by Fox, Cathryn
Peyton waves her hand in front of my face. “Ella,” she says. “Where’d you go?”
“I’m fine,” I lie, but it’s futile. Peyton knows me too well.
“Did you not like it?”
“I liked it, I guess. I just…look it was a one-night thing. No biggie.”
“So the rumors are false? No biggie?” she nudges me, and I laugh as she tries to lighten the mood.
“The rumors are true,” I say. “Although I have nothing to compare it to.”
She takes my hand into hers and gives it a squeeze. “You really like him, huh?”
“Nope,” I say quickly. Too quickly. “He’s a baller and you know how I feel about those guys.” My stomach tightens as a measure of guilt moves through me. Is Jacob looking down on me with disgust for sleeping with a guy who jumped straight into bed with my sister afterward? Honestly, he’s not done anything to prove he’s different from any other jock.
Ugh, I just don’t know what to think anymore, and while I don’t keep secrets from Peyton, I can’t bring myself to say out loud that Landon screwed my sister after screwing me, and that there is a ninety-nine percent chance he thought I was Ivy to begin with.
But you know what is worse than any of that? I knew it, too, I knew there was a chance he didn’t know it was me, and I slept with him anyway. What kind of person does that make me? As that knot in my stomach expands, punches into my lungs, I suddenly can’t get air. I swallow hard, grip the bed sheets, and work to look normal as Peyton continues to stare at me.
“I need a shower,” I say and jump up. The second I do, muscles I didn’t know exist tighten, a reminder of the way Landon used my body last night.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Ella?”
My muscles bunch under her watchful eye as I grab clean clothes, hug them to my chest, and turn to her. “It’s like this. I wouldn’t have slept with him if I didn’t like something about him, but neither of us were looking for anything more. I had sex, finally got rid of my pesky virginity, and now I’m ready to move on.”
“I actually thought there could be have been something more between the two of you. I thought he was different from the others.”
“I know you did, but he’s no different from any other jock, Peyton.” Somewhere deep inside, I thought that too. I mean, I did sleep with him. “Believe me when I say that.”
She stares at me for a long moment, and I hold my composure the entire time. Go me. “Okay,” she finally says. “Go get your shower. I’ll put on the coffee. I have an early meeting with my prof this morning.”
“Thanks,” I say and make my legs move at a regular pace as I leave the room, when all I want to do is run and lock myself in the bathroom and cry for a few hours. Get yourself together, girl. I fill my lungs, and square my shoulders as I dart down the hall, berating myself for my ridiculousness. I’m a college senior for god’s sake. Not some giddy high school freshman lusting after the star football player.
I jump into a hot shower, soap up my hands, and wash all traces of Landon from my body. What is it going to take to wash him from my brain? I slide my hand between my legs, and touch my tender sex. I lightly stroke myself, and close my eyes, as memories of last night bombard me. I take a deep breath, and brush my clit. Maybe I’ll go out and sleep with someone else. Now that I know how great sex is, and that there is nothing wrong with a girl taking what she needs. Yeah, maybe that will help wipe Landon from my brain. I might have to film him on the field, but that doesn’t mean we ever really have to talk or cross paths again. That’s my last frat party, for sure.
With a new plan forming, even though I have no desire to crawl between the sheets with anyone else—I wash my hair and body, then turn the shower off. Twenty minutes later, I open the bathroom door fully dressed, make-up free, and with my hair in a braid. I steal one last look at myself in the mirror. Today I look nothing like my sister, and for that I’m happy.
I step into the kitchen and Peyton hands me a cup of coffee. “Have I told you how much I love you?” I take a much-needed sip, as she shoves her computer into her bag and tosses it over her shoulder.
“Lunch later?”
“Coffee shack?”
She blows me a kiss. “Have a good one.” She steps out into the sunshine, and I’m grateful she’s not pushing for details of last night. But seriously how am I going to face Landon…how am I going to face Ivy? I don’t even know if my sister knows that I was in Landon’s bed before her. Would it matter?
My phone pings and I glance at it, my heart in the vicinity of my throat. I steal a glance at the screen, see that it’s just an alert, and can’t quite figure out why I thought it could be Landon. He doesn’t have my number. Unless his coach gave it to him for our tutoring session that start later today.
Oh. My. God.
How could I have forgotten that?
Yup, looks like it’s a relocation to Canada after all.
I sip my coffee, grab a muffin from the counter, and shove my laptop into my bag. A few minutes later, I’m weaving my way between students and racing to class. I take my usual seat near the front and set my laptop in front of me.
“Hey,” a voice says from the aisle, and I don’t need to look up to know it’s Landon. Honestly, I could smell his freshly showered skin long before he spoke. I fiddle with my bag, stalling for a second to pull myself together, and cast a quick glance his way.
“Hey,” I return, and resist the urge to pat myself on the back. Way to go, Ella. You totally sounded casual.
He scratches his head, his eyes narrow, almost looking confused as his gaze moves over my face. I recognize that pained look. It’s the same one he gave me yesterday when I called myself a nerd.
“This seat taken?”
What the hell. Why is he sitting by me? He’s the guy who always tucks himself away in the back, and probably sleeps through class. There I go again, judging football players. I shouldn’t jump to conclusions. When it comes to them man-whoring, no jumping needed. I saw firsthand that this one at least sleeps around. I still have a sour taste in my mouth from seeing him in bed with my sister. Equal amounts of anger and disgust race through me, and I remind myself that I shouldn’t be feeling anything. He isn’t mine to judge, and I’m just another stupid girl who knew what she was getting herself into when I entered his bedroom, and stayed.
“Doesn’t look it to me,” I say in my most bored voice.
He plunks down next to me, and I stare at him. Did he think that was an invitation?
“What?” he asks, and scrubs the scar under his eyes. It should distract from his looks, yet it only makes him hotter.
“How did you get that?” I ask, instead of telling him what I really think of his stunt last night. Honestly, I have no idea how today is going to play out. Do I just pretend last night never happened? Is he going to do the same, or maybe he’s not pretending at all, because well, he thought he was sleeping with Ivy? This is so messed up.
“This?” he asks and rubs it.
I take in his brutally handsome face, his hard features and as much as I don’t want it to, my body reacts. My damn nipples pinch tight and an ache spreads through my body, settling deep between my legs. What the hell has he done to me? I’ve never gone from zero to deliriously aroused in five seconds flat in my entire life, let alone with a guy I hate. Okay, I don’t hate him. I can’t hold sleeping with Ivy against him, especially if he thought it was her all along.
“Yeah, that?” I ask, and take in the darkening of his already dark eyes. Did I hit a sore spot or something? “Never mind, it’s not my business.”
“I got this at the movie theater. Helping some people,” he says, and there’s nothing in his voice to suggest he’s lying.
“Helping them with what?”
He turns from me, and digs out his computer and I can’t help but think there is something he doesn’t want me to see. “From getting hurt,” is all he says, and opens his laptop.
I turn back to mine, his huge body crowd
ing me, his closeness and scent overwhelming my emotions. I steal another look at him, and he’s rubbing his face, like he’s in total freaking agony. Damn, I should have just come right out and brought up last night. What was I to say though? Oh, hey it was me you were fucking, not Ivy. Hilarious, right?
Nope, not hilarious at all.
He angles his head, and his dark eyes meet mine. I tear my gaze away, and stare straight ahead as the professor takes up position in front of us. Concentrating takes all my effort as Landon’s eyes drill into the side of my head. I finally turn to him.
“Is there something you want to say?” I murmur, as my entire body stiffens. God, did I really just put him on the spot like that? Yeah, I did because not knowing is killing me here.
“Yeah, actually,” he says, his voice a low whisper. “You want to come to my place later?”
My heart leaps. He knows. He knows it was me. Why then, did he sleep with Ivy afterward? Honest to God, I feel like I need another shower just thinking about that. “Uh,” I begin. How do I answer him? What do I say?
“So, you know, you do your tutoring gig and help me study for next week’s test. I really need to pass.”
My heart stops beating, and my blood drains. I guess he doesn’t know. If he did, he’d say something right?
You’re not saying anything either, Ella.
“Or we could go to your place, or wherever you prefer.” He shrugs his broad shoulders and I try not to act like a lovestruck teen. “I only suggested my place because Brady won’t be home.”
“Fine, we can go to your place,” I say. What the hell is wrong with me? Why would I want to return to the scene of the crime? Not that a crime was committed, I realize that, it just feels like he betrayed me. I must be a damn masochist for agreeing to this. “If that’s what you want.”
“I want to show you my collection of movies. I never got the chance to last night,” he says, his eyes moving over my face, assessing me, and I do my damndest to keep my features neutral, even though it feels like someone is filleting me from the inside out.
I guess he was looking for a movie partner, after all.
“Yeah, sure,” I say as the room spins before my eyes. I take a breath, and turn my focus back to the prof again. He’s looking my way and I straighten myself in my seat. I’m sure he’s wondering why I’m sitting next to Landon. The prof looks away from us and continues to talk about Mark Twain, and I make notes on my laptop. Landon sits there like a deer in the headlights, like he can’t even figure out what he’s supposed to be taking notes on. Things move fast in college, but how he can be failing English when we’re not even one month into the semester is a bit baffling to me. Nevertheless, I’ll get him caught up tonight, and hopefully that’s all it will take.
The ninety-minute class drags on, and it feels like I’ve been to war and back by the time it lets out. I pack up quickly, and I’m about to slip away when he gives my braid a little tug.
“What’s your hurry?”
“I have to be somewhere,” I tell him and clutch my phone. He pries it from my hands. “Give that back.”
“I will, just putting my number in.” His cell rings, which means he now has my number.
He hands it back, takes my backpack from me, and easily slides it onto his shoulder. I hold my hand out, wanting it back, and glare at him.
“I’m capable of carrying my own bag.”
He gives me a casual shrug and starts walking. “And I’m capable of carrying it, so what’s your point?”
“Give it back, Landon.”
“I’ll give it back when we get where you’re going,” he says and walks out of the auditorium.
“Landon,” I practically shout, and hurry after him. When I reach the hall, none other than Ivy is standing there. Landon goes perfectly still when she goes up on her toes and kisses him. My backpack slides from his shoulder and I’m not sure if he did it on purpose or not.
“There you are,” Ivy says. “I woke up and you were gone.”
He clears his throat, and as I pick up my bag, he says, “Yeah, I uh, had class.”
“I know. Brady told me where to find you.” Ivy turns my way, and gives me one of her dazzling smiles. “Hey sis,” she says. “I love your hair like that.”
I instinctively grab my braid. “Thanks.”
Her smile is bright and genuine. “Now that you dyed the front blonde, we look alike again.”
“Yeah, we do,” I say, my gaze sliding to Landon’s.
“You better dye it back or people will start mixing us up like when we were young,” Ivy advises with a laugh.
“We wouldn’t want that to happen, would we?” I say.
Ivy sidles up to Landon. “Nothing good can come from that.” She winks at me. “Am I right, or am I right?”
I nod in agreement. “Oh, you’re right.”
Nothing good can come from that. Nothing good at all. Yeah, losing my virginity to a guy who thought I was someone else, and even though I knew there was a possibility he thought I was Ivy, I still went along with it.
Yeah, I’m not really seeing a good side to that.
8
Landon
I am so goddam confused.
My gaze follows Ella as she walks away, her steps fast, like she can’t get away from me quick enough. Last night, I had a few beers, but it was Ella in my bed, not Ivy. At least the first time. I’m sure of it. I have to be. Right? Things felt different the first time, then under the stark reality of morning, when I pulled Ella into my arms, only to discover it was Ivy, the world shifted beneath me.
Yet if it was Ella, wouldn’t she have said something? Wouldn’t she have… Oh, God, I just don’t know. It had to be her, right? I wanted to bring it up, wanted her to bring it up. When she stayed quiet, I just didn’t know how to broach the subject and if I was wrong…
Fuck me.
“Are you going to answer me?” Ivy asks, and puts her hand on my face, turning me until I’m staring at her.
“What?” I ask.
She gives an exaggerated sigh. “Are you going to walk me to class? Where is your head today, Landon?” she teases.
“Uh, yeah, sure,” I say, and she slides her hand into mine as we move down the hall. My heart crashes harder in my chest, and the hall blurs around me as my mind goes back to last night, to the incredible way Ella felt beneath me. It had to be her.
“What is the matter with you, Landon?” Ivy says and tugs on my arm. “Are you still thinking about last night?”
“Yeah,” I say. Not a lie. I am thinking about last night, and wondering what the hell really happened and who I was with. How fucked up is this? She gives me a sly grin full of mischief. Funny, I always found her attractive, always liked her. We got along as friends and I would have loved this kind of attention—two days ago. Before I realize what is going on, she pulls a key out of her pocket, unlocks a door and drags me in. “Where are we?” I blink, and try to see around the dark room.
“Back stage at the theater,” she tells me. “I have my own key. One of the perks of being a star.”
I struggle to figure out what’s going on. Clearly, I’m clueless like that. Well, not usually. But right now, my mind is preoccupied with Ella, and that confused look on her face when she saw Ivy waiting for us.
“Why are we here?” I ask as my eyes adjust to the darkness.
She pushes her soft body against mine, and wiggles her hips. “You seem stressed and I can’t let my man walk around stressed, and I know just how to help you.”
I take her shoulders about to move her back so I can exit the room when she slides her hands into my pants, and grips my cock. “Jesus Christ,” I hiss through clenched teeth. “Ivy, don’t. We can’t. I don’t want this.”
“Shhh,” she whispers. “You don’t want us to get caught do you?”
She strokes my dick and the traitorous prick thickens, grows beneath her small expert hands. “There you go,” she says, delight in her voice as she caresses the length of me
dipping into the slit or my pre-cum and using it for lubrication. I grip her shoulders, wanting to push her off me, when she drops to her knees, and in seconds flat has my cock in her mouth. She sucks me deep, expertly, and my head falls back, hitting the wall.
I need to stop this and I need to do it now.
“Ivy,” I groan, and she takes me deep down her throat. What the fuck? “Please,” I say and that seems to encourage her, when I’m really begging her to stop. I need her to stop. I need to figure out a way to get her off my dick without her biting the damn thing off.
I grip her shoulders, but she won’t budge. Ivy sucks harder, knowledgeably, and cups my balls with the perfect amount of pressure and before I know it, I’m spurting into her mouth like a goddamn teenager jacked up on hormones.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Ivy goes back on her knees, and grins up at me as she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “Someone was needy,” she says.
I take a few fast breaths, hating myself right now as I zip up my pants, and pull her to her feet. “Why did you do that?” I ask, my voice a harsh whisper.
She blinks at me and for a second I feel like a total prick. I slept with her last night—maybe twice—and I should not be treating her this way at all. No excuses.
She sags against me. “Better?”
“Ivy,” I say breathless. “We shouldn’t—”
“Of course, we should and you can’t tell me you didn’t like that, Landon.” She licks her lips, the proof that I liked it glistening right there at the side of her mouth, and my stomach drops. I am the biggest asshole in the world. “Now, I need to get to class before I’m late. Walk me?”
I grip my hair and tug, hating myself. Christ, I’d kick my own ass if I could. “Yeah, sure. Uh, wait,” I say. Fuck, I’m not a guy to take without giving, and this is all fucked up but…fuck.
“I’m good. For now,” she says. “Tonight, however.”
We step outside and guilt weighs me down as I glance up and down the hall searching for Ella, I don’t want her to see me coming from the room with her sister. Ella and I aren’t a couple, yet the guilt I feel is real. I’m repulsed at what just happened, because I like Ella and I like to think I’m a one-woman kind of guy.
