by S. Massery
Hale almost caught on. He would’ve been on the sidelines, watching his friend like a hawk. They rarely share a field together—just the nature of their positions. But he can’t deny the bottle found in Sebastian’s bag. The collection of needles.
I’ve been dosing Sebastian for three days.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
I’d forgotten she’s still beside me.
“You shouldn’t be alone.” Now she does turn off the engine and unlocks our doors, hopping out before I can protest. She comes around and opens my door, heaving my bag over her shoulder. “Come on. I want to see your place, anyway.”
“It’s just an apartment.” But I slide out, letting her loop my arm back over her shoulder. The sidewalk tilts a bit—and yeah, I probably shouldn’t be alone with a concussion.
Lucy is small under my arm. I’m more conscious of our different heights, more worried about crushing her. I want to go back to the Theo who hated her on sight…
But maybe he never existed.
She fiddles with the keys and finds the correct one surprisingly fast. Then we’re in the elevator. At my door. She unlocks that easily, too, and pushes it open.
“Come on.” She grunts and yanks me forward, into the apartment.
I look around with new eyes, trying to see how she might view it. Dark-brown leather couch in an L shape, a wooden coffee table, cream-and-orange rug. The kitchen off to the side, then the door to my bedroom and bathroom opposite it.
It’s clean, at least.
“Not what I was expecting,” Lux mutters. She leaves me by the door and circles the apartment, even separating the blinds with her fingers to peer outside. “It’s… warm.”
I shrug. My mother had a lot to do with the design. She enjoyed picking out furniture—I only required a couch big enough for my friends, if they chose to visit. The rest of it was just a blur of shopping, movers, and a lot of pictures texted to me.
A pang rattles through me. Of all the people I left behind in Rose Hill, Mom’s the only one I miss. The only good thing left.
I cross to the kitchen and grab two glasses, pouring water for myself and my new supervisor. She eyes me from her position by the window, even when I carry the glasses over and set them on the coffee table.
She doesn’t move when I sit, resting my head back, and turn on the television. An old NFL game I had recorded is paused on the screen, so I automatically hit play.
“I thought you preferred lacrosse,” she says suddenly.
I sigh. “I do.”
“Then why football?”
So many reasons. “It pays more.”
She ventures closer, and I find myself wishing she would stop being so fidgety and just sit. I close my eyes and try to block her out.
“Theo?”
“What?”
“You can’t sleep. Or… I think I’m supposed to wake you up. Or else you could forget everything.”
I sigh and look over at her. “Are you going to pester me all night, then?”
She grins. “We could make it interesting.”
I sit up, intrigued. “Go on.”
“A game of truth.”
I roll my eyes, wincing at the resounding ache in my head. “Are we in middle school? At least make it interesting.”
“Truth or dare, then,” she says.
She comes over and sits in the corner seat of the couch, crossing her legs. She pulls a blanket over her lap.
“Okay, fine.” I’m going to regret this, but… it would be a good distraction. “I’ll go first.”
Lux grimaces. “Fine.”
“Truth or dare?” I prompt.
She’s annoyed already. “Truth.”
I contemplate what I want to ask her. It’s hard to narrow it down—I realize I want to know everything. In this moment, I’d crawl inside her brain if she’d let me. I’ve never felt that curiosity before. I always thought I knew her, after all. But something tells me there’s a whole other side to her that’s foreign territory.
“What are you afraid of?” I ask. “Right this moment.”
She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear and reaches for the water. A sign of weakness already? It wasn’t even a hard question.
“Right this moment, I’m afraid of you getting amnesia and forgetting me.”
I pause.
She clears her throat. “Truth or dare?”
The thought of Lux getting into my head—that’s a no. “Dare.”
Her eyes widen, and her lips part. She’s surprised. Maybe she thought I should pick truth—it might be, in her eyes, the safe bet.
“What does the winner get?” she asks, rising on her knees.
I narrow my eyes. “You can lose at truth or dare?”
“If you refuse to do it, you can.” She smirks. “Afraid?”
There’s not much I’m afraid of. The very idea is ridiculous—and that must be her point. I twist in my seat to face her fully. We haven’t ever spent time like this. Calmly. Together. She’s only here because she might feel duty-bound.
“Name your price,” I say. “If I win, you show me your portfolio.”
Her mouth drops open. “What? No!”
“I want to see it.” I throw her smirk back in her face. “Unless you’re afraid…?”
That gets her. “I’m not.” Her jaw works as she tries to think of something. “If I win, I get your car.”
I scoff. “No.”
“A spare key to a future car, then.”
The last time I gave her a spare key, she put rotten eggs under my seat the following week. It took weeks for the smell to fully fade. And she still uses that damn thing.
“Deal,” I say.
“And a key to your apartment.”
I glare at her. “Don’t push it, Lux.”
She raises her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. So we’re in agreeance—if I win, I get a spare key to your car, and if you win, I’ll show you my portfolio.”
“No, I changed my mind.”
She sighs. “I’m tempted to tell you to fuck off.”
“But you won’t, because whatever this dare is, it’ll be worth it. Right?” I lean in. There’s still plenty of space between us, but I don’t miss the way she tenses. “I don’t just want to see your portfolio. I want to keep it.”
She scoffs. “I—I can’t do that. I need them.”
I shrug. “Not my problem.”
Her expression when she gives in is sweeter than I could’ve anticipated. A rush goes through my chest, my lungs expanding. It takes too long to realize I’m not miserable. I’m not carrying around a crushing weight. It might be her, or getting revenge on Sebastian, but…
I can breathe.
“Okay,” she whispers. “You can have it if you win.”
I nod.
“I dare you to pretend you love me,” she says, determination entering her expression. “For two minutes, pretend it’s something you’re capable of and kiss me like you mean it.”
My heart lurches.
“I can’t love you.” I shake my head and glance away. “If I do this, it might hurt worse. Later on, when you think…”
“I don’t—I won’t think anything.” She scoots back, pulling the blanket higher. It’s a shield against me, I think. “If you won’t do it, then the game is over.”
“Two minutes,” I confirm and retrieve my phone.
She watches with wide eyes.
I set a timer and place it on the coffee table. Before I start it, I close my eyes and push away all the black emotions that are constantly bombarding me. It’s like seven minutes in heaven, that stupid game we’d play at parties. Heaven always seemed a bit out of reach—especially since it was just kissing.
Heaven was cruising down a coastal road in a convertible, top down and wind in my face. Heaven was scoring the winning touchdown, throwing the perfect pass. Kissing seemed… less so. A clinical thing that was somehow sloppy. Saliva and lips and teeth. Nothing I needed—nothing I wanted.
<
br /> “Theo,” Lux says.
Somewhere along the way, something broke inside me.
I don’t want what guys my age should want.
Except… except when it comes to her.
With that in mind, I can give her what she wants. I can pretend that we’re both not broken things. That I could be capable of love.
“Theo,” she demands.
I snap my eyes open and take a deep breath. And then I start the timer.
She’s watching me with a mix of fear and excitement. I can practically taste it on my tongue. I hold out my hands, palms up, and she accepts them. I stand and pull her up with me. My heart is going berserk, pounding against my ribcage. Just a simple movement, a simple…
“Time’s ticking,” she whispers.
I cup her face gently, tipping her head back. Her breath catches.
We’ve been in this position before, me and her. But before, anger swirled between us. And now, its absence is almost startling. It’s absent because I willed it away, shoved it back behind mental barriers. Maybe not so much gone as… hidden.
“Are you going to say it?” she asks.
“No.” I steel myself and lean down. Our lips are centimeters apart, close enough that my stomach knots. Last time, she kissed me and all I felt was ice. I don’t want that again. I want…
I kiss her gently, like I might if I were in love. That’s the goal, after all. To pretend that I can do sweet and gentle and kind. To fumble my way through the next minute and thirty seconds.
She presses up on her toes, and our lips slide against each other. Heat rolls through me, and my illusion of ice shatters. God, that feeling of being able to breathe magnifies. Like I’ve never taken a true inhale before. My body wakes up.
My hands find her hips, then her ass. I lift her, our kiss never breaking. Her tongue sweeps at the seam of my mouth, and I open. Our tongues tangle. Her hands run into my hair.
My own hands are greedy, slipping up her back, cupping the back of her head. The wildness inside me takes control, angling her head. My erection tents my jeans.
She does this to me.
She tears her lips from mine and stares into my eyes, then nods to herself. I don’t know what she sees—all I want is to kiss her again. Every mean word, every action, seems to have dissolved between us.
Because she’s not just playing along with me.
Lux runs the show. Her hips roll against me, and I groan into her mouth. I cup her breast over her shirt and bra, pinching her nipple through the fabric. I’m met with her own moan. It vibrates in her chest.
We’re not at war.
I lower her to the couch, staying with her. We’re connected from our lips to our hips, but it isn’t enough. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, to have never wanted this before. To have never particularly cared about sex before Lux.
She pops the button of my jeans, then her hand is on my dick. I tear my lips away from hers and meet her eyes.
Her expression is open.
Vulnerable.
I think mine might be the same.
“Theo, we should—”
The timer goes off, silencing her.
We both freeze.
“Ignore it,” she whispers. “Turn it off and keep—”
Reality descends. The ice wasn’t the illusion—the warmth of us was. And the heat floods away, leaving me cold.
She reaches out and just barely reaches my phone, hitting the stop button.
“Stay with me.” She grabs my face with both hands—I didn’t even realize she had released my cock.
That’s how fucked up I am.
The timer goes off, and everything just halts.
“Don’t go,” she begs. “Theo. You weren’t pretending. That wasn’t pretending. That was actually trying—”
I cover her mouth with my palm.
Simultaneously, her grip tightens back on my dick. I’m still fucking hard for her, my pulse out of control. Not just my pulse—everything is out of my control.
And I don’t do that. I don’t lose it unless I want to hurt something.
She strokes me, and I shudder. Her legs are locked around my hips, keeping me in place. I’m not sure what would’ve happened if she withdrew, too. We would’ve taken a break and returned to her ridiculous game.
“That wasn’t pretending,” she says again, even quieter. Her voice is muffled against my palm. My fingers dig into her cheeks, my thumb a hair’s breadth from her eye. She doesn’t care about that. She doesn’t show an ounce of fear.
She might be right, but I can’t breathe.
My hand slips from her mouth to her throat, pressing her into the couch cushions. I could just squeeze and squeeze until there’s nothing left of Lux. I could obliterate her… and in the process, myself.
“I’m not afraid of you.” She stares at me, maybe daring me to do what the shadows in my mind want.
“You should be.”
She continues to stroke me, and the rush of pleasure up my spine is almost too much. I bow my head. My hips move on their own, jerking into her grip. For a split second, I picture her naked under me. The image is there one second, gone the next.
“I’m not,” she says.
She releases my hips, pulling her legs back, and withdraws altogether. I immediately sit back on my heels. The distance between us helps me think—until I realize her true intention.
“Lucy—”
She tuts. The sound seems automatic. But she doesn’t say anything else, just shifts her position and eyes my erection. I don’t know what to expect—but it isn’t her to lower herself down, taking me in her mouth.
I almost come on the spot.
“Fuck,” I say, my head falling back. I’ve got a kaleidoscope of colors behind my eyes. My head pounds, but I ignore that. All I can concentrate on is her mouth, her tongue. “Lucy—”
Her teeth touch my skin, and I gasp.
“Lux. Lux.”
She guides my hand to her head, and my fingers wind in her hair. I might explode when she draws out of me, then takes me back into her mouth. My hips thrust, hitting the back of her throat, and her hold on my wrist loosens. Like this is what she wants.
“This is it, little monster?” I ask. I haven’t called her that in years. “You want me to fuck your mouth.”
She hums.
I tug her head back, and she releases me with a slick pop.
“Say it,” I demand.
Her gaze flicks around my face, settling on my lips.
“Fuck my mouth, Theo,” she says breathlessly.
I nod. Some of that control comes back, releases the pressure bottling up in my chest. I stand, looming over her sitting form. I’ll regret this in a moment, when my knees threaten to buckle, but for now…
She tips her head back and meets my eyes.
“Open,” I order.
She does.
I slide the head of my dick across her lips, her cheeks. I don’t know what’s come over me, except this hunger to show her I’m not who she thinks I am. To destroy her belief in me.
You don’t do it for me. I told her that once, at a game. I had heard the rumors, knew everyone saw her as my slut. I did nothing to disengage those, even when she asked me about them a year later. Even if she wanted to confirm that I knew.
I did—and I egged them on.
Then, I threatened to shove my dick down her throat in public. She wasn’t put off by it. Nothing I did ever scared her away. It just made her fascination with me more intense.
I inch into her mouth carefully. She doesn’t move, doesn’t tear her eyes away from me. She’s hot and wet, and her lips close over me. She sucks, hard, and I bite the inside of my cheek. Her tongue swirls, working me, but she doesn’t fight when I pull out and thrust back in.
She just takes it, her expression never once shuttering. I hold the back of her head, hair wound around my fingers, and the need for release takes over. Her nails dig into the back of my thighs, holding me steady.
I
t doesn’t take long for stars to burst behind my eyes, and I come violently. I can relate more to a bottle rocket than a human for a long moment. Her throat works, swallowing around my dick, taking everything I have.
I look down at Lux, and she releases me. She falls back against the couch. She wipes away tears and drool, her gaze on the floor. She rises, still rubbing away the moisture between her thumb and index finger. Her face is flushed.
I touch under her chin, forcing her to look at me.
“Is this the part where you ask if I’m okay?” she murmurs.
“No.”
Her eyebrows draw together. “Then what?”
“You didn’t get off,” I say, because it’s the first thing that pops into my brain.
She takes a step back. “You can owe me one.”
I narrow my eyes.
Lux fiddles with her fingers. “What just happened…”
I turn away, already knowing what she’s going to say. That it wasn’t pretend. That it felt too real to be imaginary, or made up.
“I warned you.” My anger flares again. It’s fire under my skin, seeking an escape—and a target. “I told you it would be difficult. Too much for you. But you think you’re infallible, don’t you?”
She sniffs, and I pause.
Lux is extraordinarily good at hiding her emotions when I’m angry. She meets it with fury of her own. But this…
I spin around, and she’s wiping at her face. She gives me her back and collects her things, but her shoulders are hunched.
“What happened to staying?” I have to physically stop myself from grabbing her. I’d force her to sit and live through this… but that might be too mean, even for me.
“I can’t.” She glances over her shoulder at me. “And if you fall asleep and forget everything… I think that might be for the best.”
Her words find their target, and I cringe.
“I’m going home.”
I watch her scurry to the door. I grind my teeth until the slam of it closing has faded back into silence. On the street, an engine roars to life. I cross to the window and watch her speed away in my car.
“Fuck,” I say. I kick over my coffee table, the two water glasses and my phone crashing to the floor. The glasses break, and the phone skids away. It’s not enough. My scabbed over knuckles from the first time she kissed me, when it went horribly wrong, are ready to break open again.
