Practice to Deceive

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Practice to Deceive Page 8

by Olivia Evans


  “This movie is creepy, Brennan. I’m freaked out. I have to touch you so I remember I’m not here alone. Is it really that hard to have me touching you?”

  “Are you serious right now? Did you really just ask me that question? Because, yes, Skylar, it really is that hard, both figuratively and literally.” I glanced at my dick, and yeah, there was no way she couldn’t see that shit.

  I looked over at her, only she wasn’t looking at me; she was looking at my crotch. I smirked and shifted, my erection pressing into my jeans, becoming more noticeable. She jerked her head up, her lips pursed in disapproval.

  I reached down and adjusted myself before grabbing my drink and knocking back the rest of it. I set the empty glass on the table and leaned against the back of the couch, stretching my opposite arm across the top. She eyed my other arm that lay between us before huffing and grabbing my hand and draping my arm around her shoulders.

  She ran her thumb over the length of each of my fingers, her attention back on the movie. Mine, however, was completely fucked. The combination of rum, the dark room, my lack of sex, and the hot girl pressed against me was driving me insane. Something had to give. I shifted toward her, so she was cradled into my side, and brought my mouth to her ear.

  “Skylar,” I whispered.

  “Shh, I’m trying to watch the movie.”

  “You’re not really watching this movie,” I admonished, biting down on her lobe.

  “I’m really not,” she conceded. She tilted her face toward mine, her eyes closed. This was it, the first time we would kiss, the step she couldn’t come back from. The one where she would cross that final line. The liquor in my system was a welcome rush. It kept me from overthinking everything. This was what I wanted after all. But the moment our lips connected, the rage I felt was like a fucking tidal wave crashing over me. The way her mouth felt against mine was maddening. It was better than I expected, and it was fucking tainted.

  When her lips parted and her tongue swept across my lip, all reason left my mind. There was no plan, no Matt, no lies, hurt, or betrayal. There was me, rum, and the girl underneath me. My tongue moved with hers as she gripped my hair and pulled, causing my hands to tighten around her waist.

  She arched her back and moaned as I slipped my hand under her shirt and cupped her breast. It was warm, full, and soft. I wanted to bury my face between them and bite, suck, and lick until she screamed. Months of pent-up frustration made me not give a fuck if I was being rough or too forward. The way she ground against me, I didn’t think she gave a fuck either.

  I pushed her flat onto the couch, crawling over her. I moved her legs apart with my knee and grabbed her thigh, hoisting it up as I covered her body with mine. The contact of her jean-covered pussy against my dick caused me to shut my eyes and sink my teeth into my cheek to keep from stripping her naked and fucking her right there on the couch.

  “Oh shit,” she whimpered, wrapping her other leg around my waist and pulling my body flush with hers. I thrust my hips against her and groaned, my mind swimming with alcohol and lust. There were a lot of things I didn’t know, things I was unsure about, but one thing I had absolutely no doubt about was that I wanted her. I wanted her now.

  “Whoa,” Rachel yelled from behind, causing me to jerk so forcefully I fell off the couch and landed on my ass. Skylar sat up, her eyes wide as they darted between Rachel and me. How did neither of us hear her come in the damn door?

  I cut my eyes to Rachel. I was completely screwed. Either I had to lie and tell her Skylar was a random hookup, which meant Rachel would blast my ass for bringing her to the apartment, or I told her Skylar and I were dating and be forced to explain why I’d never mentioned her. I swore under my breath and looked over at Skylar, who was…well, she was she fucking laughing at me.

  “Something funny?” I asked, both amused by her reaction and pissed that she thought anything about this situation was funny.

  “You’ve got a little something,” she choked, circling her hand over her head. “Right here.” Her face was red, her eyes shining as she attempted to hold back her laugh. I reached up and ran my hand through my hair, watching as popcorn flew out and onto the floor. I looked beside me and noticed the bowl was upside down and popcorn had spilled all over the floor. I guess I’d knocked it over when Rachel scared the shit out of me.

  I sighed and scooped the popcorn back into the bowl before walking over to Skylar and dumping it over her head. She yelled in protest and punched my leg. I laughed and ran my hand over the top of her head to knock the rest of it out before looking at Rachel, who was staring at me with a raised brow. Shit.

  “Uh,” I started. “Skylar, this is my brother’s girlfriend, Rachel. Rachel, this is Skylar.”

  Skylar stood from the couch, elbowing me in the side before walking over to Rachel. “How do you do it?” Skylar asked. I furrowed my brows. What in the hell kind of introduction was that?

  “Do what?” Rachel asked, her face mirroring mine. At least I wasn’t the only one confused.

  “Live with him?” Skylar’s voice was so sincere. I felt my face twist with annoyance. “And his gigantic ego?” she added. I rolled my eyes. I expected nothing less from her smartass mouth. Rachel laughed, pleased with Skylar’s question. Well, that was just fucking great.

  “It’s a work in progress,” Rachel retorted with a sigh.

  “And yet,” I cut in, having had enough of this chitchat bullshit. “Both of you willingly choose to associate with me.” I smirked at their matching scowls.

  Skylar’s phone beeped, stopping them from saying something snarky in return. She read the message, typing out a quick response before looking at me apologetically.

  “Martin?” I asked, knowing he was on his way into town. She nodded and stepped over to me.

  “Call you later?” she asked, popping up on her toes and kissing me quickly. I agreed and followed her to the front door after she and Rachel said goodbyes and nice-to-meet-yous and all that other trivial bullshit.

  As soon as she walked out the door, I dropped my forehead against it, steeling myself for the interrogation Rachel was about to launch. Then I remembered I didn’t have to tell her shit and spun away from the door, a smile on my face when I found her standing directly behind me.

  “Nope.” I grinned and moved down the hall toward my room.

  “You don’t actually think you’re going to get out of this that easily?” she asked.

  “That’s exactly what I think.” I slammed the door to my room before she could follow. I might not be able to avoid her forever, but I sure as fuck didn’t have to explain shit tonight.

  It took three weeks before I finally ran out of luck.

  “They’re coming here?”

  “Yup,” Rachel quipped, a grin plastered on her face. I growled and ran my hand across my face. I thought I’d avoided dealing with my parents on Thanksgiving after Drew was asked to work, but it seemed they were hell-bent on spending time with us.

  “When?” I asked in defeat.

  She looked at the clock on the kitchen wall. “A couple hours.”

  I jumped to my feet. “And you’ve known about this for how long?”

  “Are you going to invite Skylar?” I got it then. She was still pissed because I refused to talk to her about Skylar. And Drew was forced to play dumb because letting on he knew anything would land his ass in the doghouse.

  “Nice,” I sneered, stalking from the room and out the front door. I walked around campus for a while, my mind overloaded with all the bullshit surrounding me. Rachel’s nagging, Drew’s concern over getting caught, my parents, Skylar. I felt like things were starting to close in around me, and I fucking hated it. I deserved some payback, and damn it, I was going to get it. I rubbed my hands together; the temperature had dropped and I was freezing my balls off. I saw the coffee shop and decided to grab a cup of coffee before heading back to the firing squad. It was Thursday after all.

  I walked through the door, feeling strange knowing Sk
ylar wouldn’t be there, but she was home with her family, with Matt. I noticed Laura leaning against the counter, a cruel smile stretched across her face. But that wasn’t what stopped me in my tracks; it was the conversation she was having, and who she was having it with.

  “Well, well, well,” she said. “I’ve been wondering when this would happen.” I stared at her, trying to figure out what the fuck she was up to, when she turned her attention back to Matt and starting speaking. “It seems only fair since he already knows about you, that you should know about him as well.”

  “Him, who?” Matt asked, sounding confused.

  “Your competition.” She smirked, waving her hand in my direction.

  For a split second, I panicked. He wasn’t supposed to find out this way. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Laura and her big fucking mouth. As his body shifted to face me, I relaxed my stance, my expression calm, unperturbed.

  “Brennan?” His brows were pulled down, his face a mask of confusion.

  “Matt.”

  “You two know each other?” Laura interrupted. Neither of us acknowledged her, our eyes locked.

  “What is she talking about?” His voice was low, rough. I shrugged indifferently.

  “He’s Skylar’s other guy,” Laura chimed in. “God, Matt, you didn’t think you were her one and only did you?” She giggled. She really was a bitch and, right now, my best friend. He shot her a menacing glare over his shoulder before walking toward me.

  “We need to talk. In private,” he said, moving through the door.

  “Bummer,” Laura sighed, leaning on her elbows and propping her chin in her hands. I chuckled at her and spun on my heel, following Matt outside. I found him pacing in front of the store.

  “What is she talking about, Brennan? What did she mean, ‘Skylar’s other guy’?” he asked, his eyes hard.

  “Why don’t you ask your girlfriend?” I goaded, my anger starting to rise. Seeing him here, like this, talking about her, about them together—it made me fucking sick.

  “Because I’m asking you.”

  “I think it’s pretty fucking simple. Your girlfriend is stepping out on you, bro.” This might not have been how I wanted things to happen, and wasn’t nearly as humiliating, but the pain that washed across his face almost made me feel high.

  “Fucking sucks, doesn’t it?” I taunted, not giving a shit how cruel I sounded. He stared at me for a moment, the pain on his face morphing into anger.

  “Is that what this is about?” he yelled. “I hurt you, so you hurt me?”

  Was he fucking stupid? Of course that was what this was about.

  “What do you think? Did you think you’d never have to answer for what you did to me? That you’d just go on with your life like nothing happened? That you didn’t deserve to suffer? Fuck that, Matt. No fucking way.” I clenched my fists and set my jaw. I wanted to throttle the motherfucker.

  “I have suffered, Brennan. I lost my best friend, and my other friends won’t even look at me!” My mouth fell open in shock, like true, jaw-dropping, fucking shock.

  “Well, Matt,” I said slowly. “That sounds terrible for you. It must be so hard being shunned like that. I mean, all you did was fuck your best friend’s girl in front of a house full of people.”

  “Brennan,” he began before he clamped his jaw shut, his eyes widening. The fuck?

  “That’s why you’re with her,” he whispered. “You want to get back at me.”

  I smiled, hoping my face reflected all the malice I felt inside. “Stings, doesn’t it?”

  “You don’t give a damn about her, do you?”

  What the fuck kind of question was that? He just found out his girlfriend was cheating on him, and that was what he asked? Something wasn’t right.

  “Why the fuck does that matter?” I demanded. “Your girlfriend is sneaking around behind your back, and you ask if I care about her?” I didn’t get it. Nothing made sense.

  “She’s not my girlfriend, asshole! She’s never been my fucking girlfriend, although I would do just about anything to change that. She has always shut me down, but we hung out, became friends, close friends, and then bam, she pulls away completely.” His jaw ticked as he stared at me, opening and closing his fists.

  “And to fucking think,” he went on, but it was like he wasn’t even talking to me anymore. “She was pulling away because of you. She was around less because you were worming your way into her life, and you don’t give a shit about her.”

  I felt something twist in my gut. I couldn’t quite figure out what emotion to attach to it, but it sure as fuck wasn’t a good one. “She’s not your girlfriend,” I echoed. “But you want her to be. You’re in love with her.” That was a fact. The way he was with her the few times I’d seen them together and the way he was acting right now left no doubt in my mind.

  I couldn’t stop what happened next. I laughed. Full-on gasping, doubled-over, crying laughter. He’d been chasing Skylar since June and had been shut down. I’d gotten more action from her the first time we’d met than he had the entire time he’d known her.

  “You think this is funny?” he shouted.

  “I think,” I gasped. “That it is motherfucking hilarious.” I stood up straight, taking a deep breath to calm myself.

  “Oh, Matt, this is even better,” I chuckled. “I don’t have to stay off the radar anymore. I don’t have to worry about you seeing us together before I wanted you to. I can be with her wherever I want now. I can flaunt that I’m with her in front of you. That I can be with her like you want to be and not even have to try.” This was so much better than him catching us together. This was so much better than her cheating on him. Because she’d chosen me. Over him.

  “I’ll tell her,” he threatened. “I’ll tell her why you’re with her, and then she’ll be done with you.”

  My throat tightened. I wasn’t sure if it was in anger because of his threat, or because of what the threat meant. The one thing I did know was there was no fucking way I’d allow that to happen. Ever.

  “You’ll tell her what, Matt? Tell her you used to be my best friend? That you didn’t approve of my girlfriend, the girl I planned to propose to? That you decided to fuck her at a fraternity house and I, along with about fifty other people, caught you in the motherfucking act? You do that, Matt. You tell her all of that. I guarantee I won’t be the only one she cuts out of her fucking life.” My breathing was choppy, my entire body taut. I stared at him in challenge, daring him to deny she wouldn’t write his ass off in a heartbeat.

  “What happened to you?” he asked, his tone and posture defeated.

  “You did. You happened.”

  I turned my back to him and walked away. My head spun with everything I’d learned. They weren’t dating. They’d never dated. This entire time, I’d been plotting and planning and acting like a complete fucking asshole, and she’d done nothing to deserve it.

  All of a sudden, I couldn’t breathe. My chest felt so tight my vision began to blur. I quickened my pace until I hit the edge of the building and ducked around the side, out of sight. I grabbed the wall beside me, my fingers digging into the brick so roughly the tips of my fingernails bent, the pain a welcome distraction.

  I thought about the last couple months. All the time we’d spent together and how she’d act shifty and shady, secretive. I’d already guessed her dad was the reason she’d run off on Saturday nights, but this, her not being with Matt? That possibility never crossed my mind in a million years.

  I remembered our first date, the way I wanted to touch her, feel her, be inside her, but also the way she made me sick with disgust because I thought she was nothing more than a cheating slut. Fuck. Everything. All of it. I was wrong. She’d done nothing. Was she really different? Was she not like the rest of them? No. I needed to not think like that. But goddamn it, how could I not? Could I keep seeing her? Do like I told Matt I would and flaunt being with her in front of him?

  The thought still sent a jolt of satis
faction through my system. Would he tell her? What would happen when he finally gave up and realized, whether I was in the picture or not, he didn’t have a shot with her? Would just being her friend, being in her life, be enough incentive to keep him quiet? Would he find another way to tell her without involving himself?

  “Fuck!” I roared, slamming my fist against the wall. Pain shot up my arm like fire as the skin over my knuckles split and tore, blood exploding to the surface and dripping from my fingertips.

  I splayed my hands flat against the wall, my forehead thudding against the bricks as I sucked air into my lungs, trying to breathe, trying to ignore the pain in my hand, trying to ignore how completely fucked up everything was, and most of all, trying to figure out what the fuck I was going to do now.

  My phone beeped in my pocket. I reached back and snatched it out, expecting to see a text from Rachel, demanding I come back to the apartment. But it wasn’t from Rachel.

  Happy Thanksgiving, Stalker. ;) -Skylar

  I felt fucking sick; gut-turning, bile-rising, pass-the-fuck-out sick. I needed to step back. I needed to reassess the situation. I needed to get a handle on all of the bullshit thoughts flying around in my head and calm the fuck down.

  November 27, 2015

  Today was better. I was in control. Matt may have thrown me a curve ball, but it was even better this way. I wasn’t taking something from him; I had something he wanted but couldn’t have. Skylar was fun to hang out with, and now that I wouldn’t be thinking she was cheating on her boyfriend every time I looked at her, I could relax. I had no expectations. I sure as fuck wasn’t looking for a real relationship with her. Fuck that. No, I’d stay with her until I was satisfied that I’d caused him at least a fraction of the pain he caused me. Then I would walk away.

  Almost all our desires, when examined, contain something too shameful to reveal. ~Victor Hugo

 

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