by Goode, Ella
Me: Want to tell me why your number is labeled as BF?
I tease. He must have done it when he took my phone to do the calendar exchange and put his number in.
BF: Best friends?
Me: If you say so.
I don’t know what possesses me but I change his name, coming to terms with what this is. It’s not like he’s going to know. Why can’t I date him? He is sweet and funny and I don't know why the other girls at school are talking about staying away from the football players. I don’t think I could stay away from Owen if I tried. I’m pretty sure I did try and failed.
Boyfriend: While we’re on the topic of doing things to not kill each other, let's not talk about you having sex with other men. Even if it’s just you messing with me. I mentally kicked about twenty dudes’ asses in my head.
Once again I laugh. I shouldn't enjoy his streak of jealousy but I do. Probably because I saw how some of the girls were looking at him today. I can't fault them. He does have a magical dimple.
Me: I think I can do that.
Boyfriend: Thanks Ace, get some R&R and eat something. I’ll see you tomorrow bright and early.
Me: Sweet dreams
I lie down on my bed. I’ve always been a homebody but right now I don't want to be at home. I want to be with Owen. I could lie and read a book while he plays with my hair and watches a football game. I groan when I realize I just said the same shit my parents do on Sundays. It’s weird how you don’t know you want something until it’s there at the tips of your fingers. Have I been lying to myself? No, I just don’t think I’ve met someone like Owen before now.
Boyfriend: That’s all they’ve been since I first saw you.
I drop my phone down, rolling over to my side. Yeah, no way Owen is in the friend zone. Now I am the one wanting to stake my claim.
Me: Night, Boyfriend.
I send it with a winky face before putting my phone onto the charger. I don’t let myself check his response. I’m enjoying the excitement of it. I’ll have to wait until morning. Unlike today, I am really looking forward to school tomorrow.
12
Owen
“What do you want to make next? A stuffed animal or a wallet?” Ace asks as she ties another knot in the fleece blankets we are making for the children’s center of her dad’s hospital.
“Neither. They both sound complicated as fuck.” It’s been three weeks of sewing classes and while everyone else in the class is rocking it, I’m still struggling with threading the needle. I don’t understand why the eye has to be so fucking small. What is the point of that? The machine needles aren’t that small and, as a bonus, the machine needles have a threader built in. “Whatever we can make on the sewing machine. No more handstitching.”
“They all require handstitching.”
Ace’s fingers are like a miracle. I actually enjoy watching her sew. She practices something called embroidery at home where she creates pictures and shit with thread. It’s pretty damn cool. My hands are awesome at catching things, but not so deft at creating things. Ace, on the other hand, is a magician. She says she practices stitching for surgery. Being fast can be important if people are bleeding or leaking or whatever it is she has to stop by sewing flesh and ligaments and tissue together. Her fingers fly over the material, needle flashing, thread whipping in and out of sight. It’s soothing, like watching Youtube videos where they whisper. That kind of soothing. I could lie on the sofa for hours and just watch her work.
Unfortunately, she’s not letting me do that. Under the watchful eye of her mother, who is baking brownies in the kitchen just one center island away from us, Ace and I are assembling fleece blankets made by cutting tabs into the sides of the fabric and then tying those tabs together.
“You know, I could use one of these. They’re soft as hell.” I rub the fleece against my face and imagine tangling up under one of these babies with a naked Ace.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she says, nudging me under the table with her foot and throwing a glance over my shoulder to her mom.
“Like what?” I ask, all innocent.
Ace kicks me again, but this time I catch her foot and slip my finger along the hollow behind her ankle bone. She scrapes her teeth along her lower lip and I nearly bust a nut in my jeans. I set her foot down. “You win,” I whisper. I’ve got no defense against her. Just her breathing is sexy but whenever she does something with her lips, I’m toast. Done for. Just put me in the coffin and throw me in the pre-dug hole.
I’m trying to take it slow. I want it to be right for her, not some half-assed rush job in her car or mine after a football game. I want a mattress, some fucking scented candles, music, and whatever else shit we need to make it memorable. I probably don’t even need a mattress—just a door and a flat surface, but during the football season, it’s tough to get that private time. I’ve got practice and when I’m not practicing, I’m studying because despite its name, FU High is hard as fuck. I may have taken one too many honors courses, but I can’t regret it because if I hadn’t taken them, I would probably have zero classes with my girl. Those upper level courses are all she’s taking because she’s amazing and brilliant. But she’s also busy studying, not just for the classes she’s taking but for college entrance exams and stuff.
We hang out all the time together, but her mom is around a lot. We could ditch her and study at the library or go to a party on the weekends, but there really isn’t any horizontal place in the library. If it wasn’t our first time, maybe I could push her up against the metal bookcases, flip up her skirt and take her quick and hard while she bit into her hand to keep from making a noise louder than a whisper. If we’d been sleeping together for a while, the idea of sneaking to the back of someone’s house, kneeling in the damp grass, and shoving my tongue between her legs while she leans against the siding would be a plan I’d be in favor of. But we haven’t been sleeping together for a while. Not even once.
I want to, desperately, but she doesn’t seem ready. If she was, she wouldn’t keep inviting me over to her house and plopping down five feet from her mom. It’s not to say that Mrs. Alistair isn’t cool. She is. She’s a bomb-ass cook, smiles nicely to me every time I show up on her doorstep, and doesn’t complain about all the food I tend to eat while I’m here.
But she’s always lurking around and the most that I’ve been able to do with her watching Ace and me like a hawk is to rub Ace’s ankles under the table. I have learned she’s sensitive there which is good intel, but I could’ve learned that in her bedroom, with her door closed and her clothes off.
As I make quick work of my side of the blanket, it occurs to me that I’ve been treating this situation a little like a football game. Since I’m a wide receiver, I’ve got to wait for the ball to be thrown to me. I can’t take the ball from the center and make my own plays. Having a decent quarterback can mean the difference between a wide receiver going to a top tier school or not getting a scholarship at all.
But life isn’t a football game. I stand up. “You done?”
Ace blinks in surprise. “Um, almost, why?”
“Because we’re going out for some food.”
“But I have to study.”
“Bring your books.” I turn to Mrs. Alistair. “I’m taking Ace to my house after we pick up some food. We’ll be home late.”
Her eyes widen. Ace makes a small sound behind me. Protest? Surprise? I’m not sure. Mrs. Alistair inspects me for a long, uncomfortable moment, but, in the end, she nods. “I hope you’ll use a condom.”
“Mom! We’re not having sex.”
Mrs. Alistair merely shrugs. “I’m just saying, use protection.”
I grab Ace’s hand. “We won’t be having sex until Ace is ready.” But there’s a lot of shit we can do that doesn’t involve my dick in her sweet pussy. Lots.
13
Alice
My knee bounces, my heart still racing from what my mom said. I can’t believe she blurted that out. Okay, that’s a lie; it�
�s not completely shocking. Owen’s hand comes down on my knee.
“Ace?”
I fidget in my seat. I glance over at him. His gaze meets mine for a moment before it goes back to the road.
“I’m not hungry.” I lick my lips. “Not for food.”
“Trust me, I’m going to be eating you.” My legs clench together. The small throb that hit the second we got into his car is growing more intense. The anticipation of what’s to come has my body wound so tight. His words have me both excited and nervous at the same time. Knowing that he’s a virgin also stops the thoughts of self-doubt from creeping in. We are both in the same boat as far as experience, which makes it an even playing field between us. I know that whatever we decide to do tonight will be good for the both of us regardless of how far we take it. There is no doubt in my mind that Owen will make everything special for me. I glance back over at him and take in his profile. Thoughts of his hands touching me everywhere while his mouth consumes me has me growing more impatient by the second.
“Drive faster.”
“Fast as I can, Ace.”
My eyes go to the speedometer and see he’s doing exactly the speed limit. I overheard my dad talking to Owen about driving with care when I was in the car. I thought it was sweet until now. He is really doing what my dad told him and I am going to come out of my skin. It did warm my heart that he respected my dad enough to do as he asked. It said a lot about Owen. I found it endearing that although my dad wouldn’t know if he sped or not, Owen still chose to follow the simple request.
These past few weeks have been intense. I’ve been riding the edge of how far I should take things with Owen. I knew we’d be going all the way but I want to savor all of the moments until then. Each touch lingers a little longer while going a little further. It’s been a tease. It was the sweetest torture. I keep waiting for Owen to take the next step but he never pushes. His control is finally breaking.
My breathing is becoming unsteady with every mile that passes. Our destination is not coming soon enough. Each time I look over at Owen it gets worse. I peer out my window to keep from getting worked up any further. Trying to distract my mind from its dirty thoughts, I watch the land pass by for a while. My eyes drift closed in hopes that it will pass the time. I’m jostled from my inner thoughts when I feel the car being pulled over on the side of the road.
“Fuck, I need a small taste, Ace. I’m not going to make it home without it.” His hand unbuckles my seatbelt and he pulls me toward him. His mouth comes down on mine. Our kiss is desperate, both of us trying to consume the other. I moan into his mouth, trying to get as close to him as possible. I break the kiss and climb over the console so that I’m seated on his lap.
“Ace.” My name comes out pained. His hands come up, locking around my face as he pulls me back to his. Our mouths make love. It’s raw and sweet mixed with so much need I think I’m going to come undone. I want to get back in my seat so we can get back to his place but I also don’t want to pull apart. I whimper into his mouth, not sure what to do.
“I got you,” he tells me. His hands drop from my face, one going to my hip as his other slips into my pants. His hand is on my hip, taking a firm hold of me. I know I am pressed into his hard-on. I didn’t realize that I was rocking my hips back and forth trying to find my release on it. Desperate for some relief, I am unashamed in my movements. All of my inhibitions have been tossed out of this car window.
His fingers slide through the lips of my sex. The only sound in the car is our heavy breathing. Owen’s fingers find my clit and he sucks in a deep breath. I know I’m not just wet. I’m soaked through my panties. I am used to it, being around Owen, but this is more than ever. I would be shy about it but Owen closes his eyes and I know he’s trying to get it together. His hardness under me gives a jerk. Yeah, all of him is enjoying how wet I’ve grown. I don’t know if it’s normal to get this wet but I don’t care.
“Owen.” That’s the only word I can manage to get out. My mind and body are only focused on one thing. I need him to give it to me. Those dark brown eyes spring open as his fingers move faster over my clit, giving my body exactly what it needs.
”Give it to me, Ace. Let that sweet pussy come on my hand.”
With those words, my body begins to tremble for him. The pleasure rolling through me from head to toe is overtaking everything. My mind goes blank as I let the feeling take me. There are no words to describe it. I’m lost in the sensation. I’m lost in him. As he holds me close to him, his fingers move to get every last bit of pleasure out of the orgasm.
I lay with my head buried in his chest, my nose brushing back and forth, breathing him in. I often find myself doing that. Trying to steal another breath of him. He relaxes not only me but my mind.
His hand on my hip slides up my back, rubbing me back and forth. His cock jerks below me, reminding me he hasn’t gotten his turn.
“Owen,” I breathe against his neck. I want to do more.
“Gotta get you back in your seat.” I shake my head no in the nook of his neck. I don’t want to go anywhere. His arms wrap around me, holding me tight. His cock jerks against me again. I smile into his neck before I place a kiss there. Then another.
“Ace,” he warns.
“I know.” I sigh while leaning back.
“Give me a kiss and get in your seat.” It’s a half-hearted order. He doesn’t want me to go anywhere, but I follow it.
“Can you try and drive a little faster?” I ask as I slip back into my seat, pulling my seatbelt on. I watch as he adjusts himself. He brings his fingers up to his nose, breathing my scent in before he slips them into his mouth. My stomach flutters with excitement. I want that mouth on me. Everywhere. But I want to taste him too. We haven’t ventured that far.
“Sorry, Ace, that I can’t do. Precious cargo.”
I narrow my eyes on him. He has got to be hurting more than I am. At least I got some release.
My mom's words float into my head. I knew your dad was the one when he always put us first. That’s when you know you have a good man. He thinks of you before himself.
“Okay,” I agree. I lean back in my seat, knowing it will only be a few more minutes until we both get what we want. More than anything I know I am giving it to the right man.
14
Owen
The house is quiet when I lead Ace inside. Mom is working her night shift and the only light left on is the one over the stove. I flip on the main lights and toss my keys onto the counter.
“You hungry?” I ask. Ace giggles. “I mean for food,” I clarify.
“Sure. What do you have?” She slides onto one of the two bar stools tucked under the small center island. It occurs to me how different our homes are. Her kitchen is full of marble and steel. The center island where her mom prepares dinners is longer than my entire hallway. I think I could fit my entire house in the first floor of Ace’s home. She’s a rich kid—a really rich kid—and I don’t think it hit me until this moment as she rests her elbows on the top of my chipped laminate countertop.
“I’m gonna go pro, you know,” I blurt out, feeling suddenly defensive. “I’m gonna sign a big contract and there will be endorsement money so this isn’t all you’re going to have if you stick with me.”
Ace blinks, not quite sure what to make of my outburst. I scrub a hand through my hair and turn to hide my flustered face in the fridge. Usually, I don’t lack for confidence. It never mattered before what other people had and I didn’t. I didn’t pay attention to what other chicks thought of me before because I never wanted one before. But I want Ace. More importantly, I need her. A whole future without her isn’t something I want to contemplate, but right now it doesn’t look like I can provide for her like she’s used to being provided for. I hope she can wait.
“What are you talking about?” she asks.
I slam the door shut and turn to face Ace. “Don’t pay any attention to me. I’m being a dumbass. We’ve got sandwich meat. I make a mean mac and c
heese. I’m pretty sure we have a bottle of Ragu around here.”
“No, Owen, I’m serious. What did you mean that you plan to go pro? Or that you’ll have endorsements? You think I’m with you because I think you’re going to be rich?”
I really have to start watching my dumb mouth, but as Ace sits there with a wounded expression on her face, I know I have to come clean. Even if it makes me look dumb and insecure and shallow.
“I was being a dumbshit,” I tell her, leaning back against the counter. “Most of the time it doesn’t occur to me that you’re a rich girl and I’m...well, not one. Rich, that is. Not a girl. Obviously.” My words are getting tangled up. Ace’s frown hasn’t gone away. I shake my head and search for some clarity. “All I’m saying is that I want the best for you and someday I’ll be able to give it to you. That’s it.”
She’s still got her lips pressed together in a flat, unhappy way. “I don’t care about money. If I did, there would be plenty of other guys I could be with, Owen. I’m with you because I know you’re always looking out for me. You don’t let other girls drool over you. You’re respectful around my mom. You don’t play games. That’s all I want.”
There’s a bite in her tone I haven’t heard before, but I deserve it. I cross over to the island and bracket my hands around hers, bringing her closed fists up to my mouth. “I’m a dumbshit. I already said it. Forgive me?”
She shifts a little in her chair before nodding. “Nothing to forgive.”
“Good. Now that we have that out of the way, your list of the things you want did not include me peeling off your pants and sticking my tongue between your legs so is that off the list or not?”
She pulls her hands out from my clasp and tugs on my bangs. “Maybe I want your world-class mac and cheese first.”
