by Lisa Swallow
The tenderness in Evan’s words shares an unmistakable hunger in his eyes. I take hold of his face, drag him towards me, and our lips collide. I love this guy so much, and he does things to me I never dreamed anyone could. Evan’s hand slips between my thighs, swirling his thumb over my clit, and my breathing speeds to match his as his fingers stroke the wet heat of me. I fight down the groan but the sound escapes, and in response, Evan pulls his face from mine and gives me a look and a smile I recognize.
He slides his head down, his rough face scratching my sensitive skin as he kisses and nips his way along my stomach. Kneeling on the floor, he nudges my legs apart, and before I can protest, his mouth is on me. As his tongue glides over my sex, sensation jolts through every nerve in my body as he leisurely explores me with his tongue. I don’t want the pressure building inside me to explode so soon, but a larger part of me doesn’t want him to stop. I lie back as the pressure mounts in my tingling body, shaking towards the edge as his fingers slide into me and match the movement of his tongue.
With more self-control than I realize I have, I move myself away from his mouth. “Please be inside me, Evan.”
He climbs back towards me, one eyebrow raised. I reach an arm towards the drawer by the side of my bed. As I open it, he reaches inside. When he finds a condom, I take it from him. I rip open the foil and roll the condom over the hard length of him, pushing the desire away to put my mouth around him instead.
Our lips collide again, hungry and hot, and Evan hesitates before he enters me with a force that makes me gasp. Gripping my hips as he thrusts, I match the movement with my own. Holding his head, our gazes lock, and words aren’t needed to share our thoughts. Falling into waves of bliss, I close my eyes and drown in the intensity of sex with Evan.
Lying in his arms afterwards, the word he used resonates around my mind. The word Evan hates. Need.
Chapter Five
NESS
The last of the autumn leaves gather at my feet as the northern English winter wind blows across campus. I pull my coat tighter and wish I’d brought my gloves. Evan’s working today and a couple of my classes are cancelled, so I decide to surprise him with lunch.
Some of my happiest summer memories were of our days travelling the Greek islands. By that point, we’d become comfortable in our emerging relationship. We’d spent a few weeks gradually crossing from France to Italy, and in that time, we learned so much about each other. The bond between us felt natural and unbreakable. The rugged beauty of the islands and the hot summer matched the intensity of new emotions I had for Evan, and on dark days in Leeds, I wish we were back there.
Now the English autumn descends into winter, and I decide we need a reminder of the idyll of summer. Every day in Greece we’d sit on the beach and eat salad, something I can replicate here in the dull English city. A quick trip around the supermarket for ingredients, I proudly throw together a Greek salad, the smell of the feta pulling me straight back to the summer world of picnics and sunshine. With the full container in my messenger bag, I wait outside the gym for Evan.
When Evan appears, he’s jacketless despite the cool day. I shiver; just looking at him in his thin T-shirt makes me cold. And warm inside. I can’t help but feel a little smug when I take in the sight of my hot-as-hell boyfriend. He has the whole damp-chested, mussed hair, post-workout thing going on, fuelling the less than clean thoughts I have about him as I watch. Watching him from a distance as if I’m a random onlooker turns me on? I must have some kind of weird stalker gene.
Evan doesn’t notice me at first; he’s on the phone and his eyebrows are pulled together in consternation. I recognize his hunched stance as frustration, and suspect he’s talking to his sister. Evan rests against the pillar outside as he continues his conversation, oblivious to those around.
A slender girl with long blonde hair passes me with her equally blonde friend. I watch them and wonder if they share the same box of hair dye to go with their identical straightened hair and designer gym gear.
“Book me in with him!” one of them says and giggles.
I jump to alert. There’s only one ‘him’ in the vicinity.
“Nope, all mine. Twice a week.” The giggling intensifies, and an unfamiliar feeling creeps across my scalp when it’s apparent they’re talking about Evan. Jealousy.
“He can get me hot and sweaty anytime!”
I gag at their immature sizing up of my boyfriend. Then I find myself doing something I didn’t intend. I stalk across the path towards him and dump my bag on the floor.
Evan’s eyes widen in surprise and he finishes the call. “Ness!”
Without a word, I slowly moisten my lips, and his eyes darken as I move in to kiss him. Evan grabs my rear and pulls me against his soaked chest, crushing his mouth against mine. He smells of workout sweat and deodorant, a mingled scent I associate with Evan. And sex. Tongue darting into my mouth, Evan holds me tighter, and through his sweats I’m aware of his arousal.Yeah, girls. See if you can do that to him with just a kiss. I’m lost in time for a moment, until Evan peels me off him.
“Well, that was an unexpected surprise.” He regards me with shiny-eyed curiosity. “Not like you.”
I smile up at him, loving his reaction. “I brought you lunch.”
“Suddenly, I’m not very hungry.” The intent in his eyes is unmistakable.
“I am. I brought a picnic.” I rummage in my bag, and from the corner of my eye, I spot the girls staring at us. An immature sense of triumph fills me. God, I might as well just stamp my name and phone number on his head.
“Damn. Okay then.” He kisses the top of my head and laces his fingers in mine. I disentangle them and push his arm over my shoulder, wrapping mine around his waist. If I’m going to behave like I’m fifteen, I may as well continue. I shoot the girls a look on the way past.
We find a picnic spot on campus nearby, a wooden bench amongst the trees, autumn leaves at our feet. I snap open the lids and hand Evan a fork.
“Picnic? That’s my thing.” He peers into the container. “Mmm, makes me think of Santorini.”
My face heats at the memory of that particular town. And what we did on the beach. In the dark. The curve to his mouth when he meets my red face draws me back from the sandy memories.
“I’m glad this is distracting you,” I say.
“Distracting me?”
“The last week or so you’ve seemed like you’re carrying stuff again. Is Lucy okay?”
Evan scratches the edge of his eye. He doesn’t realize, but he does this when he’s about to hide something from me. “She’s okay. Well, not really. But nothing major.”
After a few moments, I realize this is the limit of his conversation on Lucy. So I dig into my salad and close my eyes, wishing we were back in Greece. Carefree. I open an eye – life isn’t like that. Evan stabs at his salad; he has some sauce by his mouth, so I rub it off with my thumb.
Catching my hand, he sucks off the sauce, firing heat inside me. “Thanks for this,” he says. “It’s always nice to have extra time for us.”
Keeping my thumb in his mouth, Evan’s eyes darken, and every cell in my body wants that mouth on me. How the hell can he make me hot and bothered by doing so little? I drag my thumb away. He can’t turn me on here; it’s not fair.
“Come over tonight?” I suggest.
Evan’s eyes widen. “Of course.”
“But I have early classes tomorrow.”
“I’ll get you to bed early,” he says, and leans over, running his tongue along my bottom lip. I inhale sharply, and he laughs against my mouth. “You’re beautiful, Ness,” he says, and sits back, returning to his salad.
I lick the salty sauce he left on my mouth and his eyes zone in. We’re sharing a picnic and somehow it’s become an exercise in eye sex. We really need to spend more time together.
“You still okay for Saturday?” I ask, pushing a forkful of food into my mouth.
“Saturday?”
“The MedSoc thing?�
��
“Shit.”
“What?”
“I have to go to Lancaster. I promised Lucy…” He trails off and focuses on his food.
Heart plummeting back into the realm of insecurity, I breathe deeply. “So no then?”
“I forgot. I’m sorry.”
“I told you weeks ago! This is important. You always complain I don’t involve you in this stuff…” My attempt at hiding my irritation fails.
“I said I’m sorry.” The hardness of his tone fazes me.
“Fine. There’ll be other times.” I stab a piece of feta and look the other way as I eat.
We continue our meal in silence. Irritation sets in and my body changes its mind about wanting him in my bed tonight.
“What did you promise her?”
He looks up sharply. “Lucy? Just Lucy stuff. I should’ve thought. Sorry.”
I sink back against the bench with enough force to show Evan I’m pissed off with him. Evan doesn’t react and we finish our picnic in silence. He promised we’d go together. Does she really need him that much? He said it was nothing major, so he must be lying. So much for revisiting the summer. What we’re doing is rewinding to last year. To Lucy and whatever the hell he’s not telling me.
Chapter Six
NESS
This will be a problem. I look at the cadaver lying on the slab in front of the class and my stomach threatens to empty the contents onto the tiled floor. I’ve dreaded this day since my brother teased me about dead bodies coming to life in med school labs. Aged six, I announced I wanted to become a doctor, and the story was Jem’s idea of a joke. For weeks after, I had nightmares about zombies. As I grew older, the phobia turned to dead bodies and med school labs in general. When I started the course, I knew this day would arrive, and the anxiety has mounted every week. Now, here I am.
Glancing around the sterile white room, a couple of other people appear uncomfortable too. Guys as well as girls. Perhaps I shouldn’t worry; it’s normal to feel like this when someone is about to cut open a dead body in front of me.
I concentrate on the lecturer’s voice, but this makes things worse because he’s describing what he’s going to do. The grey-haired man speaks in a monotone; I bet he’s done this thousands of times. I wonder how many fainters he’s dealt with as a ringing begins in my ears.Shit. No. I edge towards the back of the room, closer to the open window and inhale. Fresh air. Jared’s in front of me and I position myself so all I can see is his back. What a waste of time being here for a lesson if I refuse to watch.
Jared nudges Ollie in the ribs and Ollie ignores him. Jared’s arms are crossed over his chest and he glances over his shoulder at me, blue eyes narrowed in concern.
“Are you okay?” he mouths at me.
That does it. The blood plummets from my head into my feet and I stumble towards the door. Vision blackening and sweat covering my back, I attempt to get to the building exit. Find the fresh air to slap some consciousness into me before I lose it.
“Vanessa.” Ollie’s calm voice comes from behind but echoes in my ears.
I will not faint. And definitely not in front of someone else. He catches up and takes my arm.
“Come here,” he says gently, and guides me towards the door. Normally, I’d tell someone to let go, but I’m glad for the support for my wobbling legs.
The cool winter air hits me as I plunge outside and I stagger. I slump onto a step and hold my head between my legs. The perspiration on my face cools, but the dizziness stays. Through the half-blackness, I’m aware of Ollie sitting next to me.
“I’m fine. Don’t miss the lesson,” I mumble.
“How do you know I don’t feel ill too?”
I turn my head and study his face. “You look okay to me.”
“Just because I’m not as pale as you doesn’t mean I’m not bothered.” Ollie has a face that often looks concerned, as if he’s always carrying heavy thoughts. Right now, his brow is heavier. Heisbothered, and not saying this to make me feel better.
Ollie turns his face to the sky. “I can use you as an excuse.”
I can’t decide if he’s teasing me or not. “Nice.”
The whining in my ears subsides and my head hurts as the blood flow resumes. The sick feeling doesn’t leave. “I should go back inside.”
I push myself to my feet and stumble. Ollie jumps up and steadies me. “Not a good idea.”
“I don’t want to be the topic of conversation for the next week.”
“You probably already are.”
He’s right. I drop my rear back onto the step. “I feel sick.”
“Don’t throw up on my shoes, please.”
I give him a half-laugh and rest my head on my knees, turning my face away from him. I wish he’d leave.
“I’ll find you some water.”
When Ollie disappears back into the building, I consider leaving. Going home. The embarrassment heats my face and I’m relieved I didn’t collapse. I pull my phone from my pocket and think about calling Evan. An image of his amused reaction enters my mind and I debate what to do. I’m not speaking to him anyway. I’m still annoyed he’s leaving this weekend and that I’m facing the MedSoc party without him.
“Vanessa.” A voice behind interrupts and I twist my head. Ollie hands a paper cup of water to me. His nails are chewed, fingers rough. Not smooth like Evan’s.
“Ness.”
“Ness? Okay.” He sits on the step besides me.
Over the last few weeks, I’ve hung out with him and Jared more and more, plus Sunita tags along too. She’s very quiet, and I think she enjoys Jared’s loudness overtaking any expectation for her to talk. Ollie doesn’t speak much outside of the few conversations we’ve had, and when he does, it’s to discuss coursework. Or to pull Jared up on something – they’re more like brothers than cousins. So having this reserved guy fussing over me feels strange.
“Thanks.”
“Called your boyfriend?” He indicates the phone.
“Not yet. I was about to. He can take me home.”
“Probably a good idea. If you try to leave I won’t let you.”
I open my mouth to protest but he looks at me oddly. As if I’m another Jared. My hands shake as I scroll for Evan’s number, pissed off that I have to ask him for help. I don’t want Evan to know about this.
“Does he know what class you had today?” asks Ollie, as if reading my mind.
“No.” The anxiety over what I’d face today led me to push the reality out of my mind. Denial better than confronting the fear of the day ahead. So I didn’t tell Evan.
“Then don’t tell him why you feel ill. If you don’t want to, say it’s gastro or something.”
I frown. “Why would I do that?”
“Just thought you might want to. Rather than have him fussing. I don’t think you like fussing, do you?” He cocks an eyebrow at me.
I call Evan, tell him I have gastro and ask him to take me home.
***
EVAN
I’m in class when my phone buzzes, and I sneak it out of my pocket to see a missed call from Ness. Ness calling me in the day is unusual; normally she’s locked in her med school world until the evenings. We’ve not spoken a lot since I pissed her off about the MedSoc let down, so I bet this is about me going away tonight. I don’t want to fight.Great. Ten minutes of Shakespearean tragedy later, I brace myself and call her back.
Ness sounds terrible. She tells me she’s unwell in a hoarse voice. I promise to get to her as soon as I can, relieved the call isn’t what I thought. A quick walk across campus and I find her sitting on some steps outside the med school with Ollie. The familiar jealousy creeps in. He’s not touching Ness, but is very close. And his jacket is across her shoulders.
Ness looks as bad as she sounds – pale right down to her normally rosy lips.
“You okay? Have you been sick?” I ask, as I sit next to Ness and rub her leg.
Ness pushes her head into my shoulder and I wrap my ar
ms around her. “No. Not yet.”
“You look terrible,” I say, and stroke her cool cheek.
“Yeah, thanks. Can we go home now?” She pulls the jacket from her shoulders and returns it to Ollie. Ollie folds the jacket over his knee.
I remove my jacket and use mine as a replacement. Ollie laughs softly to himself and I glare at him. I’m right. He wants Ness.
“Thanks, Ollie,” she says, as I help her up.
“Any time.” He stands too and doesn’t look at me.
I compare myself to him. I’ve compared myself to him a few times, but not on a physical level. Of course he’s smarter than me, and a better family I imagine. I mean, you’ve got to be posh to have a name like Ollie, right? He’s got better prospects than me anyway. Arts student or doctor – not much of a comparison is there? Ollie’s tall, slightly taller than me, but stockier too. Doesn’t look like he works out though. I don’t know; he’s fairly average, I guess.
Why do I think this stuff? Ness loves me. I can’t worry about this. I think the mother shit has dredged up the whole insecurity head-fuck again. What doesn’t help is I don’t know how relationships work either; I’ve never had one longer than a week before Ness.
“Come on, butterfly girl,” I say, and hug her to me.
“Cute,” remarks Ollie.
Ness buries her head in my chest, muttering expletives. I bet this is killing her. She hates not being equal. But sometimes Ness needs looking after whether she likes it or not.
“Thanks for keeping an eye on her,” I say to him.
He shrugs. “She didn’t want me to.”
Good.
“See you tomorrow, Ness,” he says.
The jealousy fires up again.
Ness. When did she become Ness to him?
***
Why is this eating at me? Ollie calling her Ness. I prop her up on the sofa when we arrive back at her place, and drag the sofa throw over her.
“I’m okay,” she says pushing the blanket away.
“The Ness I know isn’t okay if she needs not one, but two men to look after her.”
