Close to Me

by Monica Murphy

  If Rylie hadn’t confronted me, I would’ve been a daydreaming mess all day long, thinking about what happened between Ash and me last night. But his stupid ex had to ruin it all with her jealous outburst.

  “Callahan.” He smiles when he sees me, and it’s like a ray of sunshine being shot straight at me. “I didn’t hear you.”

  “Your music is loud.” It’s some rap song that’s vaguely familiar. A few years ago Mom tried to stop all of us from listening to that kind of music because she hated the foul language, but after a while, she gave up, admitting that when she was our age, she liked that music too.

  He hits pause on his phone and the music shuts off. He must have it hooked up to a speaker—where did he get it? And where is it?

  I’m so concerned with a stupid speaker I don’t realize he’s slid off the bed and made his way to me until his arms are around my waist, pulling me in close so I make contact with all that gloriously warm, hard skin that’s on display.

  “Missed you,” he murmurs just before he kisses me.

  I try to wiggle myself out of his arms. “I’m all sweaty from practice.”

  “I don’t mind.” His hands slide over my butt and tug me in nice and close. I can already feel his erection beneath his loose sweatpants, and this time I do manage to get myself out of his hold.

  “My mom is in the kitchen,” I whisper-hiss. “Ava and Beck are home too.”

  “So.” Ash shrugs. “No one comes back here.”

  He’s not wrong, but I don’t feel right messing around with him when my mother is right there, making dinner and chatting with Beck. I can hear them. They’re really not that far.

  “Something happened today,” I start, but Ash interrupts me.

  “I heard.”

  I’m gaping at him for a long, confused couple of seconds before I snap my lips shut. “What do you mean, you heard?”

  “Rylie tried to start a fight with you and called you a slut. I heard.” He shrugs again, and I’m starting to hate those shrugs. He’s so nonchalant, like it’s no big deal, yet his psycho ex-girlfriend or whatever he calls her tried to fight me and she called me a slut.

  That’s kind of major. I don’t deal with that sort of thing. It’s not the norm.

  “I’ve never had that happen to me before,” I tell him slowly, overly pronouncing each word like he’s a little kid and can’t understand.

  “Welcome to my world, baby,” he says with a grin, trying to grab me yet again, but I dodge away from his hands.

  “No, that’s bullshit. I had to go to Adney’s office. She told me if Rylie and I get into a physical fight, I could get suspended.” I stare at him incredulously while he chews on a hangnail. “That kind of thing never happens to me, Ash.”

  “You said that already.” He studies his hands, doesn’t even bother looking at me. “Happens to me all the time.”

  “And you’re okay with it?” My voice is shrill, and I tell myself to calm down.

  “I’m used to it.” He pauses. “Clearly you’re not okay with it.”

  “I’m not. Not at all. Rylie scared me. She pushed me. If my coach hadn’t shown up when she did, I think Rylie would’ve started fighting me.”

  “She’s a complete bitch. Fuck that chick.” He waves a dismissive hand. “What did you tell her anyway?”

  “I didn’t tell her anything. She talked like she knew what happened between us last night. She accused me of fucking her boyfriend.” I narrow my eyes, studying him. “You didn’t talk to her, did you?”

  “Hell no. Why would you even ask that question? Are you accusing me of telling her about us? Why the hell would I do that?” His voice starts to rise, and I can tell I’m making him angry.

  This is getting out of control quick. I’m not used to this sort of thing. Ben and I rarely, if ever, fought. I haven’t really had any other boyfriends besides Ben. My parents don’t argue. I don’t even argue with my friends. The only person I fight with is…

  The boy standing in front of me.

  “I’m not accusing you of anything,” I say slowly, again like I’m talking to a child. “I just don’t know how she knew about us.”

  “She’s just guessing, and she guessed right. That’s all. No need to be paranoid.” He goes to the closet and pulls a T-shirt off a hanger, tugging it on. “Ignore her. She’s just pissed because I told her I didn’t like her like that anymore. She’s the one who’s making a bigger deal over it, and we weren’t even officially together.”

  “Try telling her that,” I say.

  “She’ll get over it. They always do.”

  The question pops out of my mouth before I even have a chance to think about it. “Did you have sex with her?”

  He goes still, then turns to face me. “What?”

  “You know what I said.” I cross my arms, waiting for him to answer.

  He at least has the decency to look embarrassed. His cheeks turn a ruddy color and he rubs the back of his neck, his gaze downcast. “Maybe.”

  A big sigh escapes me as my shoulders slump. “Really, Ash? You two were only together a few weeks!”

  “We messed around a little bit, that’s it. It was never anything serious. I don’t know how many times I need to say that.” When I glare at him, he glares right back. “What did you expect? Me to act like a monk while you’re off with Ben for a fucking year?”

  “Ben and I never did anything!”

  “How was I supposed to know that?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because I told you?” My chest hurts, and I feel like I could start crying. Which is so stupid because it’s no big deal, right? So Ash had sex with Rylie Altman. So what. He’s probably had sex with lots of girls at our school. But I’m special. I’m the one he’s always wanted. I’m the one he really cared about.

  Even in my head it sounds like a giant load of shit.

  “I didn’t believe you, okay? I figured you were just saying that to make me feel better.” He’s rubbing the back of his neck so hard he’s making the skin red. “It meant nothing.”

  “What meant nothing?”

  “Sex with Rylie. Sex with any girl I’ve been with before.” He blows out a frustrated breath and runs his hands through his hair, making a mess of it. “I’m not perfect. I never said I was.”

  “I’m not perfect either,” I say, my voice small.

  “Yeah, well, you damn well act like it. Autumn Callahan, the pretty little princess. Adored by her daddy, loved by her mama. Captain of the cheer team, vice president of the senior class. Gets good grades and never let the dirty boy touch her until last night. Now look at you, you’re gonna cry all because I had sex with some dumb chick who’s now pissed off and ready to fight you. So what!” And with that, Ash storms out of the room.

  The tears come the second he leaves and I collapse on the edge of the bed, burying my face in my hands. I feel so stupid. So, so stupid. I thought I mattered. I thought he cared about me.

  I guess not.

  Twenty-Five

  We don’t talk for the rest of the night. He doesn’t come to the table when Mom calls that dinner’s ready, and I know he gets away with it because Dad is at the team dinner along with Jake. I’d bet money Ash would never disrespect my father.

  Yet he’ll disrespect me. No surprise.

  During dinner, Beck never shuts up, as usual, and Ava constantly argues with him, which has Mom coming down on her. I don’t say a word. Just push the food on my plate around with a fork before I ask to be excused.

  The sad look Mom sends me tells me she knows I’m upset, and she nods her answer. I’m out of the chair and upstairs within seconds, vomiting what little food I had in my stomach into the toilet, crying and gasping the whole time.

  God, I really hate throwing up.

  I really hate boys too.

  I brush my teeth and then take a shower and cry. I blowdry my hair and cry a little more. It’s not even nine o’clock and I’m in bed, the lights off, my phone plugged in and sitting on my bedside t
able, forgotten. I don’t want to talk to anyone or scroll Instagram or watch people’s stories. And I sure as hell don’t want to watch TikTok videos to try to put me in a good mood.

  Forget that. I want to wallow in my sadness and curse Asher Davis’s existence under my breath.

  I finally drift off to sleep and my dreams are terrible. Rylie punching me in the face and there’s nothing I can do to stop her. She keeps hitting me until my eye is a slit and I can’t really see. Then it switches to me at a football game, but I’m not cheering. I’m sitting in the stands as I watch Rylie run out onto the football field after a game, hugging Ash close while he stares at me the entire time. He mouths the words it could’ve been you, and that’s enough to jolt me wide awake.

  Only to find Ash sitting on the side of my bed, his hand curled around my shoulder, trying to wake me up.

  “What are you doing in my room?” I scoot away from him and his hand falls from my shoulder. I try my best to breathe evenly to calm my racing heart, but it’s so difficult when he’s right there, especially after my shitty dream.

  I don’t want him in my room, on my bed. I’m still mad at him.

  Yet my skin prickles with awareness when he touches the side of my face, his roughened fingertips skimming my cheek. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “So damn sorry, Autumn. I didn’t mean to fuck this up.”

  That is the first time I’ve ever heard him say those words, and I hate this, but I don’t know if I can believe him. “You’re sorry for what?” I ask warily.

  For lying to me?

  For being mean to me?

  For kissing me?

  For fingering me?

  There are all sorts of things he could be sorry about.

  “For yelling at you earlier. For not understanding where you’re coming from.” He shakes his head, his hand curling into a fist. “I’m fucked up, Callahan. You know this.”

  “No you’re not—” I start to say, but he pounds the mattress with his fist, startling me, and I go quiet.

  “Yes, I am. I’m a complete piece of shit and you know it.” His breathing is ragged, like he’s just run five miles, and I realize he’s extremely upset. More upset than I thought he was. “I’m not worthy of you, and I know it. You know it too. I don’t know what the fuck you see in me, or why you like me so much. We shouldn’t work together.”

  I sit up, pushing my hair away from my face. “You don’t want us to work?”

  He stares at me incredulously. Even in the darkness, I can make out his features. And he looks positively tormented. “What the fuck are you saying? Of course I want us to work. I’ve been chasing after you since freshman year.”

  My heart pangs at his confession. “I probably overreacted. About you having—sex with Rylie.”

  “She doesn’t matter,” he says, his words quick. Fast, fast, like he always is. “She’s never mattered. I only got with her because I didn’t think I could ever be with you. I waited, you know.”

  “Waited for what?”

  “Waited for you. I knew you and Ben broke up at the beginning of the summer. That you broke up with him. I thought you’d come to me eventually. But you never did. You kept doing you, and I kept doing me, and I thought, well, she’s free, and I’m free, and she knows where I’m at. But you never came for me. And then Rylie started sniffing around right when school started, and I was like, fuck it. I’ll get with her. She was a distraction.” He pauses, sending me a rueful smile. “A part of me wanted to make you jealous.”

  “It worked,” I say without hesitation. I’m still a little upset, but it doesn’t pay to lie. I’ve learned that. “Kaya and Daphne told me you two were together, and I was devastated.”

  “Why didn’t you talk to me?”

  “Why didn’t you talk to me?” I throw back at him.

  “You’re the one who always pushed me away. You’re the one who always told me no.” He shakes his head. “I thought it was your turn to come to me.”

  “I can’t read your mind, Ash,” I tell him, my voice dry.

  “Too bad. Well, wait a minute. Maybe that’s a good thing. Then you won’t know about all the dirty things I want to do to you right now.” He grins, his teeth shining white in the semi-darkness, and I smack him lightly, realizing too late my hand makes contact with the bare skin of his chest.

  He grabs hold of my wrist before I can remove my hand, pressing my palm against the center of his chest. “You feel that?”

  His heart is pounding rapidly, like he just ran across a football field at hyper speed. “Yes,” I say softly.

  “That’s all for you. My heart only beats for you, Autumn.” He brings my hand to his mouth and presses a soft kiss upon my skin. “No one else. You own it. You own me.”

  I melt at his words, at the touch his lips on my hand. He loosens his hold on my wrist and I cup his cheek, leaning in so I can press my mouth to his, and then we’re kissing.

  This is a mistake.

  The words pound through my mind as I open my mouth to Ash, my tongue darting out to meet his. He’s still just in those loose sweatpants, and I’m only in a tank top and a pair of panties. The moment our bodies brush against each other, it’s electric, sparks crackling between us, and I eagerly reach for him, my hands sliding down his back, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of his sweats to find him bare-assed beneath.

  How can it be a mistake when it feels so good? When we know just how to touch each other? Maybe it’s not a mistake. Maybe this can work after all.

  Ash groans against my lips, and within seconds I’m lying in the middle of my bed, his hips nestled between my legs, his entire body aligned with mine, our lips locked, tongues tangling. His hands slip beneath my tank and I help him get rid of it. I shove at his sweatpants and he kicks them off. His fingers slip beneath the front of my panties and then I’m batting his hand away, pushing him away, sitting up so I can catch my breath.

  “What’s wrong?” He leans in and drops tiny kisses down my neck, his fingers brushing back and forth across my left nipple, making me tingle.

  Making me squirm.

  “Stop,” I tell him, my voice firm. “I can’t think.”

  His mouth is gone in an instant, his fingers falling away from my breasts. He backs up until he’s standing naked by the side of my bed, and I stare up at him. “You say stop, I’ll stop.” He holds his hands up in front of him like the cops have their guns drawn and he’s about to get arrested.

  “I’m guessing you still don’t have a condom,” I say, and he shakes his head.

  “We don’t need condoms. Not tonight. Just…let me touch you.” The pleading look on his face is my downfall.

  I hold my hand out to him and he takes it, rejoining me on the bed. “Lie back,” he whispers, and I do as I’m told, whimpering when he kisses me, drugs me with his tongue and lips.

  It’s too much and it’s not enough, all at once. He moves down my body, kissing me everywhere. My neck, my shoulders, my chest, the skin between my breasts. He cups them, his thumbs rubbing my nipples before he sucks one, then the other in his mouth. I watch him, then close my eyes, embarrassed. Overwhelmed. It’s so weird, to do this, to be so intimate with someone.

  Yet it’s not weird at all, not with Ash. It’s like we were meant to do this, and that’s why I couldn’t do it with anyone else. I was saving myself.

  For Ash.

  He kisses me across my stomach, licking at my bellybutton and making me yelp. He drops a kiss on my left hipbone, and then my right. And then he spreads my legs, his mouth landing on the inside of my thigh, and I almost jump out of my skin.

  “Sshh,” he whispers. I didn’t realize I made a noise, but I must’ve. “Be quiet.”

  I clamp my lips shut and close my eyes tight, a little moan falling from my lips when he kisses and nibbles my sensitive skin, drawing closer and closer to where I want him. My hand falls on top of his head and I curl my fingers in his thick, soft hair, tugging hard, making him grunt.

  He goes still, he’s
not doing anything, and I crack my eyes open to find he’s staring at me, his face between my legs, his eyes wide and unblinking.

  “What are you doing?” I ask softly.

  “Looking at you,” he answers.

  “Why?”

  “I can’t believe we’re doing this. That I’m in your bed.” He drops a kiss just above my pubic hair, making me jump. “That you’re letting me do this.”

  “Do what?” For some twisted reason I want to hear him say what he plans on doing to me.

  “Eat you out.” He says this with a grin just before he plants both hands on the inside of my thighs and nuzzles me with his nose. Then licks me with his wicked tongue.

  It’s like this for long, torturous minutes. Anytime I make a noise, he shushes me. He licks me everywhere, and I mean everywhere, and I almost want to die from embarrassment, but it feels too good so I just savor it. I close my eyes sometimes because it’s too much, and then I have to open them so I can watch his dark head between my thighs, his tongue licking, his lips sucking, and then it becomes too much again.

  And when he slips his fingers inside of me, it’s way too much, and I’m coming. Shivering and shaking, my legs bowed, my toes curled, my entire body going stiff just before I collapse in a boneless heap.

  He kisses his way back up my body, his mouth landing on mine, and the kiss turns dirty in an instant. All tongue and teeth and sucking lips. I can taste myself, like tangy salt, and when he breaks the kiss he smiles down at me, looking very pleased with himself.

  “You’re a dirty girl, Callahan.”

  I wrap my legs around his hips, anchoring myself to him. “You like it.”

  “I fucking love it.” He kisses me again, and it goes on for minutes. Long, delicious minutes until I start to feel his insistent erection poking against my thigh.

  It’s his turn, but this time I’m not going to announce that out loud. Instead, I break the kiss and gently shove at his shoulder, sending him onto his back. He watches me, his lips curved into a closed-mouth smile, his dark eyes dancing with excitement, and then I’m the one who’s raining kisses all over his beautiful body. I explore every inch that I can, flicking my tongue against his tiny nipples, licking at his navel, my tongue blazing a path along the line of dark hair that leads from the base of his navel all the way to his erection.