Over the Fence Box Set

by Aarons, Carrie

  “It’s your saddle, cowgirl. Show me what you can do.”

  Damn, he’s even taking dirty talk to the next level to get me to come. I appreciate his effort, but as soon as I grind myself back and forth a couple times, I know it’s not going to happen.

  I hang my head as I prop my hands up on his chest. “This never happens. Fuck.”

  I’m fully aware I sound like a teenage boy unable to get any wind in his sails. But it just doesn’t. I always come during sex, whether it’s with the help of my partner or not. I’ve never had a problem. Then again, I’ve never not been able to focus on the one thing I’m really, really good at.

  “What can I do?” Clint senses my distraught.

  “Talk to the orgasm gods and tell them to give me mine back?” I joke as I collapse onto his chest, his dick still fully buried inside of me.

  “Well, it seems like you’ve taken coming off of the table. What’s up?” Clint’s hand rubs up and down my back. He uses his other to brush my red locks from my eyes and tip my head up to look into his.

  “I don’t know!” I whine like a pissed off child. “I can’t get out of my head. Believe me, I want to do you until we’re both screaming from orgasmic bliss. But my fucking brain won’t turn off.”

  He smiles, and I feel his tool twitch inside of me at the word orgasmic. I roll off of him, aware that I’m probably not helping by straddling his fully-hard member.

  “What’s on your mind?” Clint is always so patient with me.

  “Nothing …” I huff, crossing my arms over my very naked body.

  He rolls up onto his side so that we were now lying face-to-face. Jesus, he is fucking hot. If only my vagina would detach from my brain. Clint raises one eyebrow, telling me silently to spill it.

  “Ugh. I don’t know. This whole year has just been a mess. With my family that is. If family is even the word for it. After Africa, I just thought I would never have to deal with my parents again. And then my mom comes along today and drops this huge fucking bomb on me. I’m talking Hiroshima type bomb. She has information, or someone has information, that could affect my life forever. And I just don’t know if I can handle it. Or if I even want to.” Clint strokes his fingers up and down my arm as I talk, causing a wave of goose bumps to move down my flesh. “It’s just not fair. I didn’t ask to be born with sucky parents.”

  Those aqua eyes fill with amusement. “Not getting what you want doesn’t happen to you often, does it?”

  I consider his words and shake my head. “No, not really.”

  He chuckles. “Life isn’t fair, Roo. And lots of people looking at yours, they would be jealous as hell. Did you know that I grew up almost dirt poor?”

  I suspected that Clint didn’t come from a long line of Rockefeller’s, but his words make my jaw drop.

  He goes on. “That’s right. My mom and dad worked two or three dead-end jobs to put Goodwill clothing on me and my brothers’ backs and crappy food on our table. I slept on a couch for most of my teenage years. We ate whatever my parents could afford, which was usually crap fast food. Speaks volumes about the price of good nutrition in this country.”

  I hug my body tighter. I want to reach out and hold Clint, but think it would be too intimate. That would be something a girlfriend does.

  “But you know what life did give me? A wicked good arm and the knack to read a baseball field. I changed what I could, my weight namely, but accepted where I came from. I accept that my parents were always going to live the way they did, and I made peace with all of that. Out of anyone, I think you would understand that life is too short to hold on to things. Life is fucking unfair. But all you can do is change what you can and let go of what you don’t want.”

  An odd sensation ripples within the walls of my chest. Admiration? Compassion? Love. The word flits across my brain before I can stop it. No. That’s not what I feel for Clint. I love him as a friend. That’s it. This melting in my chest has nothing to do with the fact that he sees me right down to my soul. That he has just perfectly summed up the way I should view the world. I have to get out of here.

  “Who knew you, the big dumb jock, is so wise?” I wink and sit up, searching the room for the oversize T-shirt he pulled off my body half an hour ago.

  “Kels, stay with me.” Clint’s eyes beg me, his whole body strains toward me like he might make a grab for me as I try to escape.

  “I’m tired, dude. Need my beauty rest.” I plaster my panty-dropper grin on my face. “I’ll make this up to you, promise.”

  I hear him mutter, “I don’t care about the sex,” as I scamper from the room like a coward.

  Once I’m back in my makeshift room, I face-plant onto the bed. I am such a stupid fucking chick. Catching feelings for a dude I’m hooking up with? No matter who he is, friend or not, this is not acceptable. As my mother said, unconditional, everlasting love doesn’t exist. I’m not taking any chance of ending up like the two monsters who created me. Or ruining Clint because of my fucked-up view on love. No, thank you, ma’am.

  I need to end this with him. It has gone on long enough. Almost two months hooking up with the same guy. No other screwing around? That’s practically a relationship in itself to me. And even if there is a way we can be together, I know I will inevitably screw it up. I have no head space to add my first official boyfriend to the list as well.

  But to stay friends, I have to convince him this is his idea. That we should go back to the mainland of Friends and leave the island of Benefits. And I think I have just the way.

  * * *

  I’m in the kitchen the next day making a snack plate for Clint and I’s Netflix marathon when Parker walks in.

  “Hey, dude.” I try to act friendly.

  Parker gives a noncommittal sound and slinks over to the sink. Marnie struts in and begins to rub up against his legs. Traitor.

  “Or not,” I mutter to myself. I’m getting sick of his bitchy attitude.

  “Why are you still here?” He turns around and basically spits at me.

  Well, well, well. I’ve flicked the sleeping beast. The devil on my shoulder winks at me and laughs. I am not-so-secretly loving this.

  “Um … I live here?”

  He slams the plate he’s cleaning down on the counter. “Actually, you don’t. You’ve been freeloading off of us for six months and fucking with my best friend’s head. But no, you don’t live here.”

  My mouth is so wide that if a fly flew down my throat, I probably wouldn’t notice. What the fuck did he just say to me?

  “Excuse me? Owen and Clint have no problem with me being here. And I carry my weight. Making dinner for you all, cleaning up, and paying my share of the utilities. And if you’re jealous that your roommate is getting ass and you’re not … well, then I don’t know what to tell you. Use your hand. Or maybe perk up a bit and some girl will want to fuck you.”

  Parker starts laughing his head off like I’m the best female comedian in all of Grover. I shift uncomfortably. I do not like being the butt of jokes. I hate the sensation of someone teasing or schooling me because it doesn’t happen often.

  “Are you blind or just dumb? Or just really selfish. My best friend, Clint, is not simply ‘getting ass’ from you.” He uses his fingers as air quotes when he says getting ass. “Have you even taken the time to ask why he lost all of the weight? Probably not, since the world revolves around you. Especially his world. From the day you stepped foot in this house two years ago, he’s been batshit crazy, head over heels in love with you. Anyone with a pea for a brain can see it. Christ, Kelsey, he bought you a fucking kitten! And you’re a bitch for exploiting his feelings just so he can be the next notch on your very long bedpost. So yes, excuse you, you freeloading piece of crap.”

  If my mouth was wide before, my jaw has now definitely detached and is laying somewhere by my feet. Shame and heat creep through my system in a slow burn, and a lump of unshed tears form at the back of my throat.

  “What do you mean ‘Why he lost the wei
ght?’” It’s the one thought I am allowing to penetrate my brain. The rest of Parker’s insults are too raw for me to take right now.

  He has turned back around and speaks over his shoulder without addressing me. “Seriously? The first time you met at that party when you girls were still in high school? He was like a puppy following you around, and you wouldn’t give him the time of day. Eventually, you let him into the friend zone, but even then you didn’t give him a passing glance if some guy with a six-pack was nearby. He wanted to be good enough. For you. Lord knows why. That’s why he’s been eating grass and doing two-a-days in the gym until he almost passes out. So that you would finally look at him.”

  Parker looks back at me in disgust. “Guess it worked. Your shallow self took notice, finally.”

  I feel like I’ve been whacked upside the head with a two-by-four. He changed who he was, what he looked like, for me? I back out of the kitchen, away from Parker and his scathing accusations.

  Clint calls out from his room. “Be there in two seconds, Roo!”

  Shit. I can’t sit there and have a movie night with him. I duck into the bathroom and try to get my breathing under control.

  Am I really that bad of a person? Parker spoke to me like I am worse than scum, and right now I definitely feel like it. He’s right. I hadn’t taken notice of Clint, not in a sexual way, until he looked like he does now. I put him in the friend zone, only allowing him to be of best friend status when I was in Africa. And so he changed. He killed himself to get me to notice. I am such a bitch.

  And am I really too blind to notice that he’s in love with me? Of course, I’m not. Deep down I’ve known it all along. Guys like Clint don’t do hookups and friends with benefits. He’s been trying to turn this into something permanent from the start, and I’ve been too selfish to cut him loose, let him down at the beginning. Secretly, I like that he’s in love with me. It means I am a person that can be loved, at least by someone.

  I splash my face with cold water trying to calm down and get the tears to stop pricking my eyes. This is my mother’s fault. My whole screwed-up family’s fault. Maybe if I hadn’t been raised by robots. If I hadn’t been lied to my entire life just because my mother doesn’t believe in emotions. If I’d known my real father, if he’d been a decent person.

  But I hadn’t had any of those things. And it has led me to be the fucked-up person I am now; unable to get too close to someone to ever let them truly hurt me, or truly love me.

  If it’s not evident I needed to cut this off before, it certainly is now. I take a deep breath, steel myself and walk out to go shatter the heart of the one person in the world I might actually love.

  Parker darts down the hall in front of me, throws me a bitchy glance, and walks out the front door. I know Minka and Owen have gone home for the weekend to meet with his new agent. So it’s just me and Clint. I already feel the guilt begin to roil in my stomach.

  “Okay. James Bond or that movie about the guy who follows that band around with Kate Hudson?”

  I smile. “Almost Famous? That movie rocks, I can’t believe you’ve never seen it. I used to dream that one day I’d become Penny Lane, going on tour with famous rock bands and making lead singers my bitch.”

  Clint laughs. “That would be your idol.”

  I bite my lip until I feel blood and then lick it away. I already despise myself for saying what I am about to. Might as well get it over with.

  “So listen, I’ve been thinking … it’s time we put my teaching skills to the test.”

  “Hmm?” Clint is only half-listening to me as he sets up the TV.

  “I think you need to fuck someone else.”

  He stops, his sharp gaze coming up to meet mine. “If this is a joke I don’t think it’s very funny.”

  “It’s not.” I squirm. “I think you need to experience other things, and I’ve been a stellar teacher so, it’s time to let the baby bird fly free!”

  I try to smile and act like this doesn’t feel like I’m taking a knife to my own heart.

  “What the … where is this coming from? I don’t want to be with anyone else.”

  “Oh, come on, Clint, you can’t sleep with your best friend forever. Eventually, we need to find you a nice girl to impress with your new moves.”

  Clint’s face is pure anger now, his stubbled, sharp cheekbones flooding with color. “I have a girl right here that I happen to like a whole lot, and she seems impressed by my new moves. What’s this about, Kelsey? Let’s get to the truth of it. You always say honesty is the best policy, well let’s have it.”

  I feel fragile, like if he raises his voice at me on more time, I might break. “Why did you lose all of the weight?”

  Clint pales. And I know for certain it has something to do with me. “You didn’t do it for yourself, right? You were always fine like that before. Did you … did it have to do with me?”

  He faces the TV, refusing to look at me. “Where would you get that idea?”

  “Parker told me.”

  “Fucking, Parker,” he mumbles. “Do you know you didn’t even give me two glances the first time we met? I had to go out of my way that entire first weekend to even get you to remember me? Do you know how hard it was to pester you until you finally even considered me a friend?”

  I bite back a sob and try to keep my face composed. “I always liked you! No matter what you looked like!”

  “But you only started sleeping with me when I had this body, right?” He turns to me then.

  “I … I’m sorry. Do you want me to admit I’m a shallow, disgusting person? I’ll gladly do that. I’ve never been anything but that, Clint. You should know that. I know we’ve been hooking up for a while, but I haven’t changed.”

  That’s a lie, but I need him to want out. I have to break myself off from him now, or soon it would be too late.

  “Come on, Kelsey. We haven’t just been hooking up. We’re practically dating! Neither of us has even looked at another person since we started having sex. We eat meals together, we talk on the phone. We fucking live together. That’s a relationship! You can’t deny it.”

  “Actually, I can. Because I told you from the start, I don’t do boyfriends. This was a friends with benefits situation only. If anyone was lying to you, it was yourself. You wanted to make this into something it wasn’t, I never led you there.”

  That was such a lie, and I knew it.

  “Don’t do this, Roo. We have come so far from where we were. And I know you feel it too.” He grasps my hands now. “I know this scares you, but we can take it as slow as you want. We can go back to no sex, and see where it goes. Just don’t let yourself cop out on this one. We could be great together. We already are.”

  Those aquamarines plead with me. A small sliver of me wants to say yes, to try and be with him for real. But I can’t do it. I’ve already caused him pain he doesn’t even realize yet, and if I keep doing this, I will only cause him more. Parker is right.

  “I can’t. It’s just not me. I’m not built for love, Clint, and I never lied to you about that. We need to stop this, find other people to hang out with. I don’t want to hurt you any more than I have, and I just don’t feel the same way.”

  The look on his face cuts me deep. His beautiful, sharp-angled features are drawn in sorrow. His built, masculine form wilts like a dried-up flower. It’s like a blunt knife being stuck into my gut over and over again.

  Even so, I manage to get up off the couch and walk out, leaving him.

  17

  Clint

  And we’re back to where we were on the first night of the summer all over again, when Kelsey was drunk as a skunk and sucking face with some loser.

  Okay, so this time she doesn’t have her tongue stuck down a guy’s throat and she’s only on her second beer, but I still want to throttle the guy she’s making flirty eyes at in the corner of Sammy’s.

  Hook up with someone new. That’s what she threw at me three days ago. I don’t know if this is a tes
t, if she is really breaking whatever this thing is off, or what’s going on. All I know is that I don’t notice any other girl in the bar except for her, and that I am going to punch this tall hipster in the throat if he makes any more effort to subtly graze her arm.

  I order another shot of Jack, thinking that if I can just get drunk enough, I might have the guts to go over there and start something.

  “Slow down, killer.” Parker smiles his shit-eating grin from the stool next to me.

  “Fuck off.” I’m still not fully talking to him. I can’t believe he said something to Kelsey. In Parker’s messed-up brain, he was only trying to be a friend, but in reality, he fucked everything up.

  “Come on, bro. You have to let this go sometime. Look at her, anyway. She didn’t waste one minute finding her new Mr. Right Now.”

  “That’s because you scared her off! Instead of slowly trying to coax her into a relationship, like I was doing, if you’d ever bothered to ask, you sent her fleeing like a scared gazelle.”

  He shrugs. “A leopard don’t change its spots, buddy. Lie to yourself all you want, but that one is not relationship material.”

  He points at Kelsey, who is shimmying in her short gray T-shirt dress. I think I bare my teeth.

  “If she can do it, so can you. See that brunette over there? She’s been eyeing you all night. Best way to get over someone is to get on top of someone else. Go get ’em, tiger.”

  Parker slaps me on the shoulder and shoves me in the brunette’s direction.

  She isn’t bad looking, but she’s just typical. She’s a pretty girl, nothing unique or striking about her. She’s not Kelsey.

  And speak of the devil, out of the corner of my eye I wee Roo notice my movement toward the other girl. Am I scorned enough to make her jealous? Absolutely.

  I walk up to the brunette who immediately begins thrusting out her chest and batting her eyelashes. It’s all so obvious, and when I ask her to dance and take her elbow to lead us to the floor, she molds herself into my body.