The Guys Are Props Club

by Ingrid Seymour

  Sebastian interlaced his fingers with mine and lowered himself on top of me.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll be gentle.”

  And he was, insistent and gentle. He took his time, kissing me, burying his face in my neck and shivering. I held him in my arms and felt him melt into me, vulnerable and mine.

  When I had adjusted to the gentle pushing and thrusting, he pushed harder. My hips began moving in the same time with his. With a final abrupt push he was in. I arched my back and cried out.

  “It’s okay,” he whispered and continued moving, deeper and closer. As he pushed forward, he stayed with me for a few delicious beats, then thrust again. He kept the same pace, untiring. He drove me to the edge of ecstasy as he had before, seeming to know exactly what I needed and when.

  Just when I couldn’t take it anymore, he pressed hard against me and began moving his hips in circles. He was deep inside me, but also pressing against my skin on the surface, giving me intense pleasure everywhere. My belly spasmed violently. Reading my every reaction, Sebastian increased his pace, driving my awareness back to my core, helping my dwindling energy focus entirely on the wealth of sensations he’d unleashed within me.

  I reared up, seized by spasms of pleasure that came and went with unfathomable intensity. Sebastian cradled me in his arms as the raw thrill coursed through me, blooming from my core to every corner of my body.

  His release came soon after mine in shuddering waves that made Sebastian’s entire body tremble. When he was spent, he held me tight, still inside me. As our breaths grew calm and our bodies limp from exertion, he freed the covers and draped them over us. We snuggled closely, my cheek on his chest, his hand on the curve of my hip. We slept.

  Chapter 32

  I woke up in Sebastian’s bed. The first thing I noticed was his fresh scent on the pillow and sheets. The second thing was that he wasn’t there. I sat up, holding the covers to my chest.

  “Good morning,” he said from the kitchenette. He poured orange juice into two tumblers on the bar-style counter in front of him. “How did you sleep?”

  “I slept very well, and you?” A flush rose to my cheeks as I looked over the edge of the bed, trying to find something to wear. The closest thing was his charcoal, button-up shirt. Feeling strangely shy, I snatched it and put it on when he turned toward the stove.

  “Breakfast in bed.” He approached, two plates in hand, bare feet and shirtless. His dark jeans hung low on his hips. A twinge of desire thrummed inside me. He handed me a plate and slipped under the covers next to me.

  “It looks delicious.” He had prepared bacon and eggs, and their steaming aroma rose from the plate, enticing me.

  Sebastian leaned in for a kiss. His disheveled hair tickled my forehead. It made me smile. He smiled back.

  Spearing a piece of scrambled eggs with his fork, he reclined on the pillow, content, and began to eat. I picked up a slice of crispy bacon and took a bite.

  “You’re a great cook,” I said.

  He chuckled, deep in his throat. When we finished eating, he took my plate and put it on the bedside table with his.

  Scrunching up his nose, he said, “I left the orange juice, waaay over there.” He pointed dramatically toward the kitchenette, which was no more than a few feet away.

  “I’ll go get it.” I started to climb out of bed, but he pulled me back.

  “You’re not going anywhere. I’m just getting started with you.”

  Sebastian gathered me close and made love to me anew.

  Chapter 33

  I walked out of chemistry class, humming. Sebastian and I had a date at the top of the Social Science Tower tonight. I hadn’t seen him since yesterday morning, when we woke up on my little bed, our legs tangled like a baked pretzel. I served him breakfast, a cup of French roast coffee with cream and a cherry Pop-Tart. He loved it.

  I was smiling like a fool when the blond ponytail of a girl rounding the corner caught my attention.

  “Jessica!” I called out.

  The girl seemed to hesitate for an instant, then pressed forward and disappeared around the building. I hopped down the steps onto the pathway and ran in her direction. It was Jessica. I was sure of it. When I rounded the corner, she was taking a right turn behind the building. I kept running, turned and stopped short, almost crashing face first into Jessica’s boobs.

  “Stalk much?” she asked with a hand on her hips and a crooked grin on her full lips.

  I was panting, but managed to regain my composure and get my most pressing question out. “Where have you been?”

  “Around,” she said.

  Eyeing the large, fancy purse in which she normally carried her books, I said, “I even started thinking you had dropped out.” As mad as I had been at Jessica before, I couldn’t feel any of the animosity inside me anymore.

  “I went home for a couple of weeks, but I came back. I’ve been lying low the rest of the time. Um . . .”

  I could tell Jessica was uncomfortable and wanted to leave. I searched for something appropriate to say, but came up with nothing.

  Jessica looked over her shoulder. “C’mon, let’s grab a cup of coffee. I’ve been avoiding this conversation with you, but now is as good a time as any.” She turned on her heel. I stood there—surprised by her request—as she walked away.

  I caught up to Jessica, and we walked in silence.

  Minutes later, we sat at a table for two in the Starbucks inside the student center, cradling warm drinks in our hands. I had insisted on paying and Jessica accepted graciously. The coffee shop was packed with students, many on their laptops, enjoying the free Wi-Fi.

  “When you called out my name, I kept walking because my survival instinct kicked in,” the corners of Jessica’s blue eyes crinkled with sad amusement. “I’m surprised you’re not trying to wring my neck after what I did to you.”

  “I guess I should,” I admitted. “I wanted to for a long time.”

  “Well, then I’m glad I was in hiding.” She smiled and paused to take a sip of her green tea. “I owe you an apology. I know it’s lame, but it’s all I’ve got.”

  “Was that what paying rent for the entire semester was all about?”

  She shrugged.

  “I’ll pay you back,” I said. I didn’t like owing anyone anything, especially not thousands of dollars.

  “Don’t be silly,” she said. “I’m staying with Brandy for free, so it makes no difference.”

  “What?! She told me she didn’t know where you were. The lying little—”

  “Don’t be mad at her. I ordered her not to tell you.”

  I sighed in defeat. Silence stretched between us, and it was awkward—not easy as it had been at the beginning of our friendship. Something precious had been lost, something we might never regain.

  “Why did you do it?” I blurted out, finding the condensed remnants of an anger that had slowly evaporated.

  “Because I was jealous,” she said flatly.

  I blinked, taken aback by her answer. I hadn’t expected her to admit anything. I knew she’d been attracted to Sebastian, but not so much as to throw me under the bus.

  “Not of Sebastian, though,” she clarified quickly.

  “Of what then?”

  “Of the fact that . . . you moved on, that you outgrew me.” She set her tea down, for once quietly gathering her thoughts. I suspected this was a very hard thing for her to admit—the hardest thing she could ever say to me. I was reminded of Sebastian’s dad’s wisdom at that moment. Once she confessed that, everything else came out.

  “When we came to U.C.I., we were the same. We relied on each other so much. You helped me pull through a very difficult time. You’re strong, Maddie.”

  Over the past few weeks, I had felt anything but strong.

  Jessica went on. “Putting the club together was fun. Remember how much we laughed and brainstormed together coming up with the playbook and all those stupid rules?”

  “Yeah, I remember.” Th
e memory brought a smile to my lips in spite of myself.

  “I didn’t realize it at first, but you started changing a while back. You stopped talking about David, even to invent creative insults like we used to.

  “After a while, I realized you didn’t even think about him anymore. Even as screwed up as what your mom did to you is, you stopped worrying about her too, stopped needing her approval. Or altogether needing a mother, I think,” she said with some bewilderment.

  “To no credit of mine,” I said. “She makes it real easy to want to forget her.”

  “No. You just grew up. You became an adult, and I was still stuck in the past, still acting like a stupid high school cheerleader.”

  “Jessica,” I said reproachfully.

  “You know, it’s true.” She sighed. “But that’s not the worst of it.”

  I couldn’t imagine what else Jessica had to confess. I waited as she gathered her breath to tell me.

  “The worst of it is that I’m still in love with Taylor.”

  My jaw fell open.

  “Watch it, you’re going to catch a fly,” Jessica joked sadly.

  I closed my mouth. “You can’t be,” I said incredulously. Jessica hated Taylor. She’d told me countless times that she wished he would break his leg in two so he couldn’t play football anymore.

  “It’s true. I tried to deny it to myself, but I had to admit it in order to let it go. I’ve never stopped thinking about him. I still have a box full of stuff that he gave me.” Jessica’s eyes wavered. “You know those people that wake up in the middle of the night to sneak off and pig out on chocolate and ice cream?”

  I nodded, unable to believe what I was hearing. Jessica, the queen of cool, the player among players, was hung up on the high school sweetheart that got away.

  “Well, I used to sneak the box out when you weren’t in the room, and I would spend hours going over the same letters, keepsakes and photographs. It was pathetic.”

  I had seen the box under her bed, but I would have never imagined that this was what she kept in there.

  “Oh, Jess. You should have told me. I would have understood. I would have tried to help you.”

  “I know you would have, but I was too proud to admit it. And it hurt so much to see you move on. I felt . . . cheated. I know it’s wrong, but that’s how I felt. And then we met Sebastian, and he seemed to like me at first.

  “But then when he got to know me just a little bit, he immediately lost interest. Because, guess what? He’s an honest, decent guy. And I’m rotten inside.”

  “Jess, don’t. Please.”

  She waved a hand at me. “He liked you more, because you’re not only beautiful, you’re good and you have substance. I was just an empty shell walking around, and he could see through that. It hurt.

  “Then you started falling for him. I could tell. Your eyes lit up. It’s like you were glowing.”

  I wondered if that was really true, or if she was exaggerating.

  “That drove me over the edge. I knew I would lose you to him, my only friend. In a way, you were my link between this life and my old one. We’d helped each other through the heartache. We cried over chocolate ice cream and cursed Taylor and David at the top of our lungs, full of sugar and hurt.

  “And I was losing you to a guy, a good guy against which I stood no chance. I was so immature all I could do was think of hurting you. The same way you were hurting me."

  She looked away, blinking repeatedly and blushing. “I messed up. Big time, didn’t I?” Jessica asked.

  “Yeah, royally,” I said.

  She smoothed her blond hair and laughed. After a moment, she asked, “Is everything okay? Between you and Sebastian, I mean. Are you still . . . ?”

  “Yeah, everything is great. We’re still together,” I said.

  “I’m glad. Do you . . . love him?” Jessica asked averting her gaze once more.

  “I do,” I said, surprising myself. I had never imagined admitting to the president of The Guys Are Props Club (or myself) that I was in love again.

  “Are you sure you’re not in lust?”

  G.A.P. made allowances for lust, but love was out of the question.

  “It’s actually both,” I said, blushing.

  Jessica roared with laughter. “Good for you.” She nodded and repeated, “Good for you.”

  After finishing our drinks, we stood and exchanged cautious glances.

  “Are you going to be okay?” I asked, the way Brandy had asked me that night she told me G.A.P. had gone kaput.

  “Sure,” Jessica responded, because what else could she say. There was nothing I could do if she gave me a different answer. This was something she had to fix on her own. It was her journey, no one else’s.

  Chapter 34

  We lay on our backs, looking up at the night sky, our bellies full of pizza. To my dismay, Sebastian still preferred Italian food to sushi. He said it was his heritage and pointed out that Capello was an Italian name—not a Hispanic one. I told him I didn’t care, as long as he still exuded all that Latin hotness. So pizza on the roof of the Social Science Tower had become our stand-by date.

  Shoulder to shoulder, we lay with our hands clasped between us.

  “She really admitted to still being in love with her ex?” Sebastian asked again. From what little he knew about Jessica, this idea just didn’t seem to compute inside his brain.

  “Yes,” I repeated impatiently. “Why is that so hard to believe?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because she practically eats guys alive,” Sebastian said.

  “No, she doesn’t,” I protested.

  “Ask Matt, he’ll tell you otherwise.”

  Sebastian and Matt had done a better job at mending their friendship than Jessica and I had managed. I was glad for them and I wished I could have done the same, but every time I remembered the devious, intricate Play Jessica had pulled to get back at me, I found it almost impossible to imagine that I could ever trust her again—even with her heartfelt confession. Maybe if she’d only punched me in the eye, it would have been easier to forgive it all.

  “She must have heard your dad’s advice somewhere,” I said.

  “What advice?”

  “Well, she told me the hardest thing she could have told me right away.”

  Sebastian let go of my hand, rested on one elbow and looked down at me. “What did she say?”

  “That I had outgrown her.”

  He made an approving sound in the back of his throat. “I guess you did.” He made it sound as if it was the understatement of the century.

  “Do you remember the day you came to my room to talk to me, after you asked Steve why he told you about me?” I said, worrying at a frayed spot in my jeans.

  “I do.”

  “You said you would tell me the second hardest thing you could tell me, because you couldn’t handle the first.”

  “Mm-hmm. I said that no matter how hard I’d tried or how badly I wanted to, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

  “Yeah,” I said with a heavy breath, then looked into his eyes.

  “And I suppose you want to know what the first one is?” he asked, watching me through slitted eyes.

  I shook my head.

  “No?!” Sebastian looked truly surprised.

  “I think I already know what it is.”

  “You do, now?” He smirked, looking skeptical.

  I came up on one elbow and faced him. “I could be wrong, but if I tell you something I’ve wanted to say since we made up in Aldrich Park, maybe you can decide to be brave and tell me what that first thing is.”

  “Okay, I think I like that proposition.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay.”

  I took a deep breath. My heart sped up as I worried that sharing my feelings for him might be too much.

  “I’m waiting,” he said.

  “I . . .”

  Sebastian’s lips twitched a little bit and his eyes sparkled with amusement. Was t
his funny to him? I frowned.

  “I love you, too,” Sebastian said.

  My breath caught for a second, then released with relief. He loved me, too.

  Oh, my God!

  Hey, but how did he know what I was going to say? Was I that obvious? Or was he just that self-confident?

  “You conceited . . .” I jumped on top of him and started mock-punching him. He put his hands up to defend himself, but after a minute, he seized my wrists and sat up, pinning them behind my back.

  “You didn’t quite fulfill your end of the bargain,” he said, playfully biting my neck like a vampire.

  I squirmed, but couldn’t break free.

  “You pre-empted me,” I argued.

  “So that was what you were going to say?”

  “Well, yes,” I admitted.

  “So why do you call me conceited?”

  “Because you are,” I said, squirming some more.

  “Oh, keep doing that, baby,” he laughed, pushing his hips forward.

  I kissed him and bit his lower lip a little too hard. He didn’t seem to mind. He just moaned.

  “And you say you’re not a player,” he said, his eyelids fluttering shut with pleasure.

  “I love you, Sebastian,” I said.

  His eyes sprang open, and he became eerily still. He released my hands and looked up at me. Something was in his gaze that I couldn’t describe.

  “It’s wonderful to hear you say it.” He put my hand on his heart, over the place where my words had touched him.

  I kissed him. “I love you,” I repeated.

  We fell backwards kissing while I told him I loved him over and over again.

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