Side Effects

by Lisa Suzanne

  He finished on a sexy moan before I did. I rubbed my clit vigorously, hoping to find my release that was building, but to no avail. As soon as he came, he lifted me off of him and turned on his side. I heard his steady breathing moments later, indicating that he had fallen asleep.

  Fucking douchecanoe didn’t even finish me off.

  My pussy was wet and aching, and he left me hanging.

  I headed out to my couch, where I took care of myself for the second time that night.

  And for the second time that night, blue eyes haunted my fantasies as I took myself over the brink of pleasure.

  CHAPTER 7

  First hour Monday morning found me stiff and crabby. I’d fallen asleep on the couch, and when I woke up at 4:00, I headed back to my bedroom to find a snoring Tyler sprawled across my bed.

  I shimmied under the covers, managing to find a corner of the bed that would belong solely to me while he took up the majority of the available space.

  I was starting to think our arrangement of no sleepovers wasn’t really so overrated as I laid in bed trying to fall back asleep in time to his snoring.

  He was gorgeous. He was everything on the outside that I wanted. But between that chainsaw he called sleeping and the way he treated me, he was not even close to what I needed.

  So I found myself in a very crabby mood as I contemplated what exactly I did need. Was it Reed? Was it those blue eyes that stayed with me at all times? Was it worth a shot with him?

  I thought back to Jared again. The image of my ex-boyfriend hovering over my ex-friend snapped me back to reality. No, it wasn’t worth it. I liked the way things were with Ty. I liked the detachment. I liked knowing exactly what to expect from him. Usually he was much better about tending to my needs as well, but he was drunk the night before.

  And as I made that excuse in my head, I knew that everything I thought I believed was totally wrong.

  Even worse was when, in the middle of my third hour class, a bouquet of hot pink roses arrived in my classroom, disrupting my train of thought in the middle of a lecture on the Scottsboro Trials.

  I assumed Ty sent them, apologizing for passing out before he’d had a chance to get me off. I deserved every penny he spent on those roses.

  I grabbed the card, knowing it would say something dirty before I even opened it.

  Quinn,

  Here’s to Cornhole, tequila shots, literally running into each other, and Chicken Caesar Salad. Give me another chance to take you out again.

  -Reed

  I stood in stunned silence while thirty freshmen stared at me. I took a moment to study the penmanship. It was neat. Straight. Pulled together. Something about it screamed masculinity while still maintaining a semblance of sensitivity.

  It perfectly reflected the man to whom it belonged.

  Everything about it told me that he was totally wrong for me, yet something pulled me toward it.

  “Who is it from?” Hannah asked from the front row.

  “A friend,” I said, brushing off her question.

  “Roses from a friend?” another girl questioned from the back of the room, which was followed by a chorus of, “Oooooh! Ms. Carpenter has a boyfriend!”

  I rolled my eyes, set the flowers and the card down on my desk, and finished my lecture.

  I was glad that I had delivered the same lecture at least ten times before, because I was suddenly totally distracted by the very visual reminder of Reed.

  When class ended and I inspected my flowers more closely, I saw a single blue rose in the middle of twelve pink ones.

  Blue, to remind me of his eyes. He’d done it on purpose; of that I was certain.

  The man was a giant pain in my ass, but he was worming his way into my life and taking over my thoughts at an alarming rate.

  I debated what to do. Half of me was dying to go out with him again. Maybe this time he would kiss me, and the mere thought of his lips on mine sent a shudder down my spine.

  The other half of me wanted to forget he even existed. My life had been fine before Reed had stepped into it just days earlier, and now I felt like everything was completely turned upside down.

  I walked next door to Veronica’s classroom to chat about it during our shared prep hour, but she wasn’t in there. So I headed back to my room and stared at my flowers for a full hour before the bell rang and my next class came in.

  I was grading essays, watching Days of our Lives, and eating a microwaved meal later that evening when a text came through on my phone from an unfamiliar number.

  Thinking about you… but I don’t think you’ve left my mind since I met you on Friday. Did the flowers work?

  I smiled. Widely. Okay, if I’m being honest, it was a grin. A giddy little grin.

  I pondered that for a moment. Had the flowers worked? Even as I rode Tyler the night before, I pictured Reed’s eyes in my head. So something told me that it wasn’t just the flowers. I actually wanted to go out with him again.

  But instead of admitting that, I wrote back: Could you be more obvious with the blue one?

  I just wanted to make sure the message was loud and clear.

  What message was that, Preppy?

  That you were on my mind, so I wanted to be on yours.

  A strange sensation ran through my chest at his text. Was that a flutter? It was unfamiliar and awkward, but I liked it. I wanted to feel more of it.

  I glanced over at the flowers. Of course I’d brought them home with me.

  I wanted to be honest with him. I wanted to tell him that he had been on my mind, too, ever since I had met him. But I was more of a playing games kind of girl.

  I actually thought they were from someone else. It wasn’t a lie.

  It was five full minutes before he answered, and of course I stared at my phone the entire time, willing it to chime with a new text from him.

  Well they were from me. Now answer my question.

  What question? I was playing dumb, but part of me just wanted him to ask again.

  Go out with me again.

  That’s not a question.

  Well it’s no longer a request, either. Friday night. Dinner at your place. 7:00 PM. I’ll bring something to eat. I’d invite you to my place, but I’m staying with your brother.

  I shuddered at the thought of Reed the Prep in my space. Shuddered. Shivered. Same thing.

  And he had a point. When we inevitably had sex, I definitely didn’t want my brother in the next room.

  Do I have a choice?

  No. Looking forward to Friday.

  His take charge attitude was insanely hot.

  Okay, so maybe… just maybe… I was starting to develop a little crush on Preppy.

  And maybe I was starting to realize that perhaps he was more my type than I’d initially given him credit for.

  CHAPTER 8

  The next day, my brother texted me just before lunch.

  Four tix to tonight’s D-Backs game. You in?

  I loved going to professional baseball games. I loved drinking beer, eating hot dogs and peanuts, and cheering for my home team.

  My brother’s company owned season tickets that they often gave away to clients, but equally as often, they gave the tickets to employees. Anytime Grant ended up with the four-pack of tickets, he invited me to the game, usually along with my parents.

  I’m in, but I need a ride so I can drink.

  You got it. Game time is 6:05. I’ll be there around 4:30.

  Sometimes my brother wasn’t so bad.

  That thought was immediately banished when I got into the backseat of my traitorous brother’s car.

  When I got home from work, I changed quickly into a D-Backs t-shirt, jeans, sneakers, and a baseball cap. I pulled my ponytail through the back of my hat and I didn’t bother with my make-up because I assumed I’d just be hanging at a ballgame with my family.

  So imagine my shock when I opened the passenger door to the backseat and was greeted by someone other than my parents.

 
“Hi, Quinn,” Preppy Porter grinned at me from the driver’s side of the backseat. He had a baseball cap on, a D-Backs one, and I couldn’t help but notice that his cap faced firmly forward.

  A tingly thing happened in my chest, but I ignored it, assuming it was just indigestion from something I ate.

  Some gorgeous brunette woman sat in the front seat.

  Sometimes I really hated Grant.

  Now I was stuck on a double date with my brother, some gorgeous woman who clearly had taken the time to bother with her hair and make-up, and this annoying man who seemed to turn up everywhere I went.

  I couldn’t get that goodbye moment after our dinner date out of my mind. I had wanted him to kiss me. I had wanted him to blow my mind. But he didn’t. He was gentlemanly (if a little straitlaced) instead, leaving me hanging and making me feel stupid for wanting him.

  And I also couldn’t get the flowers he’d sent me the day before out of my head.

  “Hey, Preppy,” I said on an irritated sigh.

  He tugged on my ponytail, and I swatted his hand.

  “Hi, Grant.” I leaned forward toward the center console and looked at Grant’s date. She wore a low cut, sparkly tank, designer jeans, and high heels. “I’m Quinn,” I introduced myself.

  “McKinsey,” she replied, her voice breathless and her breasts tumbling out of her top.

  Yep, she was definitely my brother’s type.

  As I moved to lean back, my breast brushed against Reed’s knee in the backseat of Grant’s FJ Cruiser.

  I forced a deep breath into my lungs, absolutely prohibiting myself from feeling embarrassed about that. I pretended like it hadn’t happened.

  But, of course, Reed didn’t follow my lead. “Feel free to do that again,” he murmured just loud enough for me to hear.

  I glared at him and huffed as I stared out the window, already knowing this night was going to be interminable. I was not mentally prepared for the game of witty banter that would surely ensue. I’d had a long day at work and I just wanted to go enjoy some baseball with my family. Instead, I was forced on a double date with my brother and McSlut in the front seat and Repulsive Reed in back with me.

  Grant and McKinsey chatted softly in the front, too quietly for me to join in on their private conversation. So my options were either to continue staring out the window in silence or make conversation with Reed.

  “How was your day?” he asked softly.

  I glanced over at him, and he looked genuinely interested.

  “Fine.”

  Was it rude that I didn’t ask him back?

  “Mine was good, too. I inspected a few new builds today. That’s my favorite part of this job.”

  “I didn’t ask.”

  He sighed, and we sat in silence for a few seconds.

  “You know, Quinn, it’s like one step forward and two steps back with us.”

  “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

  “I’m talking about you. Our date Sunday. The flowers and texts yesterday. And then today, we’re back to square one with you hating me again for no apparent reason.”

  “I don’t hate you,” I said quietly. This was a private conversation and I didn’t want Grant and McSlut to overhear and mistake it for more than it was.

  “Well that’s a relief,” he muttered.

  “Hate and annoyance are very different emotions,” I blurted.

  “So I annoy you?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?”

  “Why do I annoy you?”

  Because your blue eyes haunt my dreams. Because I can’t stop thinking about you. Because you wear preppy clothes and you’re sweet and polite and I’m not used to men like you. Because you’re unlike everything that I have ever gone for in my life, yet I’m dying to know what you look like naked.

  But, obviously, I didn’t say any of that. I didn’t want him to get a big head. “I don’t know why you do it, but I’d appreciate it if you just stopped.”

  He chuckled. “You got it,” he said, and then it was his turn to face the window, which he did for the remainder of the ride.

  The entire time I kept trying to think of something – anything – to say to him to get him to talk to me again. Instead of actually coming up with something, we both sat in silence, staring out our respective windows while we did our best to ignore both each other and the obvious attraction between us.

  Grant paid for parking in the parking deck closest to the stadium, so we didn’t have far to walk.

  Thank God. I wouldn’t want McSlut to have to walk too far in her heels.

  Grant and his date held hands and walked a few paces in front of us. We walked awkwardly, unsure if we should hold hands because, let’s face it, we were on a date, or if we should continue to ignore each other.

  And then he grabbed for my hand and his grip was warm and strong.

  That indigestion hit me again, this time fluttering from my chest down into my belly, warming me and sending an intense pressure in between my thighs.

  I laced my fingers through his, and his thumb traced rhythmically against mine. It was comforting and sexy at the same time, somehow causing this intense lust to rocket through me.

  If holding hands with this guy did this much damage to me, I couldn’t imagine what his hands elsewhere on my body could do to me.

  It could seriously destroy me.

  Grant produced the four tickets for entrance and then we walked around the stadium until we found our seats. I ended up squished between my brother and my surprise date.

  The four of us made small talk for a few minutes. My brother had played baseball in college, and he personally knew a handful of the players. He told us who he knew and what they were like, and Reed chimed in with a few players from different teams that he knew personally because of his own stint playing college ball.

  “Reed’s really good with balls,” Grant said, chuckling.

  I ignored my perverted brother, instead focusing on Reed.

  “What position did you play in college?” I asked.

  “Shortstop.”

  So basically the hottest position. The place where the very best players got to play.

  I grunted in reply and turned toward Grant, prepared to ignore Reed for the rest of the evening in favor of conversation with my brother, but he had turned in his seat to give his full attention to McSlut. So I was stuck either sitting in silence or being nice to Preppy.

  “I’m going to grab a beer. Want anything?” Reed asked.

  “I’ll take a Miller Lite,” I replied, settling back into my seat. I glanced over at Grant to ask if he wanted anything only to see him leaning in and nuzzling McSlut’s neck.

  Oh God.

  I think I threw up a little at the sight.

  “I’ll just come with you,” I said to Reed, inviting myself along. Even Reed’s company had to be better than sitting next to my man-whore of a brother while he made a move on the girl he brought along to the game.

  I followed him up the stairs, noting that he had strayed from his typical khaki pants and polo shirt in favor of a t-shirt and jeans. I couldn’t help but notice his ass right in front of me. It was tight and cute. A brief image of him naked flashed through my mind.

  The imaged managed to distract me enough that I tripped over my own two feet, and I fell forward so that my chin actually slammed into one of the very ass cheeks that I had just been imagining naked.

  What the fuck was he doing to me?

  I was not a klutz. I was not unsteady on my feet. I was not the girl who tripped into a guy’s backside.

  I was sober, for fuck’s sake. How the hell had that just happened?

  I grabbed the handrail so I didn’t actually fall down on the stairs, and he stopped and turned around. My face met with his crotch when he turned.

  Oh. My. God.

  I was close enough to see an outline, and the size alone was impressive.

  I supposed he could be a stuffer, but I didn’t peg him as someone who would sh
ove a sock down his pants to impress the ladies.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  I knew my face was flushed from the images flashing through my brain, but there was no way in hell I was about to admit any of that to him.

  “Yeah,” I said, trying to play it off. “My foot got caught on something.”

  “Okay,” he said, and I could tell by his tone that he didn’t believe me. In fact, his tone made it sound like he thought I had done it on purpose.

  We reached the top of the stairs, and he turned to me. “You sure you’re okay? Your face is really red.”

  That’s because I’m fucking embarrassed that I just fell into your ass! I wanted to scream. But I didn’t.

  “I’m fine.”

  He still didn’t believe that I hadn’t touched his ass on purpose, but bringing it up and denying it would only make me look guiltier, so I just kept my mouth shut.

  He grabbed my hand again as we headed toward the beer vendor, and I pulled it back. He stopped and turned to stare at me. The concourse was packed with fans of both teams, and he had fucking stopped in the middle of it as people passed us by, huffing at the two idiots standing there blocking traffic.

  His eyes flicked down to my hand, a clear signal that he wanted to hold it. It was a possessive gesture, and something about it reignited that tingly thing in my chest that I’d been assuming was just a severe case of indigestion.

  “What?” I challenged.

  He rolled his eyes, grabbed my hand again, and pulled me along toward the beer vendor. This time, though, I didn’t let go. Mostly because I couldn’t. He had my hand trapped against his in a tight vice grip.

  We got in line for our beer, and Reed ordered four. We each carried two, so I didn’t have to hold his hand on the way back.

  And the weird thing was that I really wanted to.

  We sat and passed the beer down to Grant and McKinsey, and then the game started.

  The first two innings were relatively uneventful in the game, but the thing happening between Reed and me was super eventful.

  He draped his arm around my shoulders, and I automatically leaned into him. It was one of those intimate gestures that I just took for granted until I realized that it had happened. His fingertips grazed my shoulder, and the simple touch warmed me everywhere.