by Leisa Rayven
“Obviously whatever I felt for him wasn’t enough. Nothing was ever enough for me after you.”
When he looks at me, I can tell he’s angry. But beneath the anger is hurt, so deep and raw that I can’t look him in the eyes, because his pain echoes inside of me.
“Do you think I don’t know this is my fault?” he asks as he leans forward. “I know that, all right? And it fucking kills me. And what’s worse is that I could have lost you to someone like Connor. Someone who would never treat you the way I did.”
I glance over to where Connor is across the room. He’s looking at Holt and me with concern. He can tell that we’re fighting.
Ethan is shifting from one foot to the other, struggling to stay in control.
I don’t know what to say to him. His jealousy is pointless. It always was. As if he’s ever had anything to be truly jealous of.
“Why couldn’t you make it work with him?” he asks and places his beer bottle on a table next to us before looking at his feet. “You said he wanted more. Why didn’t you?”
“I’ve asked myself that question so many times, I’ve lost count.”
“And what’s the answer?”
I take a breath. “I don’t know. Connor thinks he never had a chance with me because I was still in love with you.”
He searches my face, then licks his lips before asking, “And what do you think?”
I fight to keep my voice steady. “I think he’s probably right.”
He looks at me for a long time, the wheels of his brain processing my words, noting I’d said “was” in love. Not admitting to how I’m feeling now.
I pray he doesn’t ask me, because I know I can’t say it. Not yet. That would be like cutting open my chest and handing over my heart all over again, and I’m not anywhere near ready to do that.
“So where does that leave us?” he asks, his brow furrowed. “Judging by the way Connor was looking at you, if you said one word to him, he’d walk out of here with you right now.”
“And would you let him?”
He stares at me for long seconds before answering. “If that’s what you wanted. If you thought he could make you happier than I could.”
I take in an unsteady breath and put my hand on his chest, the first voluntary contact I’ve made for days. He blinks in surprise.
“So, if I said I didn’t want you, and didn’t love you, and needed Connor in my life instead of you, you’d stop fighting for me? You’d just … let me go?”
He tightens his jaw and places his hand over mine before pressing it into his chest. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’d be lying.”
I let out a shaky breath. “Yes, I would.”
Suddenly his hands are on my face, and before I can even get out one word to protest that we’re in a room full of people, he’s kissing me. My breath catches as his lips move gently against mine, and I’m so devastated by the sensation that I cease to care that Connor, and Marco, and members of the Broadway press club are standing around us.
My stomach coils and flips as he tilts my head and kisses me deeper, his breath loud and shallow as he half groans, half sighs into my mouth. His hands are on my face and my neck, pulling me closer and stroking me in a way that makes me lose track of time and place and just melt into him, as if we’re two highly combustible chemical compounds that ignite when they come in contact.
Part of why I could never get over him is because only he can make me react like this. Every other man was like a match, igniting vague passion, but brief and unremarkable. Ethan is like a volcano. A never- ending series of ecstatic, bone-deep eruptions.
He presses me against the pillar, hands cupping my face, and that’s when it becomes too much. He’s too important, and the feelings I’m having are too big for my stitched-up heart. I push him away and grip his shirt, dizzy and unsteady.
“I’m sorry,” he says, breathless. “But … well … Jesus, Cassie, you can’t just say that you want me and expect me to not completely lose my mind. I know you can’t give me all of yourself right now, but I just needed to have one small part of you. A piece that wasn’t Connor’s, or the other guys’ you’ve been with. Just mine. And I hope Connor and every other man in the room saw that fucking spectacular kiss, because anyone who witnessed that could not deny that we’re meant to be together, especially not you.”
I step back and lean against the pillar, panting and trying to calm myself.
He’s right. That kiss pretty much destroyed any doubts I had about wanting him in my life again, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to make out with him in front of a roomful of my peers.
I’m so caught up in the moment, I don’t even notice how many people have their camera phones trained on us.
SIXTEEN
DENIAL
Six Years Earlier
Westchester, New York
The Grove
“Taylor, just stick it in your mouth.”
“Don’t rush me. I’ve never done this before.”
“Yeah, well, the best way to learn it just to do it.”
“I don’t know what the heck I’m doing!”
“Stop talking yourself out of it. Just wrap your lips around it and suck. It’s not rocket science.”
“Oh, my God, Cassie,” Zoe says as she rolls her eyes. “Either do it or hand it around. Other people want a turn, you know.”
She scowls at me as I regard the glowing joint in my hand. I’m tempted to just hand it over, but I don’t want to seem like the naive girl I actually am, so I put it between my lips and suck hard. I wind up inhaling a scorching lungful of pungent smoke.
Everyone laughs as I launch into a massive coughing fit.
Holt claps me gently on my back.
“Leave your lips parted a bit when you inhale,” he says while trying not to laugh. “That way you’ll take in some air with the smoke, and it’ll burn less.”
“You couldn’t have told me that before I did it?” I wheeze as he hands me his bottle of water.
He shrugs and smiles. “Where’d the fun be in that?”
I slap his arm as I take the water and drink.
“Try again,” Lucas says and waves his hand at me. “Do as Ethan says and take in more air, then hold it inside your lungs for as long as you can. That’s the best way to get a decent buzz.”
I do as he says. The smoke still burns, but I manage to hold it inside for a good ten seconds before exhaling.
“Nice,” Lucas says, and everyone gives me a light round of applause.
Jack takes the joint. “We’ll have you getting high like a pro in no time.”
“Awesome,” I say weakly as I grab Holt’s water again and take a long drink.
“I still can’t believe this is your first time,” Zoe says with disdain. “What self-respecting American teenager gets to the ripe old age of nineteen without getting high at least once?”
I shrug. “The daughter of the World’s Strictest Dad?”
Zoe screws up her face. “Cassie, that’s no excuse. Didn’t you see Footloose? The preacher’s daughter did everything but whore herself out after church. Having an overprotective daddy should have made you more wild, not less. Sheesh.”
For some reason, Jack and Lucas find her statement hilarious and crack up. It makes me smile. Zoe notices, and her face does a really strange dance between being pissed and happy. Happy eventually wins, and she grins at me as Jack passes her the joint.
Wow. Marijuana has a magical way of making mortal enemies like each other? Why isn’t this stuff legal, again?
Holt takes the joint from Zoe and squints as he inhales. His long fingers splay, and he sucks with pursed lips.
Beside me, Zoe moans. “Fuck me, Ethan, you have the best lips.”
He gives her a closed-mouth smile as he holds in the smoke, and I nearly choke trying not to laugh at the expression of lust on her face.
She has it so bad for him.
I know how she feels.
Holt hands him the joint and shrugs. Then he turns and leans in as he grabs my head. At first, I’m shocked because I think he’s going to kiss me, which is weird because for the past few weeks we’ve been extremely careful to not show any affection in front of our classmates. But at the last second, he hovers his mouth over mine and exhales, and I realize he wants me to breathe in the smoke.
I inhale, my whole body tingling as he smiles while grazing his thumb super-slowly across my cheek.
Whoa. Fireworks under my skin. Tingly hot.
I can definitely feel the marijuana affecting me now. Everything seems to slow down and gain sharper focus, and for the longest time, all I can see is Holt’s face in front of me. He blinks slowly, and I can hear his lashes hitting his eyelids. Then he licks his lips, all slow motion and pink tongue. The thudding bass of a Barry White song starts up in my brain.
“Kiss her!” Jack yells before making obnoxious smacking noises.
Holt blinks, but by the time he looks away, my face is blazing hot, and other parts of me, farther south, are even hotter.
“So what exactly is the deal with you two, anyway?” Jack asks, his voice tight as he inhales. “Are you actually fucking?”
Holt shoots him a withering glare before snatching the joint and handing it to me.
“You’re so goddamn classless, Avery. No, we’re not fucking.”
“Then what are you doing? Give us the horny details.”
“We’re not doing anything,” Holt says. “Change the damn subject.”
“I’d like to know, too,” Zoe says. “After Romeo and Juliet, we all thought you were screwing, but you hardly ever touch each other now that the show’s over, so we’re not sure. Clear up the rumors. Tell us what’s going on.”
Holt sighs and shakes his head. “There’s nothing going on. Taylor and I are friends. Nothing more.”
Even though I know he’s lying, it still makes me uncomfortable.
“Bullshit, you’re just friends,” Jack says as he takes the joint from me. “I have a vague recollection of you two making out on my bed on opening night. At least, I think it was you.”
Holt laughs before leaning back against a large tree and crossing his arms over his chest. “Avery, you were drunk and stoned out of your mind that night. For about an hour, you spoke to people only in Smurf language. It was smurfing annoying. You were imagining things.”
“You’re full of shit, Holt,” Jack says. “Cassie? Care to confirm or deny that you’re smurfing the hell out of Holt?”
My blush intensifies. “Jack, I can say with the utmost honesty, that I’m definitely not smurfing Holt. Wait, smurfing means having sex, right?”
How the hell do the Smurfs know what they’re talking about most of the time? Is it a noun? Is it a verb? I’m so confused.
“Yes, Taylor, we’re talking about sex.”
“Well, then no. Definitely not doing that.”
Unfortunately. Smurf it all to hell.
I exhale as I glance at Holt. One of his hands is in his pocket while he strokes the bark of the tree with his other. I’m mesmerized by his fingertips grazing over the rough texture. I’ve never been so jealous of a tree in my whole life.
“But you’d like to, right?” Jack asks with a knowing grin. “You’d like to smurf him up real good, huh? Smurf him long and slow? Or maybe fast and hard?”
Holt glares at Jack, who promptly shuts up.
“I know I would,” Zoe mumbles. “I’d smurf him ‘til his fucking head exploded.” She looks up, apparently shocked she’d spoken out loud. “Oh, shit. You guys totally heard that, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t,” Holt says, feigning ignorance.
“Oh, well, I said I wanted to fuck you,” Zoe says before covering her face. “Oh, shit. There’s no chance you didn’t hear That, is there?”
Holt smiles and shakes his head. “Afraid not.”
“Zoe, you can ride me,” Jack says and gestures to his lap. “Climb on up. One decent-sized cock, no waiting.”
Zoe raises her eyebrows. “How decent-sized?”
“Seven and a half,” Jack says proudly.
Zoe nods. “Acceptable size. Tell you what, Jack, next time I get blind drunk, come see me. I might be able to cope with fucking you if I can’t remember it the next day.”
“Oh, ha ha,” Jack says. “It’s your loss. I could give you the best two and a half minutes of your life, lady.”
We all crack up.
Our laughter is loud in the quiet woods, and I glance at Holt. He’s smiling but staring at me in a way that makes a flood of heat rush through me. My laughter dies as I jiggle my knees to try and help ease the ache between my legs.
If I’d realized pot would make me even hornier than usual, I’d have passed.
“Man, I’m fucking hungry,” Jack says beside me.
“Me too,” I say to Holt’s crotch.
“If we leave now, we can swing past the cafeteria on the way to class,” Lucas says.
We all stand and head out of the trees on the west side of the school, heading back toward the Hub. The three boys walk in front of me and Zoe. When I notice her checking out Holt’s ass, I’m not even jealous. His ass is incredibly fine. It should be ogled.
“So, you’ve really never fucked him?” she whispers, as she continues to stare at his butt.
“Nope.”
I want to bite his butt. Not hard. Just little nibbles, all over those firm cheeks. Really unsure if this is the pot talking or I just have a weird body-biting fetish. Maybe it’s a little of both.
“I bet he’s amazing in bed,” Zoe whispers. “Just imagine it, all that intensity and passion he has in his acting finally letting loose. He’d be like a sexual stallion.”
Jebus, Zoe, would you shut up? As if I’m not having enough trouble not humping him. Stop making me want him more.
I drag my eyes away from his butt and watch my feet instead.
Whoa. Look at the grass. So many blades. So pretty. So green. I wonder what green would taste like.
“So,” Zoe says and nudges me with her elbow, “who’s the best lay you’ve ever had?”
Well, so far? Holt’s thigh. And fingers. “Um …”
“Was there someone back in Washington?”
Not unless you count my old bicycle, which used to rub against me in strange and not-entirely-unpleasant ways. “Well …”
“‘Cause I’ve heard some of those small-town boys can be total perverts.”
A boy from my high school videotaped himself having sex with a watermelon. And a cucumber. Simultaneously. “Well, yeah …”
“So who was it?”
I look back at Holt’s ass as I try to figure out what to say, because I’m betting that if I stare at it hard enough, the secrets of the universe will be revealed to me.
Do I tell her and risk ridicule? I mean, she’s being nice to me now, but what happens when the high wears off?
“Come on, Cassie,” she says, urging me on. “If you tell me yours, I’ll tell you mine.”
“Well, uh …” No, no one must know. Just make up a name. Any name. “His name was …”
Bob, Sam, Cletus, Zach, Jake, Joanne! Any name will do! Wait, no … not Joanne. Or Cletus.
Zoe grabs my arm and stops short. “Oh my God …”
“Zoe—”
“Don’t tell me you’re a—”
“No, don’t say it …”
She leans in and whispers, “You’ve never had sex, have you?” She says it with the same amount of hushed sympathy as if she’d just discovered I was dying of cancer.
I blush and pull my arm away from her so I can keep walking.
“Aw, Cassie, don’t be mad,” she calls after me. “I’m not going to tell anyone you’re a virgin!”
The boys in front of me stop and turn, and Jack and Lucas look at me in disbelief. Holt glances at me
nervously before shoving his hands in his pockets and staring at the ground.
“Crap,” Zoe mumbles behind me. “Sorry. My bad.”
“Taylor,” Jack says, a broad smile spreading over his face, “tell me it isn’t so. No one has planted their flag in your virgin territory yet? That’s just wrong.”
Lucas looks at me in genuine shock. “That’s impossible. How did this happen? Have you been dating blind men?”
I put my hands on my hips. “Would you stop treating me like I have a rare and incurable disease? I’m not a leper, for God’s sake.”
“No, of course not,” Jack says sympathetically as he walks over to rub my shoulders. “But, Taylor, really … what the hell are you waiting for? Are you one of those chicks who’s saving it for marriage? Because let me tell you, my mom did that and it was a bad move. Apparently, my dad is a lousy lay. That’s why I’m an only child. I’m pretty sure they’ve only ever done it that one time.”
I blush. “I’m not saving it, okay?”
“Then why are you still a virgin?” Zoe asks.
“Because …” I don’t want to look at Holt, but I can’t stop myself. “I just haven’t found a guy yet who wants to sleep with me, I guess.”
At that statement, he loses all interest in his shoes and looks straight at me, frowning and intense.
“Okay, now I’m going to have to call bullshit,” Jack says with a laugh. “Because I know for a fact That there are at least half a dozen guys at The Grove who would give their right ball to bang you, me included.”
Lightning fast, Holt punches him in the arm.
“Ow, dude!” Jack rubs his arm and scowls at Holt. “What the fuck was that for?”
“Just have some fucking respect, would you?”
“Settle the fuck down. I have respect. It was a compliment. Plus, I want her to know she has options.”
Holt looks like his head’s about to explode. “Banging you is not an option, you fucking Neanderthal. It’d be cruel and unusual punishment.”
Jack throws up his hands. “Why the hell does everyone keep dissing my sexual prowess? I happen to be a very sensitive and thorough lover.” He looks back at me and whispers, “Am I selling this at all? ‘Cause if you wanted to ditch media class this afternoon so I could relieve you of your virginal burden, I’d be more than willing. I’m just saying …”
