Vicious Desire

by S. Massery

  Our legs are tangled, and she’s curled into me.

  Heat floods through me.

  This is familiar, but it strikes an ache in my chest. I didn’t think we’d do this again.

  Ever.

  “Eli,” she whispers.

  I didn’t realize she was awake, but it makes sense—her body is too still, her breathing shallow.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I don’t know.”

  She rolls into me, under me, and I will myself to think about literally anything else. Like my grandma, or roadkill, or…

  Her hand winds around my neck, pulling me down to her. I can’t believe this is real, but I go with it. Our lips touch, sending chills skittering down my spine. The knot in my chest loosens.

  I press into her, and she wraps her legs around my hips. Her tongue sweeps along the seam of my mouth.

  Fuck.

  I’m hard in an instant.

  Our lips part, and I ease my tongue into her mouth. What once was a war between our mouths is now something fragile.

  Who knew we could be delicate with each other?

  Her teeth graze my lip, and I groan. I rotate my hips against her, eliciting a whimper from deep in her throat. It’s the best sound.

  And then she freezes.

  “You’re really here,” she says against my mouth.

  I open my eyes and find her already watching me. She traces my jaw, frowning.

  The moment ends with a crash.

  “Did you think you were dreaming?” I’m not sure if I’m happy or sad at that fact… but when her cheeks get red, I sway toward happy. “You thought you were dreaming of making out with me?”

  She pushes at my chest. “You were supposed to stay on the chair. Not…”

  I look away. No point in saying I don’t exactly remember the moment I crept into her bed. I must’ve done it in my sleep.

  “Do you hate me?” I ask. “Because I’m just saying, hate sex isn’t off the menu.”

  She squirms. “Stop.”

  I hold my breath.

  “I don’t think I hate you. But I can’t have sex with you, because…”

  Because there are too many emotions between us. Even if she says she systematically pushed me out of her life—she’s wrong. I’m still there.

  Just like she’s still affecting me.

  Her hair is a mess. She has morning breath. But she’s still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.

  “One more,” I say. “And then I’ll get off you.”

  She raises her eyebrow. “One more what?”

  “Kiss. For good luck.”

  She shakes her head, trying to hide the smile. “You don’t need good luck.”

  “No.” I lean into her, putting my lips against her ear. “But I think you might.”

  “Are you supposed to bring me good luck? Eli Black, of all people?” She’s stock-still, and her voice is breathless.

  “Kiss me and find out.”

  I am a selfish, selfish man.

  I rise to look in her eyes, and my chest tightens at what I see.

  Her eyes are filled with tears, and she stares over my shoulder at the wall. Her lower lip trembles—the only tell she has before she starts crying.

  I hate that I know that.

  That I am probably the one to bring this on her.

  “Riley—”

  “Don’t.” She waves a hand in front of her face. “Just ignore it and let me up.”

  I do, offering my hand.

  She takes it, and I help her to her feet. Carefully, I brush my thumbs under her eyes.

  “I can’t ignore it,” I whisper.

  She shakes her head. “You have to.”

  Her alarm goes off, and we both flinch. I hadn’t realized…

  “You wake up early,” I say.

  She goes to turn it off, and we’re left even more quiet than before.

  It’s still somewhat dark in her room. Just enough light for us to see each other. So I don’t know why the time takes me off guard—unless it’s the fact that my parents might now be awake, and there will be an impending interrogation upon my return.

  Or that I might run into her parents on my way out.

  She shifts. “Normally I’d go for a run. Today, though…”

  Ah, that reminds me. “You shouldn’t run alone anymore.”

  She stiffens. “Why do you say that?”

  Is she serious?

  “Because someone followed you and recorded it.” I cross my arms. “You usually run this early? Five a.m.?”

  “Yeah,” she murmurs, scuffing her foot along the rug between us. “You were out there one day. I almost thought it was you following me—”

  I snort.

  I mean, it would’ve been a great scare tactic. But I don’t really give a shit about that anymore. Not when it isn’t me trying to frighten her.

  “I’ll meet you here on Monday, okay? Don’t leave without me.”

  She bites her lip, then nods. “Fine. But you need to leave now.”

  I don’t give her a fight, instead just grabbing my shoes and cracking her door. The coast is clear, down to the front entrance. She watches me from the stairs, hugging herself, and I have an inexplicable flash of seeing her mother in her—that same sort of stillness.

  If she dives any deeper inside herself, I don’t know that I’ll be able to retrieve her.

  I shake off that bad feeling and jog across the lawn to my truck.

  She just has to be okay for another hour or so—then I’ll see her at the school, and it’ll be okay.

  24

  Riley

  Two Years Ago

  My phone buzzes in my hand. The screen goes blank for a second, then a number I don’t recognize pops up. I jerk back, surprised. It’s late. Too late to be getting random phone calls from spam callers, for sure.

  Against my better judgement, I answer it.

  “Hey,” a husky voice whispers back.

  It takes me a moment to place it. Him. “Eli?”

  “You left in a hurry.” He doesn’t acknowledge if I’m right, and his voice doesn’t get any louder. “Why?”

  I roll onto my side, tucking the phone between the pillow and my ear.

  He’s referring to the party. I bailed out early, and I was positive no one would notice. And no one did—for hours. I’ve been home scrolling through Instagram since nine o’clock, and my alarm clock reads just after midnight.

  “No one wanted me there,” I mumble.

  Not even him. He was the one dancing with Jackie on the table, a bottle of Jack Daniels dangling from his fingertips.

  Oh, how I hated him in that instant. We managed to hold on to our hidden friendship for months, through the summer and the start of school. Our barbs were easy to swallow when he joined us at the lunch table, or before school began.

  It meant the kisses after were sweeter.

  He scoffs.

  “You think I’m lying?” I ask.

  “I think you think too much of yourself.”

  We both pause. I let the sting of his comment sink in. It reminds me of the sharp crack of branches against my legs as a kid, running through the woods.

  “Sorry,” he mumbles.

  Those kinds of comments are meant for an audience, not when it’s just us.

  “I was looking for you. Amelie said you left.”

  “I did leave,” I say.

  I try to imagine what he’s doing, why he’s calling me, but it’s too far outside the scope of normal. We’ve been superficial so far. A surface friendship… or something where we kiss a lot. And sometimes complain about our home lives. We use each other to unload our struggles.

  We tell each other those things because our home lives are similar, and we understand each other. That’s it.

  But this phone call is like standing on the edge of a cliff.

  He can’t make me actually like him.

  “Eli?”

  He grunts.

  “Are you dru
nk?”

  It’s the only plausible explanation.

  “Aren’t we all just a little tipsy?”

  “Nope. I’m stone cold sober.”

  I don’t bother to mention that my parents would’ve murdered me if they smelled alcohol on my breath. They were pleased I was home before eleven as it was.

  “Boo,” he says. “I was hoping…”

  My eyebrows hike up, but I don’t say anything. There’s no way I’m filling in that blank.

  “You’re not very talkative,” he says. “Don’t you have anything to talk about?”

  I glance at the clock on my nightstand again. I should ask him about Jackie.

  About me.

  “It’s midnight,” I end up saying.

  “Isn’t that when all the best conversations take place?”

  I groan. “No. At least, not like this.”

  He exhales. “Like what?”

  “With you blasted out of your mind—”

  “Ah, you did see me, huh?”

  The bottle of whiskey in his hand comes to mind. And his dance moves.

  The way Jackie held on to his hip, shaking her hair out. Why shouldn’t he pay attention to her?

  “But I don’t think you saw me,” I add lamely. “I’m going to sleep.”

  I pull the phone away, my thumb hovering over the red button. It would be easy—I can hang up and we’ll both forget this ever happened. Except…

  “Talk to me,” he says.

  It’s clearer.

  I sit up. “Why?”

  He coughs. “Who else do you talk to? About important shit.”

  “Well, not drunk you, that’s for sure.” I rub my eyes. “Goodnight, Eli.”

  “Stop.”

  I do.

  My heart hammers.

  “You danced with Jackie,” I say. “That’s why I left early.”

  He groans. “Are you telling me that in an attempt to drive me away?”

  “Maybe.” I rub my eyes. Am I? Do I want him away?

  “It won’t work.” He grunts.

  Something hits my window, and I jump.

  It happens again. A little clink against the glass.

  “Rapunzel, Rapunzel…” Eli says into the phone. “Fuck, I don’t know. Let me in.”

  I groan. “You’re outside.”

  “Obviously.”

  “Why?”

  He tuts. “I’ll tell you if you unlock your door. I’d prefer not to climb the trellis again.”

  It happened once, in the middle of the day. Just to see if he could do it.

  He did… barely.

  I sigh. “Fine. Go to the back.”

  My parents’ door is shut, but I still use supreme caution when I leave my room, tiptoeing down the stairs. I know which ones to avoid because they creak. It was mapped out by Noah when we first got here.

  Through the dark kitchen, I pause at the entrance to the mud room. Do I want him in here?

  Ugh. Yeah, I do.

  I open the door and step out, almost directly into Eli.

  He catches my waist and pulls me close, grinning.

  “Hello, there,” he says.

  My heart stutters, and I mirror his expression—even though I’m still annoyed.

  I tuck my phone in my pocket and loop my arms around his neck. “Hi.”

  “You okay?”

  I shrug. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Because you’re scowling. You’ve got two little lines right… here.” He leans in and presses his lips to the space between my eyebrows.

  I let out a shaky sigh.

  “And for the record,” he says, his lips still on my forehead, “I was dancing on the table like a drunken fool. Jackie joined me for a minute, and then I hopped down.”

  “Oh.”

  “She’s jealous of you,” he continues. “I think Skylar probably got it on her phone. I saw her filming videos for her social media.”

  I step back, holding his wrist and tugging him with me.

  “I don’t want people to be jealous of me. I just want to… be.”

  He nods once and follows me inside.

  Butterflies are fanning their wings in my stomach, and I’m not sure what it means—or what’s going to happen. The anticipation is sweet and fluid through my veins.

  We get to my room, and he flops onto my bed.

  “Come on, then,” he says.

  His shoes hit the floor one at a time, and I wince. He’s so damn loud sometimes.

  I sigh, shrugging out of the sweatshirt I threw on and climbing onto the bed. I lie on my side, facing him, and there’s a mile of space between us.

  Slowly, he pulls the blankets up and over. He smiles at me in the darkness, seeming content to stay over there.

  “I don’t want to be a lawyer,” he says suddenly.

  He’s been taking pre-law online classes. His schedule is packed with history and economics, American Law.

  “Why?” I ask.

  “I’m sick of it already.” He lets out a hoarse laugh. “I’m a junior, which is apparently the most important year of high school for college applications. I need straight A’s and a goddamn miracle.”

  I can’t believe I was asleep only a few minutes ago. I’m wide awake now, practically buzzing because Eli is in my bed.

  “What would you do instead?”

  He sighs. “I don’t know. Which means I’ll just keep my head down and do what Dad tells me to do. Being a lawyer wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world… It’s good money if you get into an established firm. Or open your own practice. I’ll probably work in the stupid bullpen with a bunch of grade-A assholes who don’t know the first thing about a courtroom.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “Yeah?”

  “Dad’s been taking me to his trials since I started high school,” he informs me. “Having me look at cases and try to find the winnable defense.”

  “It sounds interesting.”

  “I don’t think I want to defend the guilty.”

  I reach for his hand and lace our fingers. “You could prosecute.”

  He rolls his eyes. “Not an option. Not if I want to keep my parents happy.”

  I don’t reply. I understand how he feels, which is exactly why he’s telling me.

  Instead, I inch forward until we’re nose to nose.

  My parents are just down the hall. They probably never dreamed that I’d be sneaking a boy in to my room. Their fears were more along the lines of me sneaking out.

  Ha.

  “How’s your brother?”

  I lift my chin. Noah just started college, and things haven’t exactly been smooth sailing. He’s been partying a lot, and I’ve been getting some drunk phone calls. Mom’s convinced he’s just letting off steam. It’s his first semester away from us—he’ll settle down.

  That’s been her mantra.

  It set me apart from the other cheerleaders. They’re more than happy to party and drink, and all I can think about is losing control.

  How disappointed my parents would be.

  How many nights over the summer did Noah come back absolutely trashed, stumbling in three hours after curfew?

  More often than not, his friend, Kaiden, was the one helping him stay upright.

  Eli brushes my hair back. “Riley? Where’d you go?”

  I blink. “Sorry. Um, he’s okay. Enjoying college, you know?”

  I close my eyes as his fingernails scrape my scalp. It’s soothing, but more than that. He’s quickly becoming someone safe in my eyes. We don’t say anything else. Just our hands clasped between us and his fingers in my hair.

  I fall asleep like that.

  25

  Riley

  Skylar and I pile into my car, breathless with excitement. The meet went well—definitely better than I expected it to. I came in second place, and Skylar was right behind me. She gave me a run for my money at the end.

  “Where were you last night?” she asks.

  I think she’s been holding on to that q
uestion for a while, since the doors have barely closed on us when it comes out of her mouth.

  “You didn’t show at the dinner,” she adds.

  Like I forgot.

  I almost had sex with him last night.

  That’s the gossip I won’t be sharing with Skylar or anyone else.

  Well, except maybe Margo.

  “Um…”

  “Eli didn’t, either.” She wiggles her eyebrows. “You guys rekindling after everything that happened?”

  I snort. “Why would we do that? He not only broke my heart once, but twice.” Who cares if he’s gentle when he wants to be, and considerate, and protective? We all know what it looks like when the switch flips.

  “You have a… a gleam in your eye.” She shrugs. “Don’t tell me if you want, but maybe I can help.”

  I sigh. “Are we going to your place?”

  “Yep. Parker is meeting us there.”

  It isn’t until we’re on the road that I glance at her. “I kissed him.”

  A grin spreads across her face. “I knew it. He was totally staring at you like he wanted to eat you today. And I mean in a good way.”

  I roll my eyes. “Yeah, well. I think it’s just the circumstance. Noah—”

  I haven’t told anyone.

  Coach probably would’ve booted me from the meet if I had, which is why I shoved it out of my mind.

  “What about your brother?”

  “He was mugged last night,” I say. “That’s why we weren’t at your party, and how I ended up kissing Eli. It was just an emotional night.”

  She stares at me. “Is Noah okay?”

  “He spent the night in the hospital. Dad was there with him. I think he’s being discharged this afternoon, so I won’t be able to stay long.”

  Skylar waves her hand. “Are you sure you want to come over at all?”

  “You’re already in my car, Skylar. And we’re halfway there.”

  She groans.

  “Stop. Noah is fine. Dad would’ve called me…” I reach for my phone to show her my blank screen. It’s been silent in my pocket for a while now—nothing unusual with that, but a relief.

  Except, my phone isn’t in the pocket I thought it was.

  “Can you check my bag for my phone?” I ask Skylar.