by Ella Fields
“You look great,” he said, taking his eyes off the road to flick them over me. “Leather looks good on you.”
I was about to blurt out that it belonged to my friend, but thought that might ruin whatever street cred I’d just accrued. “Thanks.” Eyeing his jeans and bomber jacket, I tried to think about what to say in return. “You look … warm.”
Oh, Christ. Just send a bolt of lightning down from the sky to land on my head right now. Please and thank you.
Callum bellowed out a laugh, and I twisted in my seat to watch him swipe underneath his eyes, and the way his whole face crinkled. “Shit, you’re cute.” He pulled into an underground parking lot, flipping on his blinker when he saw a car pulling out. “You don’t date much, do you?”
Warmth instantly filled my cheeks, and I looked away as he parked. “No, not really.”
He turned the car off, then his fingers were gently turning my face to his. My heart started pounding so hard, I thought it might burst free of my chest and splatter all over the leather seats of his Lexus. “I kind of like that.”
“You do?” My voice sounded breathy.
With his teeth running over his bottom lip, he nodded. “Yeah, you’re different. I don’t know how the hell you managed to stay so …”
“Naïve?” I offered.
“Innocent,” he said with a smirk. “For so long. But I fucking love it.”
“Fetish of yours?” I asked, watching his dark eyes heat as his lashes fluttered. God, he really was sexy. In a way that spelled bad things.
He chuckled. “Not until now.”
We stared at each other for another few racing heartbeats, his thick fingers feeling heavy on my chin. When they started to drift toward my lips, my stomach jumped. “We should go. Might miss the movie otherwise.”
Blinking quickly, he dropped his hand and opened his door. I got out just as he was rounding the car to my side. “You’re supposed to wait. A gentleman will open your door.”
“I didn’t peg you for much of a gentleman.” Confidence bloomed inside me. Maybe it was the way he looked at me, or how he still wanted me, despite my awkward quirks, but I started feeling comfortable enough to spar with him.
“Ah.” He poked the end of my nose, then grabbed my hand as he locked the car and tucked his keys away. “First mistake, beautiful. Don’t assume shit when it comes to me.”
With his large hand holding mine, I used my free one to right my glasses, trying to distract myself from the feeling of excitement unfurling in me.
Callum grabbed tickets to some horror movie while I was in the bathroom, and I couldn’t help but ask, “Why? I don’t really like horror movies.”
Winking, he said, “Exactly what I was planning on. Trying the old junior high trick.” I actually rolled my eyes, which earned me another chuckle. “Come on, popcorn?”
We got some soda, popcorn, and candy before making our way into the half empty theatre and taking a seat in the back corner. I eyed him with a brow raised as he took a seat and patted the one next to his. “Another junior high trick? Back corner, second base?”
“You’re catching on, beautiful.”
Smiling, I sat down and got comfortable before chancing a glance at him. He looked huge, trying to get his large frame comfortably seated in the cheap movie chair. Despite not touching me, he even felt huge just sitting next to me. I’d almost forgotten I was on a date with a football player.
“What position do you play?” I asked, shoving a handful of popcorn into my mouth and trying to ignore the sting elicited by the subject.
The opening ads started, and he tucked his hand into the box to dig out some popcorn for himself. “Linebacker.”
“Oh, wow.” I tilted my head. “You love it?”
He nodded. “Fuck yeah, I do. I’m hoping the scouts rumored to visit Gray Springs show up this semester. We’re in for a great season. Did you come to the first game?”
I looked at the screen as the movie started. “Nope, didn’t know about it.” I did, just pretended otherwise.
“You like football?”
I didn’t. “Sure.” I grabbed my soda, chewing a bit too hard on the straw after taking a big sip.
“You should come to a game sometime then.”
The movie was well and truly beginning by that point, and he thankfully took my half nod for an answer and turned his curious gaze from me to the screen.
At an hour in, I was just returning from a pretend trip to the bathroom after watching some woman get tortured to death. “I’m so going to have nightmares,” I muttered, sitting down as the screaming began anew.
“What’s up?” Callum asked.
“Nothing.” I painted a smile on and tried to think about puppies, kittens, and cute little baby lambs as I stared at the side of the movie screen with Callum’s arm around my shoulder.
He seemed to be pretty invested in the movie, and I didn’t know whether to be grateful for that. Obvious reason being that I didn’t think I was ready to try any bases tonight, let alone in the back of a movie theatre. Though, I didn’t know if I should maybe be annoyed that he didn’t care about my tensing body under his arm every time someone was brutally murdered.
Ugh, this dating thing was for the birds.
He smelled really good, though. Like some expensive aftershave. Kind of shower fresh, yet a little syrupy too but not too overpowering. I finished the popcorn, clutching the box a little too high in my lap like it was a barrier between me and the gore on the screen, right until the credits started.
Callum seemed a little stunned. “Well, shit. That was fucking awesome.”
Totally awesome. “Uh-huh, ready to go?” I wanted to go home and watch an episode of Care Bears on YouTube or something.
“Sure. You don’t wanna grab a coffee or anything?”
“I’ve got an early class,” I lied, standing up and dusting the popcorn from my lap.
He stretched his massive arms over his head, twisting his torso side to side. My mouth fell open when I saw his shirt ride up. Abs on abs followed by a dark trail that led down into his pants.
“You’re cute when you get flustered.” He stood, grabbing my bag for me and wrapping his hand around mine.
“I’m not flustered,” I mumbled as we trudged slowly down the steps behind the other people.
“Yeah?” He poked me in the cheek. “These things give you away, every time.”
I scowled at him, and he chuckled. “I’m going to kiss you. Just throwing it out there so you have enough time to wrap your brain around it.”
I sucked in air way too loudly and prayed to God he didn’t hear it.
The drive back to campus was filled with questions, which helped to take my mind off what might come when we got there. Callum asked where I was from, what I was majoring in, and what I did for fun. And even though my answers weren’t all that interesting or forthcoming, he seemed to be genuinely interested.
“My dad wants me to major in poli sci.” He scoffed. “It’s the pits. Good for you for doing what you want. You wanna teach, open a studio? Or sell your art?”
“I’m not sure yet. I can’t seem to make up my mind.” My hands curled around my purse in my lap as the soft lights from campus grew closer at the end of the long road.
“Luckily, you have plenty of time then.” Turning, he drove slowly down the narrow streets, pulling up outside my dorm.
There were a few people standing around outside, two girls and a guy. They all glanced over when they saw Callum’s sleek gray Lexus pull in, then averted their eyes back to each other. I waited for him to open my door this time, my lips pinched tightly between my teeth. Perhaps if I kept them there, he wouldn’t be tempted to kiss them.
Offering his hand once the door was open, he smiled and tugged me out of the car with enough gentle force to send me falling against his hard chest.
“Uh.” I didn’t know what to say or where to put my hands. The door was shut behind me, then he was backing me up a few steps until my
back lay flush with the cool exterior of the car.
My hands were placed around his neck, and he leaned in until his forehead was almost resting on mine. I was tall, at least five-foot-eight, but he had to duck his head a fair bit, and that alone sent a reminder of what it had been like with Quinn. How he used to have to do the same, and it’d make me feel like I was just the right size, instead of all gangly limbs.
I can’t do this.
“You smell like caramel,” he whispered.
“It’s my lotion and my, um, lip balm.”
The smirk that edged his lips sent tiny flickers of excitement zinging through my body. Maybe I could do this.
“Will you see me again?”
“I’m sure I probably will.” I felt kind of hypnotized by his dark eyes.
His chest rumbled against me with his laugh. “Fuck, let me taste you already.”
Not waiting for my answer, he grabbed my cheeks with his large hands and tilted my head back at the same time his warm, soft lips pressed against mine. It felt nice … different, but nice.
He tasted like Coke, and a little salt from the popcorn remained on his lips. It made it easy for my own to part as he willed them to, his tongue slowly dipping into my mouth and finding mine. They touched, and I shivered. He groaned, and I started to recoil at the unfamiliar sound of it.
I pulled back, almost whacking my head against his car, and breathed in a heavy lungful of cool air. His eyes slowly opened, and when I looked into them, my stomach lurched. To my embarrassment, tears sprung to my eyes like prickling needles that insisted I needed further punishing.
His brow creased. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m sorry. I’m …”
“Shit.” He stepped back a little, giving me some much-needed space. “Did I hurt you?”
His eyes searched mine, and I felt like the biggest idiot. “No, you didn’t hurt me at all. It’s just …”
“Tell me,” he pleaded when I hesitated.
“I can’t really do that. You’ll think it’s stupid.”
Staring at me for a beat longer, he cursed under his breath and wiped a hand down his face. “You’re messed up over someone?”
Well, holy steaming crap. Was it that obvious? Or was he that perceptive? And what should I do? I guess honesty was the least I could give him. He was nice, sweet enough, and he was actually interested in me. “Yeah, a little.”
“A little,” he repeated slowly.
Nodding, I glanced up at the sky. The stars were hiding tonight, but I knew they were still there. Feeling defeated, I dragged my gaze back to Callum. “I understand if that’s kind of weird for you. But it … it’s taking some time to get over.”
His lip disappeared into his mouth as he seemed to think something over for a minute. “How about this? Put my number in your phone, and when you feel like you might be ready, you’ll know how to reach me.”
Tucking some hair behind my ear, the tears long forgotten, I smiled a real smile at him. Then I reached into the car for my purse and handed him my phone.
“So you’re not going to call him?”
It was the following Friday night, and Pippa and I were lying on her bed, swinging our legs in the air and waiting for our toenails to dry. We’d painted them a color called Appleberry, a deep burgundy, but I wasn’t completely sold on it. “He said to wait until I was ready. I don’t want to call him just because I’m bored.”
“But you might never be ready,” she said. “What a cop-out. The dude doesn’t want you bad enough if he hasn’t tried to see you since.”
I guffawed. “He’s waiting for me.”
“Yeah, like a pussy.” She sat up, inspecting her toes. “Wanna watch a movie?”
“Nope. I’m still trying to get over the nightmares after last weekend. Just the word movie is enough to bring them running at night.” A shiver rolled down my back.
Pippa laughed. “You’re such a wimp. Again, he’s not the brightest crayon in the box for not using that to his advantage.”
“He was so invested in it. It was almost creepy itself.”
Shouts echoed out in the hall, laughter and chatter flowing underneath our door. Pippa sighed. “Another weekend, another party.”
“Where’s this one?”
“I think there are two. Biggest one is the frat house.”
I sat up, prodding at my now dry toenails. “How do you know this stuff?”
“I listen,” she simply said, getting up and wandering to the wardrobe. “Well, if we don’t want to join them, let’s have our own fun.” Plastic bags crinkled, and she cursed, picking up fallen articles of clothing before she emerged with a bottle of vodka.
“Um.” I tilted my head, my eyes darting back and forth between her smug smile and the full, one liter glass bottle. “How’d you get that?”
“My mom’s. Took it before I left.”
“Why?”
She stuffed some things back onto the top shelf of the wardrobe. “When I got accepted here, I read this blog, and it was full of dumb stories. Basically, some chick who complained incessantly about college life. However, one thing she mentioned stuck. And that was to keep alcohol nearby. Or a joint. Because you never know when your head might be near exploding with stress … or something.” She closed the doors.
“We’re not that stressed,” I said.
“Nah, but we’re bored as fuck. Am I right?” She twisted the seal off the cap, tossing it into the trashcan next to her dresser.
I was still stuck on how she got it, though. “Your mom won’t notice it’s gone?”
“She only drinks wine. This was given to her by an old boss three Christmases ago. She’ll never know. Even if she did, I doubt she’d care. She trusts me to a certain extent, anyway.” Pippa grinned, undoing the cap and taking a big gulp. She quickly turned red, then choking and gasping ensued. “Holy motherfucking shit balls of fire on a frog pond’s lily pad of fuck.”
Laughing, I fell back onto the bed, holding my stomach as tears leaked from my eyes. “Oh, my God.”
“Shut up,” she said, but she was laughing too.
I sat up, wiping my eyes. “You’ve never drunk before?”
Pippa eyed the bottle as if it’d betrayed her. “Yeah, just not straight vodka. This stuff is brutal.”
“And you expect me to have some?” I shook my head. “No way, lady.”
Chewing her lip, she looked around for a moment, then her eyes twinkled. “Be right back.”
Grabbing her purse, she dumped the vodka on my dresser and ran out the door. I smiled awkwardly at a few girls who walked by. Pippa came back a minute later with her arms full of orange juice.
“Jesus. Give me a hand, would you?”
I got up and grabbed some from her, and she closed the door with her butt. “What are you doing? Mixing these with it?”
“Yep. Like a Screwdriver, baby.”
I didn’t let on that I didn’t know what that was. Standing there, I watched as she grabbed a glass from the dresser and filled a quarter with vodka, the rest with juice. “I suppose that’d go down a bit easier.”
“Oh, yeah. Here.” She handed it to me.
“What?”
Rolling her eyes, she said, “Drink it. Did you really think I was going to do this on my own?”
“You didn’t even ask me first.”
“Got anything better to do, oh Daisy, dearest?” She quirked a brow.
“Touché.” I shrugged, taking the glass and watching her fill another.
“Besides, these puppies cost me three bucks a pop from the damn vending machine. We’re drinking. Ready? On three.”
Holding mine to my lips, I waited as she counted to three. Then it was down the hatchet. Licking my lips, I acquiesced. “Not bad. Not bad at all. There’s a bit of a tang, but the orange juice really overpowers it.”
“You remind me of a guest judge from MasterChef.” She laughed.
Laughing too, I continued to drink.
Soon enough, only half
of the vodka remained and hardly any orange juice. We’d somehow ended up on the floor, having a staring match.
“You blinked first,” she said, a bit of a slur to her words.
I was feeling warm, deliciously warm. And happy. I couldn’t stop smiling. “Okay,” I said. “Again?”
“I don’t know what you just said, but let’s go.”
She stood, and I followed, using my bed to help me. “Where we gonna go?” I asked.
“Everywhere, baby!”
I followed her out the door, just remembering to grab my keys before the door slammed shut. “Crap,” I muttered, staring down at my green cotton dress and bare feet. My head spun a little as I tilted it back up to call after Pippa. “Pip! We have no damn shoes on our feet!”
I heard her say, “Oh, my God,” right before she was climbing back up the stairs and marching down the hall. “Shit, no keys.”
I held up mine, grinning like I’d found treasure. She snickered, and it took me a good minute to get the door open. “We should probably wear jackets too. It’s a little cold out there.”
I tugged on my Chucks, then snatched my long, gray knit cardigan, and followed her back out the door.
“Should we go to a party?” I asked as we slowly navigated the stairs.
Out on the street, excitement had my feet moving quickly until Pippa grabbed my arm and said, “Which one?”
“Go big or go home.”
We headed across campus to the alumni buildings that skirted the back of it like tall, intimidating sentries keeping watch over the grounds. As we walked over the damp grass, people came into view. A thumping bass filled my ears, and Pippa whispered loudly, “We’re really doing this? I don’t know if I’m drunk enough.”
“We’re just the right amount.”
Holding my hand, she walked on, and we weaved in and out of people who were spilling down the steps onto the front lawn. Inside, it was crowded. People were dancing, playing pool, or making out in the corners of the room. We kept moving, found the kegs, and poured ourselves a beer each.
“Ew,” I hissed, smacking my lips together. “Gross.”
