by Hazel Grace
“How about, one last time, we find out if that’s what you really want,” Emma divulges. “And you can make your decision then.”
Slowly, I shake my head, but it doesn’t deter her from hooking her finger around the lace of her panties and pulling them to the side. Her bare pussy uncovered for me, ready to use and release every bit of frustration I’ve been feeling.
Baseball has helped a bit, burying myself in my studies and side jobs have made the days go by quickly, but it doesn’t dispose of my visions or ideas.
“We don’t have much time,” Emma hedges, rubbing her clit with her index finger.
I curl my toes in my shoes. “Turn around.” She gives me a victory smile, turning around and placing her palms on the surface of the desk.
Bending over, her ass is on full display for me, pleading for me to peel her dress off and fuck her until I can’t form a thought. To give me some sort of block to stop myself from remembering how Sawyer doesn’t want anything to do with me while Principle Emma McMahon is bent over with her ass in the air, waiting for me to make her come.
I stand from my chair, my fingers itching to see what her red dress feels like, while the angel on my right shoulder tells me not to place shit on her body.
You’re underestimating yourself.
Emma juts out a hip, giving me another beautiful angle of her ass.
No one has to know, the devil on my left shoulder whispers. Sawyer isn’t breaking off a piece but she does for Gavin.
A bead of sweat trickles down the back of my neck.
I don’t want Emma anymore.
She lost her appeal before her little stunt of seduction, just like every other girl in this stupid ass school. Grown woman or not, she can be filed away as every other chick here except the redhead who plagues me.
I could walk outside this office, yell that I want to go on a date, and a flock of girls would surround me.
All while Sawyer rolled her eyes and walked in the other direction.
I brush my palm across the nape of my neck and roll my shoulders. There is no way in hell I’m going to do this when I just told Sawyer I wasn’t like everyone else.
I wasn’t Gavin.
I also wasn’t that stupid ass boyfriend she brought to Burger Joint that one day that couldn’t stick up for her when I was taunting her.
“Emma,” I assert firmly, my mouth set in a fine line. She peers over her shoulder, looking at me intently under her eyelashes. “Go fuck yourself.”
Her mouth drops the moment I pivot toward her office door, jerking it open and slamming it closed, causing eyes to land on me from the receptionist and a teacher.
Striding past them, I just want to get as far away from Emma as possible, outside so I can just breathe for a few minutes.
The bell rings, announcing that second period is over and filling the hallways with students. I still have my office pass so showing up late to third period won’t be an issue and, even if it was, I don’t really give a flying fuck.
Rounding a corner, I make my way toward the exit in the back of the school where there’s a space the smokers sneak off and go to. It’s behind the janitor’s garage near the football field, quiet, and the janitor doesn’t rat anyone out because he gets free cigs.
Patting my pocket, my blunt still resides there, and I pull it out, not giving a fuck as I make the final walk through the last hallway.
Then the color red flashes out of the corner of my peripheral. I know what it is before my head even shifts to my left, taking it into full view.
Sawyer.
Standing against a locker, talking to some douchebag guy about fuck knows what, her green eyes land on me. My pace slows on its own as we both look at each other. Her face softens in a smile, appearing happy to see me.
But still doesn’t want to give me a chance.
I continue past her, no amount of talking or teasing is going to get me anywhere. Been there, tried that. I’m running out of ideas that won’t pass up as crazy or obsessed, even though I’m not fully convinced that I’m not.
If she only knew the shit I just pulled for her, the temptation that I just batted away only because, even though she’d never know, I wanted her to recognize that I wasn’t the same.
And if she couldn’t acknowledge that, well...she could go fuck herself too.
Present day
Me: The appraiser is here, I’ll let you know if he mentions anything about the house that should pose any red flags. It’s old Mr. Reynolds still doing them, so I’ll see what I can squeeze out of him if anything.
I sent that text to Colson over an hour ago, and Mr. Reynolds is still here, slowly walking through Colson’s almost new home, regularly tsking and mumbling to himself while striding back and forth from each room.
He’s going to give me a complex.
I can’t imagine him coming up with any repairs, the house isn’t even five years old, but he’s surprised me before.
On purpose.
Him and Mr. Gene, another appraiser in town, have been competing against each other for business since before I was born. Probably even before I was a thought. Two months ago, Mr. Reynolds found out that Mr. Gene did an appraisal for one of my listings, and he’s all but snarled at me since walking through the door today.
Talking about a man who holds a damn grudge, I’m surrounded by them, apparently.
I don’t choose who works the listing, the lender does, and Mr. Reynolds is fully aware of that. I mean, geez, like I said, he’s been doing appraisals since before I was born.
“How much longer, Mr. Reynolds?” I call out from the kitchen, tapping my fingertips along the marble countertop. Facebook and Instagram will only keep me occupied for so long, and I didn’t bring my laptop to work on because I wasn’t expecting to be here for close to a century.
I should’ve known though, a sloth with a broken leg moves faster than Mr. Reynolds.
“Don’t rush me,” he bellows from the family room. “These things take time, young lady.”
I prop my cheek on my fist.
So, like, another hour.
Powering on the home screen to my cell, still nothing from Colson yet.
I yawn, inspecting my coral nail polish on my fingernails and try not to focus on the time, eleven o'clock, or the fact that I know Colson should be checking his phone because I told him Mr. Reynolds was going to be here today. He seemed super reactive and anxious to know how it came out the other day.
But, alas, nodda.
Ever since the Gavin, parent-teacher conference festivities, he’s been acting strange.
Nice.
Too nice.
Now, radio silence.
No running into him in town or any random phone calls to say naughty and risque things to make my body react and imagine them. Especially after he walked me to my car afterward, making sure I was alright once more, then taking off to his truck. Texting me the day after just to check in on the house and dropping subtle hints about what I was doing.
That was four days ago, and now, it’s like night and day. Maybe he’s...given up. Maybe my pushing and telling him off after all this time was starting to sink into his thick skull.
Right, because I want that.
I need that.
My life has to settle down and go back to what it used to be. Which was boring, but it was mine. At least I didn’t wake up with restlessness and dread that I could potentially run into him and go into a full-blown stuttering panic attack.
“Needs new windows,” Mr. Reyonds claims from the bathroom.
I roll my eyes. “They were put in last year, Mr. Reynolds.”
“Who did them?”
I shrug. “I have no idea, I’d have to pull the receipts.”
“If it’s that Hillside Windows, you can forget about it.” He walks out of the bathroom. “They’re a bunch of scam artists.” He walks into the kitchen sporting a red baseball cap with his business logo on it, Andy’s Appraisals, with a matching plaid long sleeve and bl
ue jeans. His monotonous frown is still glued to his face, and I’m getting tired of seeing it.
I raise my brows. “All set?”
“Yes, I’ll get that report sent over to you in 48 hours.” He fixes me with a scowl. “That’s two days faster than Mr. Gene.”
“Mr. Reynolds,” I grumble. “I already told you, I don’t choose the appraisers. The lenders do.”
“You could’ve requested it.” His eyes tighten as he adjusts his cap.
I sigh. “That’s not how it works.”
He holds his hand out horizontally and hovers it next to his chest. “I’ve known you since you were this high.”
My brows furrow. “I came to Oklahoma when I was seventeen.”
“You were short.” I’ve only grown like two inches.
“Okay, well, thanks for coming by so quickly,” I wrap up, just wanting him out so I can lock up and leave for the office. “I’ll see you out, and let me know if you need anything.”
He lets out a soft grunt. “I’ll be fine, and I can show myself out.” He doesn’t so much as give me a wave or a middle finger before striding out of the kitchen and out the front door, finally leaving me alone to lock up and take off.
I go through each room, making sure that Mr. Reynolds didn’t forget to relock the windows after he opened and closed each one about three times.
He forgot.
I try not to accuse him in my head of doing such a petty thing, but it ticks at me that he’s a revengeful old man who wants to act like a little jerk to make a point.
Running upstairs, I bolt and close all the windows, ensuring nothing is out of place before I make my way down the stairs. That’s when I hear the shuffle of footsteps on the hardwood floors.
I halt mid step down one of the stairs, straining to listen if it's just the house settling or if someone is in here with me.
Silence.
I shake my head, listening for a second more before rounding the bend toward the first floor. I jump, my heart crashing into my ribcage as my breath is taken away from me momentarily.
“Gavin,” I stammer, hovering my hand over my bruised heart. “What are you doing here?” He stands there, feet apart in an intimidating stance, grinning up at me while his eyes boldly graze up my body.
“Hey, Sawyer,” he greets. “Nice house.”
“Thanks,” I respond on a shaky breath. “How did you get in here?”
Colson will kill you if he finds out you stepped foot inside this place.
“Went to go look for you at your office,” he replies instead. “But your assistant told me you were here.”
I narrow my eyes. “She gave you the address?” I shouldn’t be upset with her, I wouldn’t have minded...if it were anyone else. I just never thought he’d come hunting me down.
“Took some convincing,” he states with a quick shrug. “But she finally caved.”
I have to go.
I straighten my back and cautiously continue down the stairs, careful not to brush against his body as I stride through the kitchen to check the laundry room window.
“What can I do for you?” I try to keep my tone cool and collected, but it's straining at best. It takes everything in me not to run the hell out through the front door like my hair is on fire.
“I was thinking about buying a house here.” I can’t help the violent shutter that escapes my body.
Why? And for what?
“Oh yeah? Why on Earth would you want to move back here? There isn’t any malls or—”
“Things with Natalie and I are getting serious.”
“Oh, sure, of course. You’re engaged so...yeah, that makes sense. Three bedrooms?”
“Not sure,” he states, following me. “Natalie and I had a fight.”
Ugh, God.
“I’m sorry to hear that. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“Not sure,” he alludes. “I told her about us.” I don’t think, I just swing around to face him.
“Why?”
He blows out a breath. “I don’t know, she mentioned the way I was looking at you and—”
“Gavin,” I snap then soften my tone after a brief second. “We have a past, but it wasn’t a good one. I wouldn’t brag about it to your fiancé or the fact that—”
“I was seventeen,” he counters, raking his hand through his dark brown hair. “I fucked up.”
He’s right, we were young, but he knew what he was doing. He planned it all out.
“Wait a few days and we’ll see how things work out with you and Natalie, okay? Don’t make any rash decisions just yet.”
Gavin looks around the house, ignoring me. “Is this Colson’s?”
“It will be.”
“It’s nice.” He sounds genuine, but I’m not as naive as I once was. I gave Gavin two tries in my life and he struck out both times.
“How about you leave your number with Bobbie, my assistant, and we’ll shoot you a text in a few days to check in.”
“I don’t want to be pawned off to an assistant,” Gavin retorts, shaking his head. “I want you to help me.”
Fuck the laundry room window, I’ll check it later.
“Alright, well...I’ll send you a text in a few days.” He takes a step toward me, which makes me jilt back.
“What’s wrong?” He frowns at me like I’m a nut job. If he only knew how badly he fucked my life up, he wouldn’t be looking at me like that.
He doesn’t know that I couldn’t date in college because it hurt to be touched by another guy. As though I was cheating on Colson the whole time even though he left without a word or before listening to anything I had to spill. It provoked Jake, which I’m grateful for, but I had a fuck buddy for God sakes. The only guy I’ve ever been intimate with because I wouldn’t give my time to anyone else so they could break my heart.
“Nothing,” I lie, snatching my purse and phone off the island. “I’ve got to get going.” I begin to round him, but he steps into my path.
“Sawyer,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry for what happened.”
I force a grin. “It’s fine, like you said, we were kids.”
He nods. “Yeah. Are you with him now?”
“Colson?”
“Yeah.”
“We’re...complicated.”
“If I remember correctly,” Gavin conveys. “You didn’t like complicated.” I feel his heavy exhale brush my forehead and his fingers come up to graze my forearm. It’s meant to be intimate, maybe soothing, but it’s disgusting.
I jerk my arm away and step back. “I have another appointment I need to get to.”
“Well, I can help with that. I had Bobbie clear your schedule.”
I gape at him. “What?”
“I figured we’d spend some time together.” This whole scenario is a bad movie scene where the guy forces himself on the girl, and I’m not about to play Gavin’s victim for the second time.
Pulling my phone out of my back pocket, I power on the screen and hit Colson’s number off my text message, turning the volume down so Gavin can’t hear the ringing.
“Why don’t I throw your number in my phone,” I offer, making it look like I pulled it out for that reason. My screen tells me that my call is dialing while adrenaline pumps through my veins and speeds up my heartbeat.
Gavin rattles off his digits, and I move my fingers around to make it look like I’m programming it in.
Then Colson picks up.
“Thanks,” I quickly say, loud enough for Colson to hear while my mouth isn’t close to the speaker. “Now, I think you better leave Colson’s house. No one is supposed to be in here, I could get in trouble.”
Totally bullshit lie.
“I don’t think he’ll mind,” Gavin voices. “We’re old friends.”
“Gavin.” I make sure to enunciate his name so that there is no mistaking Colson hearing it. “I think, just out of respect, that you better leave.”
He furrows his brows. “What’s up with the cold shoulder, Sawyer? I was g
ood to you for the most part.”
A mirthless laugh parts from my lips. “Sure, you were. You were good to other girls as well I heard.” I push by, knocking into his shoulder on purpose. I’m starting to get pissed, and he needs to get the fuck out.
Gavin’s hand lands on my shoulder, and he forces me to stop. “Sawyer, what the hell?”
I pull from him. “Don’t touch me.”
“Then don’t act like an entitled bitch,” he chides. “I saw the way you looked at me from under your eyelashes at the parent-teacher conference.”
“I didn’t look at you any specific way,” I leer. “I was just wishing you’d disappear from the room.”
A line appears between his forehead. “I know when a woman wants my dick. I was the best fuck you’ve probably had.” I scoff. Actually, Jake was the best fuck I’ve ever had, but I’m not going to announce that. He doesn’t need to know anything about me from the last decade.
“Sure you were, now let’s go, I’m trying to lock this place up and kick you the hell out.”
“Sounds like you need to let out some of that aggression that’s built up.”
“I don’t need shit from you nor do I want you again. You—nevermind.” I look down at my phone, my call is still connected with Colson. “C’mon let’s—” My chest is suddenly wrenched against Gavin’s and his face is in mine.
“Wouldn’t it be fun to fuck again but in Colson’s new house? Our scent would be embedded in these walls until he died.”
I push at his shoulders. “You’re sick.”
“C’mon, sweetheart, we had fun together. I used to make you laugh, listened to how all the girls in school wanted to beat your ass, and—”
“Gavin.” He rubs his body along mine, and I can feel his hard dick rub against my stomach. My skin crawls at just the closeness of him, uncomfortable and disgustingly taken aback by his actions.
“We don’t have to do it now,” he alleges. “We could wait, I could buy you dinner first. I’m not going to hit it and quit it like you’re some slut I just picked up at a bar.”
Wow...
