The Best Moments (The Amherst Sinners Book 2)

by Elena Monroe

  I whispered between us, “I love you, Layla.”

  I didn’t mean to blurt it out or slow down our need for each other. It came out without permission, unwilling to be caged since the moment I told her.

  Her arms wrapped around my neck long enough for our mouths to open and tongues to tangle. We were both breathing heavily against each other’s lips, not trying to gain control. I pulled away long enough to rip my own shirt off, losing more control.

  I needed her in this devastating way I never needed anyone else. She was the glue holding all my broken pieces together. It was both terrifying and empowering, just like her. She’d be my happy ending or my demise.

  Her chest heaved heavy breaths, and an inpatient moan escaped her lips. I picked her up, legs around my waist, my hands holding her up against me, and her lips against mine again. I walked towards the office, only stopping to let the hallway hold her up against me, leaving enough space for her hands to undo my belt and jeans. Her legs tightened around me again, and I held her up until I made it to the desk—a desk I suddenly wanted to pollute with memories of her, memories of us to keep me anchored to reality when I’d sneak in here to get high.

  Our hungry mouths didn’t let up, even when we tried to pull away from each other enough to continue to undress. I unclipped her bra, as I kissed her shoulders and listened to her breaths become more wild. I trailed kisses down to her nipples, letting my lips clamp down around her, softly sucking. She arched her back into me, making me move with more urgency, as my fingers found the button on her jeans.

  I watched her wrestle them off, as I found my wallet that housed the foil wrapper I needed. I pushed my jeans off, leaving my briefs as the only article of clothing on my body. Her lips tasted like watermelon. I wanted them wrapped around my length, but I was too turned on not to be inside her.

  I was so hard that I was blinded to how hard or soft I was even being with her. I made an effort to always be more gentle with her. She wasn’t some girl I’d just forget about the next day or took my anger out on. She was to be cherished—worshipped. She deserved the best parts of me—the parts of me that would kick my bad habits.

  She opened her legs wide, leaning back on the desk, inviting me inside after her hands slid down my abs that were no longer soft. My fingers pushed her panties to the side slowly, brushing her sensitive parts as I did. I tugged my waistband down, exposing my hard cock and ripping the condom open. She was snug around me, even as I barely eased my length inside her, leaving us both exhaling in relief.

  She withered against the desk, with her hips grinding into me in a way that begged me to stop teasing her. My hands wrapped around her thighs, holding her in place, as I picked up the pace. She clawed at my arms, trying to grasp onto anything she could. Her hands found my arms, and I was mesmerized by her expression. Her mouth fell open, and her eyebrows melted into an anticipation. Both using a good grasp with each other.

  “Please, Oliver…”

  She was coming undone under me. I was addicted to her, to making her feel this close to bliss, even more than the blow hidden in this same room.

  She contoured to every inch of me, and I was coming just as undone as she was. The slap of our skin colliding with each thrust made me aware of how close we both were.

  She whimpered out, “I’m close, Oliver…”

  Hearing my name, soaked in her moan, made it easier to stop holding out any longer. Her nails and hips dug into me more, begging harder.

  “Don’t stop…”

  I pushed into her as deeply as I could, pausing, letting myself fall off the reality cliff into the heaven I knew as Layla. She was warm, tight, and full of the acceptance I always searched for in bad habits. I couldn’t catch my breath, letting my body fall on top of her.

  After I took a moment to regain composure, I pushed the condom off, tossing it in the office trash before I pulled off my boxers. Layla grabbed my hand, pulling me back to her, between my legs.

  “I know your tricks, mister. When you wanna finally talk, I’m here.”

  I kissed her lips, silently thanking her for the support, but my silence told her exactly how I wasn’t ready to share. She searched for her shirt, pulling it over her still hard nipples. She bounced off the desk, pulling up her panties and collecting the rest of her clothes, before leaving the room. I took the moment of privacy to look out the window into my parents room, while I flipped through the pages of my favorite book, exposing my bad habit.

  I saw Richard drinking his scotch in the window, doing what I was: reflecting. My parents were doing better than ever before. My mother’s suspicions turned into my meltdown and my father’s cracks in his stone. Both contributed to their united front now. Even with their lows, I still admired the years under their belt and inability to give up. I wanted what they had. Layla and I were almost to the finish line of one year, if we could just make it through this summer.

  After one half bump, I closed the book, completing my daily half dose. I forced myself to be sober all day until now. I had papers to grade, two papers to write, and an internship to choose for the summer. I kissed her cheek, breezing by the kitchen and the food we picked up, to instead shower off her scent that covered me. I wanted to live in it, but I forced the distance after just getting high. I was convinced she’d see through me, and my secret would be out.

  My phone buzzed against the counter in the bathroom. I unlocked it to read a message from a number I didn’t have saved as a contact; it was from a slew of numbers I didn’t recognize: Come clean to Layla before summer break.

  That’s all the message said—direct and to the point. There was no room for interpretation. I didn’t flinch or feel any less relaxed than I was. I was freshly out of a hot shower and just getting my balance back after fucking Layla on my desk. An empty threat text wasn’t going to ruin this high.

  I texted back a confident response: About what?

  Suddenly, my curiosity was piqued as to what I needed to come clean about, when I knew I had secrets. What this person knew was the mystery I was focused on.

  I didn’t even have time to lock and put my phone down before my phone buzzed again with a reply of just snowflake emojis to represent blow. I became stiff all over. Someone knew, and I didn’t know who it could be, besides Hunter. The cool air against my moist body turn to steam—angry, violent steam. I didn’t respond or egg them on like I wanted to. I simply locked my phone before slamming it down. I was stuck in this place of not being able to do a damn thing about it. I had no idea what dorm he was in; otherwise, I’d find him and shut him up from threatening me.

  The rest of the night my mind drifted to ways I’d hurt him. Just hearing him saying her name in my mind was enough to push me over the edge into the black parts of my mind, where I’d lose control—the parts of me that was unapologetic, cruel, unaccepting of happiness, and willing to burn it all down for one thrill.

  The next morning, we went to the coffee shop, meeting everyone else there, like routine. I used to hate routines and expectations, defying them all at once, with pleasure. People pushed me into a box of “misbehaved”, “rude”, and “violent” for longer than I could remember. I made breaking the rules my favorite bad habit, bred out of stereotypes.

  We were the last ones to show up. Hunter was sitting in the worn-out chair I claimed as mine, and I was ignited in one glance. Layla tugged my hand towards her, trying to make it to the line to order. I stood there, still just staring at his smug face, pretending he didn’t notice we were here.

  I gave in, letting Layla’s strength outweigh my own. I put my arm around her and ordered my usual, still contemplating breaking him one more time. I stewed in the anger as I waited for my coffee. As soon as we sat down with everyone, Elizabeth jumped into her planning and plotting mode, asking our opinion on a thousand details for the end of the year party in two weeks. I watched Layla feed off her excitement, and she recruited Maddison in the mix. I texted Caden, even though he was only a few seats away, but what I had to sa
y needed to stay private. He looked down at his phone, instantly shooting up at the screen cap I sent him. I knew it was safe to send it to him in a group setting; he was too calculating and protective of our group to say anything out loud.

  He stood there, gaining everyone’s eyes, when he forced his anger to dissolve, and he laughed. His charm covering it all up automatically, without effort. “Ollie, a word? Outside.”

  Everyone looked at me, judging what I did to merit the authoritative tone summoning me outside. I couldn’t just tell everyone what he’d just learned: that I wasn’t sober, and someone was threatening me with that same information. I needed someone to tell, and Caden was without a doubt the person I trusted most, behind Layla. I got up, telling Layla I’d be back, and walked off, making slanted eyes at Hunter in a warning shot.

  As soon as we stepped outside, Caden manhandled me behind my back, throwing me against the brick. He shouted in the inches separating our faces, “Are you fucking serious?!”

  I’m sure that’s all he could think of this quickly; our spot out the back door wasn’t a long walk.

  “That’s not the point…” My dry, flat tone didn’t amuse him. He pushed me further into the brick, before he backed away, trying not to hurt me any further. I didn’t blame him. I was disappointing everyone constantly with my bad habits, and everyone was at the end of their ropes with forgiving me. I was watching the whole rope fray to nothing with Caden.

  He continued to shout: “We forgive everything you do, because you’re this fragile fucking dove with a broken wing! I’m fucking done, Ollie! I’m not watching you do this again. Wasn’t it a wakeup call when I outed you? What happened to getting sober your way?”

  I pulled out a cigarette, letting it hang from my lips, while I pulled out my lighter. I took all he said because I deserved it, every painful word.

  “I am getting off that shit. I’m doing less and less every damn day, my way. This isn’t about my sobriety, Caden. It’s about who’s sending me texts threatening Layla.”

  Caden stopped pacing to push me again, and my shoulder blades bounced against the brick. I exhaled smoke, waiting for him to reply.

  “Your way doesn’t work, Ollie. You’re a fucking addict! Maybe her knowing will finally set you straight.”

  I pulled the cigarette from my mouth again, making sure he had my full attention and saw every detail of my expression. I was ready to fight anyone with that opinion. “She’s not knowing. Period. I’ll be sober again soon.”

  His eyes were wide, looking at me like I spoke German and he was trying to decode it. “Do you even hear yourself?!”

  “Caden, shut the fuck up! Someone is fucking with me, which means someone is fucking with this group. Do you think anyone’s secrets are safe if someone knows that?”

  He dropped his head, thinking beyond learning of my lack of sobriety this time. “Okay, okay. Who do you think it is?”

  I took an inhale from my cigarette before he ripped it from my fingers. I told him exactly who I knew it was, and Caden didn’t disagree. Neither of us had his number to compare. We stood outside, contemplating his motives and reasons for being here in the first place.

  Before we went back inside, Caden pushed his hand against my chest.

  “Don’t do anything stupid. Let me figure this out first.”

  I rolled my eyes, propped against the hallway wall, unamused with his warning altogether. Layla looked worried when I sat back down next to her, but I assured her with a simple shake of my head. I zoned out all the conversations I didn’t care about. That was what I normally did in this group. Unless someone spoke to me directly, I stayed quiet and in my head.

  I watched Hunter like a hawk, waiting for any excuse to react badly, like I always did—destructively.

  I hated waking up and even more so knowing Oliver never came to bed. His side was completely untouched, and the room felt emptier. I wished he would have messed up his pillow or untucked his blankets—a white lie I’d overlook if it convinced me he slept next to me even for an hour.

  I stayed with him all this week—the last week of the academic school year. Staying with him made it easy to be aware of how he never slept next to me. Each morning, I found him passed out in the armchair in the office, almost peaceful looking. I hated waking him up, so I never did. I came to terms with being late if it meant letting him sleep, which he desperately needed to. The insomnia wasn’t a joke. He would be up well past three in the morning most nights. I never knew what kept him up: the future or the past.

  I sat at the island with my coffee, patiently waiting for him to wake. I still couldn’t afford the steep summer dorm cost, and I planned to take him up on his offer to stay with him just to avoid going home. I planned to tell him tonight at the bonfire after last classes. Keeping this a secret, really a surprise, didn’t seem like a good idea.

  Oliver had been the same amount of distant and silent as before. The only difference was his growing hate for Hunter. He even made the outrageous demand for me to cut him out of my life, even after our budding friendship. The demand made me feel trapped and controlled, like the old version of me. The suggestion alone irritated the confidence I grew.

  I kept telling him to leave it alone. He asked me, out of respect, to keep our friendship separate, so I did, for months, until he lifted the ban on Hunter. I gave him respect that he wasn’t paying back in full now.

  Maddison FaceTimed me as I walked back upstairs to change. We started Facetiming every morning as we got ready for classes. She was stunned I was still in my pink satin robe and not in a panic at being late.

  “You feeling okay? You know we have class in like an hour. In Layla time, that’s like fifteen minutes.”

  We both laughed at her mocking my need to be early for everything. I told her I was at Oliver’s, and he was asleep still, basically thirty minutes from campus, stranded. I made sure not to complain, even though I was internally malfunctioning at missing the last day of classes.

  She groaned before saying, “Get dressed. I’ll be there in ten.”

  I knew she lived close, but that was very close. I got dressed so quickly I felt dizzy making sure I had enough time to leave a note. I scrawled: Maddison picked me up. See you at the bonfire! Don’t forget I’m getting ready at Hayley’s. Love, L

  I propped it against an orange for him, even though his breakfast only ever contained cigarettes and coffee.

  Campus was buzzing more than usual. Summer would be here in less than eight hours, and everyone was anticipating each minute getting them closer. Even I had a pep in my step that I didn’t have before. I only had two classes today; if students took exams last week, which I did for several classes, it wasn’t required to attend this week. Leaving a few classes I had to attend all day instead of a full schedule.

  Maddison and I had math together first thing. Hunter transferred in a few months ago when someone dropped the class and created an available spot. He was distracting and obnoxious. If he passed the exam he wouldn’t have to take the class next year. He was always kicking his feet up and making sure everyone around him knew just how uninterested he was in everything. I wished he would have dropped this act after high school, but I knew deep down this was him.

  All the faults, entirely him, no apologies.

  After class, Maddison walked with me to my next one, since it was her only class of the day, and Hunter trailed behind us, listening to our excitement for the bonfire. These fires were only twice a year, to mark both the beginning and the end, making them special. Bookmarks for all the memories.

  Elizabeth was putting a lot of work into this party. You could tell she was mid realization that they were halfway through college and feeling nostalgic over the two years under her belt. Nostalgia was infectious. It made me reminisce over everything up until this point.

  The rest of the day was cloudy with memories of high school, of this year, and what the future could even be. I had completed my freshman year with A’s, gained more experiences than I coul
d dream, gave my virginity away after it was taken, fell in love, stopped holding on so tightly to my secrets, and met people I would call my tribe for hopefully forever. There was duel overwhelming feelings of accomplishment and disbelief.

  Time flew and yet we moved on—dreaming while awake.

  I walked out of my last class, stuck in the same haze. The humidity only got stronger as the day went on. I regretted my oversized sweater now, only wearing a small white tank underneath when the morning chill felt unbearable. I was hoping I’d get use to the up-and-down weather of New England eventually. It was taunting every choice of clothing I made.

  I heard quick, fast steps behind me and slid to one side of the sidewalk, thinking someone was jogging. I turned around and saw Hunter’s lanky body at a pace of urgency I never saw before. It almost made me laugh, since he always skipped gym in high school.

  “Hey, I wanted to talk to you before the party tonight…”

  I cocked an eyebrow at him, waiting for more to come out of his mouth. He looked around, surveying who was listening when no one was.

  “It’s about Oliver.”

  I sighed, waiting for this moment to finally come. I had been waiting for the shoe to drop since he arrived on campus. Hunter never stopped plotting or planning; it was the one part of him I admired—his willingness to stick to the long game if it meant getting what he wanted. I was just scared that what he wanted was… me. I nodded my head slowly in a silent proceed plead.

  “How well do you know about his past, Layla?”

  “Spare me the dramatics, Hunter. Just get to your point.”

  He stood in front of me with the coffee shop in the distance. He wanted to stop before we got there. He wanted privacy. I folded my arms, not completely willing to hear whatever he had to say.

  “Jade. She’s— They—”

  He kept cutting himself off like he couldn’t bring himself to say any of it, which meant I really wasn’t going to want to hear this, but I probably should.