Breakaway: A New Adult Anthology

by Jay McLean

  My fists clenched at my sides, but I tried to rein it in. My reaction wouldn't make sense to her—especially given that she had no idea how I felt about her. "Oh," I managed to say, right before my throat closed up. I cleared it, and tried to gulp some much needed air.

  "Yeah…he's at the cabin waiting for me."

  And there went my heart—down to the floor along with stomach. She may as well have sang a song and stomped on it, too. "So you were going there to see him?"

  "No," she said too quickly, but then took a breath and recovered. "I mean yes, no, I don't really know."

  I took a seat on the edge of the trunk, my body no longer able to keep standing—I guess that's what happens when you have no stomach—or heart.

  "He said he just wanted to see me. And talk about some stuff…" her sentence died in the air, which meant that there was more she wasn't telling me.

  "And?" It came out harsher than intended but I couldn't take it back.

  She sat down next to me. "And he said that he missed me."

  "Huh." I rolled my eyes. "So you're gonna go running back into his arms?"

  "No. And I'd appreciate it if you shut up and quit judging me," she choked out. I'd been around girls enough to know that she was on verge of crying.

  "I'm sorry," I said sincerely. "I just don't understand why you'd want to see him after the shit that he pulled, let alone speak to him. There's obviously a part of you that judges yourself, considering you lied to me and all." I heard her sniff, and I knew that I'd pushed her too far. I felt like an asshole. Nudging her side with my elbow, I offered, "I really am sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

  "It's okay. I upset myself."

  Minutes of silence passed with neither of us speaking. Then a howling came from somewhere in the fields around us. "Holy shit!" she squealed, gripping my arm tightly. "What the fuck is that?"

  I laughed at her overreaction, happy that we were no longer speaking about that fucktard. Shrugging lazily, I replied, "I dunno. Coyote, probably"."

  "What!" She gripped my arm with both of hers and held it against her body.

  I laughed harder. "It's not like they're gonna jump out of the grass and eat you."

  Her eyes went wide in panic. "They can do that?" Releasing my arm, she crawled into the corner of the trunk, pulled her knees up to her chest, and shielded her head with her arms. "Scott, close the door."

  "Tricia they're not gonna—"

  "CLOSE THE FUCKING DOOR!"

  "Holy shit," I laughed out, but did what she asked.

  Once the door clicked shut, she lifted hear head warily. "I'm sorry." She held her hand to her heart. "I have this thing with animals and creatures and aliens attacking and chewing my face. It scares the shit out of me."

  Chuckling, I asked, "Just your face? They have an all access pass to your legs? Your ass?"

  Her head threw back in laughter. "You're an ass."

  I folded the seat down so I had more legroom in the tiny space.

  "We should crack a window if we're both going to be in here."

  I turned to her with a smirk on my face. "Why? So that bats can fly in and attack your face?"

  Her eyes bugged out of her head. I didn't have time to laugh, or tease her some more, before she lunged at me. "Why would you say that!" She'd somehow managed to pin me down, sitting on my stomach with her legs either side. "Now all I can think about are bats eating my face." My laugh was a slow build up. A chuckle turned guffaw. "It's not funny!" she yelled, slapping at my head—which just made me laugh harder.

  But the harder I laughed, the harder she slapped, until it actually started to hurt. "Ouch. Fuck." I grasped her wrists to make her stop.

  "Sorry I'm not sorry. You should learn to keep your mouth shut." Her face was flush from exertion. But that's not what I noticed. During her attack, she'd moved lower down my body. My eyes trailed down to where she sat…on my dick. She must've followed my gaze because she mumbled under her breath and tried to get off me, but I still held her wrists and I wouldn't let go. Instead, I did the one thing I've wanted to do since the first day I saw her.

  I took a chance.

  I pulled her down until she was lying on top of me. And that's all I did. I didn't have the next part planned. I wanted to kiss her, but I didn't know how. Her head fell to the crook of my neck. I leaned my head forward and brushed my lips against the exposed skin of her shoulder. She let out a sigh, but did nothing else. She didn't sit up, she didn't move to get off me, she just lay there—but that was all the reaction I needed. I pressed my lips firmer against her skin. She tensed, but apart from that, the only thing that changed was her breathing. It got louder and louder. Heavier and heavier. I opened my mouth and let my tongue skim across her shoulder and up to her neck, eliciting a moan from deep in her throat. And then I sucked. Gently. Making my way up to her jaw. This time, she moved. But not in a bad way. She thrust her hips, rubbing my hard-on against her center. "What are you doing, Scott?" she breathed.

  "Saving you from face eating bats."

  She laughed softly and her tilted back. I took the opportunity to move across her jaw. She didn't budge. Just let me take my time, moving my way slowly towards her mouth. My lips brushed against hers and we both moaned. A sound so quiet but so affective in wordless communication. She thrust again, pushing herself harder into me. Her eyes drifted shut, her breaths came out in short spurts through her partially open mouth. I took her bottom lip between mine and moved my hand down her back, and towards her ass. I squeezed once, gently, causing her to push into me again. I nibbled on her lip, and licked it lightly. Then her phone in her back pocket chimed, vibrating against where my hand had covered. She tensed. But didn't make a move to get it. I reached into her pocket and pulled it out, thinking maybe it was the rental company. I brought it closer to my face, so I could check it. It wasn't the rental company. It was Chris. 'Hey baby…' the text read, and I avoided reading the rest. I cleared my throat and began to sit up, handing her the phone at the same time. She sat up with me and cautiously read the message, then eyed me quickly with a look of regret on her face. And I knew what it meant. She regretted what she was doing. And she regretted whom she was doing it with.

  TRICIA

  He slowly moved from underneath me and I hated that he did. I enjoyed where we were headed and what we were doing. I rolled off him and to the side as my fingers frantically typed a reply to Chris's text. The look on Scott's face when he read it, hurt to watch. I knew it was Chris from his expression, and I regretted that he had to see it in the first place.

  Shoving the phone back in my pocket, I lied back down on the floor of the trunk. "I have a confession," I told him.

  "Yeah?" he said through a sigh, refusing to look at me.

  I pulled on his arm, suggesting he lie down with me. He did, but reluctantly. I knew that whatever fleeting moment we just shared was over. He lay down on his back, facing the roof of the car with a solemn expression on his face. "Will you look at me?" I asked, hoping that he'd listen.

  He turned on his side and rested on his forearm. "What's up?" he asked, looking past me.

  I inhaled deeply and let out the words I'd wanted him to know since the moment we waved goodbye to each other on graduation day. "After that stuff with Chris, and with Lisa…I saw you at school…watching me." His eyes narrowed and they finally locked with mine. The intensity in them caused my breath to catch. I swallowed my nerves and continued; "I saw the way you were looking at me, always sad and frowning." I moved closer to him, but I didn't think he noticed. "I knew you felt sorry for me…but it wasn't just that…" His features straightened, but he stayed silent. "I knew you were sad because you lost your girlfriend—and that meant something to me. It meant that you cared about her enough that it made an impact on you. I don't think Chris walked around his school like that, feeling sad that he'd lost me, you know? I don't think he cared at all." I moved closer again, so our bodies were almost flush. "I admit, I was a little jealous. I wanted someone like you—so
meone that cared enough that they were impacted by losing me…" I trailed off. I'd run out of words. Everything I had to say was out there now.

  So I laid there in silence and waited for him to speak. But when he finally did, what he said was unexpected. "You're wrong," he clipped.

  I reared back slightly, surprised by his tone. "I'm wrong?"

  He nodded once, placing his hand on my hip and pulling me even closer. It was everything I wanted in that moment. "You're wrong. I wasn't sad for me. I didn't care that I lost her. After what she did, I couldn't care about her at all. I was upset because I knew you were upset." He moved in, so we were chest to chest, and straightened his arm out as an invitation. I rested my head on his bicep while he pulled my waist closer to him. "It's my turn to confess," he said quietly. "When you left the after party and got in a cab, I got in my car and followed you. I wanted to make sure you were okay. I followed you all the way to your house, and watched you step out of the cab, wiping at your face. And then I watched you sit on your porch steps and cry. It was so dark, the only light coming from the moon, yet I could see you. You were there for a good hour, crying. You must've been crying so hard because I could see your shoulders shaking."

  I sucked in a shaky breath, shocked by his admission. "Why didn't you come and talk to me?"

  "I wanted to." He moved his face closer to mine, so close our breaths mingled. "But I was scared."

  Rubbing my nose against his, I asked, "Scared of what?"

  "Scared that you wouldn't want to talk to me. Scared that you wouldn't know me."

  The air around us got so thick I fought hard to find my breath. He placed his hand behind my head and spoke quietly, "I was as scared then as I am now."

  My chest rose and fell with each sharp breath. "What are you scared of now?"

  "Kissin—"

  I didn't wait for him to finish before covering his mouth with a kiss so passionate it made my head spin. He pushed me so I was on my back and he could get on top of me, deepening the kiss with every second. I pulled away, gasping for air, but his kisses never stopped. They moved from my mouth, to my jaw, down my neck… I spread my legs, wanting to feel more of him. He thrust into me, his hardness pressing into my center, over and over. Then his hand went under my shirt, over my bra, pulling it down, and rubbing his thumb across my nipple. I moaned in response, arching my back towards him. He reached behind me, effortlessly unhooking my bra and setting my breasts free. He pulled back from his kisses on my collarbone and lifted my shirt. Then he just sat on his heels staring at my breasts. I began to raise my hands to cover myself—feeling self-conscious. He stopped my hands from moving. "Nuh uh," he said, but kept his eyes fixed on my breasts. His eyes narrowed.

  "What the hell are you doing?" I whisper yelled. My eyes darting around the van for a weapon in case he'd suddenly turned crazy.

  "I'm just comparing them to my fifteen-year-old imaginary version of you. Do you know how many times I jerked off thinking about you like this?"

  "Shut up!" I laughed, pulling my shirt down.

  He sighed and lay down beside me, holding my hand between us. "I want to do this—with you," he said quietly. "But I don't want to do it like this."

  "Like what?" I joked. "In the back of a rental mini-van?"

  "No," he bit out. "I don't care about the car. I care about the threat of coyote's eating your face," he mocked.

  I settled in the crook if his arm. "You're kind of my hero, you know that?"

  SCOTT

  After a good fifteen minutes of her letting me hold her, she lifted her head and rested her forearm on my chest. Grimacing, she informed, "I don't think this tow truck is coming, and even if it is, how will he know to bring a new tire with a screwblade?"

  It was my turn to grimace. "About that…"

  She reared back slightly and raised an eyebrow.

  "There's actually nothing wrong with the tire…I lied."

  "You lied?" She slapped my chest. "Why would you lie?"

  I grabbed her wrists to stop her from slapping me again. "Because obviously I wanted to get in your pants."

  She yanked her wrists out of my hold and began slapping me again, harder this time. "You're an ass," she said, but she was smiling.

  "Stop!" She did. "I lied because I wanted a reason to be here with you. When you told me that you had a flat and that you were waiting for a tow, I knew I could take my time...but then you said it was a rental-car and I took advantage of your cluelessness." I laughed under my breath. "Screwblades aren't even a real thing. I made it up." Her face turned into a glare. "The tow truck not showing up—that's just luck—or maybe in our case, fate."

  TRICIA

  It took him fifteen minutes to change the tire. I should've been mad that he lied, but maybe he was right. Maybe it was fate.

  "All done!" he said proudly, packing up all the tools.

  "Thank you, handsome."

  He chuckled lightly, then leaned against the side of the van, legs spread, waiting for me. I stood between them and curled an arm around his neck, bringing his face down for a kiss.

  "You're my girl," he said. "I gotta look out for you."

  I rested my head on his chest and smiled into it. "I like that. Me being your girl."

  "Me too," he laughed. "Maybe we could go steady and you can wear my letterman jacket. I might even ask you to prom."

  My smile got wider. "You're ruining the moment."

  "Sorry," he said seriously. "It sucks. I kind of don't want this moment to end."

  "Me neither."

  I pulled back so I could see his face. He smiled sadly and then eyed the road to Crystal's cabin. "Shall we?" he asked, taking my hands in his.

  "I guess." The moment was bitter sweet. It was the beginning, but also the end.

  He pulled me in and wrapped his arms around my waist, softly kissing my neck.

  And that's when it hit me—things didn't have to end yet. "My roommates at Crystal's."

  He reared back, his eyebrows bunched in confusion. "Okay?"

  A slow smile began to spread. I couldn't contain it if I tried. "Yeah, she's there for the entire break."

  "Okay?" he repeated, just as confused.

  "That means I have a dorm room all to myself for a week."

  His grin was instant. "I'll drive."

  ***

  Chris: Hey babe… I'm at Crystal's cabin. Some people just arrived and said you got a flat and were stranded. Do you need me to pick you up? I was looking forward to seeing you.

  Tricia: Hey Chris. So remember when we first started going out junior year, and after a couple of months, I wanted to break up with you? I told you that I was interested in someone else, and I had been for a while…I told you his name was Scott and he went to my school…? Well, I'm with him right now…and you were wrong about him. He did know who I was. And he wasn't too good for me. In fact, he's kind of perfect for me. And you're an asshole for making me think otherwise.

  Tricia: P.S - You don't get to call me babe.

  Tricia: Oh yeah.. I forgot… FUCK YOU.

  Jay McLean

  Author of Mature YA / New Adult contemporary novels, MORE THAN THIS, MORE THAN HER and soon to be released MORE THAN HIM - all part of the More Series. I enjoy reading and writing books that make people laugh, cry and swoon for dreamy book boyfriends. When not doing either of those, I can be found looking after my two little boys, and trying to avoid housework at all costs.

  www.jaymcleanauthor.com

  ILSA MADDEN-MILLS

  Spider on a Plane

  Chapter ONE: SPIDER

  “Three hours without a cigarette? Insane.” –Spider

  “Sir, you can’t carry-on your guitar—“

  “Can you make an exception for me?” I asked, accentuating the English accent. Usually, my clipped tones and charm got me out of sticky situations, especially with the female population, but with this lady I’d hit a brick wall.

  The gate agent’s beady eyes surveyed me. She found me lacking. “I’m sorr
y, but your case won’t fit in the overhead compartment.”

  Huh. It was too late to check it, and if I didn’t make this flight, my father would go ballistic. I powered on. “According to the FAA, any violin or guitar can be carried on.”

  “There is no such rule,” she said, giving me a condescending smile.

  I studied her. Older with a squat build, she had the look of a bull-dog about her. Tough nut, but I’d had meaner.

  “Look. There is a rule. Maybe it’s too new, and you haven’t had your meeting or whatever gate people do. But because I’m a musician, and this is my baby”—I stroked the case—“I make it my business to know.”

  “Let me call my manager.” She lifted the phone and…

  “Bette,” I said, checking out the name tag.

  She arched a brow.

  I leaned over the counter, giving her the full Spider effect. “The truth is, I’ll die if my guitar isn’t close to me.” I inhaled a sharp breath, aiming for a distressed look. “You see, this has been the worst holiday of my life, and all I want to do is get back to New York and see my father.” Lie. We could barely stand each other. He thinks I’m a wanker.

  She lowered the phone. “Yeah?”

  “My girlfriend, Bitsy, dumped me while we were here in Austin for a quick get-away.” I clenched my fists. “She completely wrecked me.”

  Betty blinked. “Oh—“

  “Yeah. She’s always had a cheating problem. Once it was my step-brother she slept with. Man, did that ever make Christmas and birthdays uncomfortable.” I sighed heavily. It wasn’t hard to fake feeling low. Not with a tequila hangover.

  “That’s terr—“

  “We came here to, you know, figure things out. And then she met him.”