean you aren’t successful.”

  I try to move
my arm, but she catches it and secures it to her side. “Talk to me like you used to.”

  I used to not feel like I was baring my soul to someone.

  “I have mommy issues. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

  It’s shitty and I’d like to say I’m better than that, but it’s a sore spot in my life.

  “What kind of mommy issues?”

  Ugh. “I don’t want to talk about it,” I say after a long pause.

  “Okay,” she says, patting my hand patiently and turning the volume up on the movie.

  The girl in the movie finally makes it to the road and has her hand up trying to hitch a ride to safety when I finally decide to just blurt it out. “I’m a disappointment to my family. In your story, you still added value and fun to the party. I do neither. My sister, whom I love dearly, is the star of my family. She can do anything. She was the Valedictorian in high school. Captain of the cheerleading team. Went to college on a scholarship. I could go on, but it’s nauseating. The point is my parents pay out the ass for my tuition because I can’t maintain a high enough GPA to keep a scholarship. I didn’t go to a college in California because I couldn’t get into one. Both of my parents are successful real estate agents in my hometown. They are the ‘it couple’ with the precious daughter and then there’s me.”

  Vee chimes in, “You, who has over a million subscribers and doesn’t have to work a day job to support himself because he has such a successful MyView page.”

  She just doesn’t get it.

  “My sister is ten years older than me.” I take a breath. “When she was nine, she got cancer. The doctors tried everything. Nothing worked. The last possibility was a stem cell transplant from a sibling.”

  Vee’s arm grabs onto mine like a mini hug. “I was born to save her.”

  “Sebastian,” she scolds. “You were born to be her hero.”

 

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