by Claire Raye
But Sienna had gotten madder and madder, things eventually reaching a point where every conversation we had turned into a screaming match.
Why was I trying to control her life?
Why the hell did I care who she dated?
Why had I moved into a house two doors down from her?
Why the fuck couldn’t I just leave her alone?
It had pissed me off, and in the end, I’d done the only thing I knew. I’d distracted myself with other girls and tried to fuck Sienna out of my system. Of course that hadn’t worked either and somehow my actions only served to make her angrier still, which of course made me do it even more. Even when it was the last thing I wanted.
I was a total dick about it too, constantly rubbing it in her face even though she was and still is the only girl I really want, the only girl I ever think about.
But now it’s like this vicious circle of frustration and anger, of us trying to rile each other up, push each other's buttons, when all I want to do is hold her close and never let her go. I’d give anything to be able to do that.
My phone chimes out with a text and for a second I think it might actually be Sienna, but when I glance at the screen, it’s from Logan.
Logan: hey, how’s it going on the road trip? You two haven’t killed each other yet, right?
I let out a long exhale, hating that this is what it’s come to, that all anyone ever thinks about when Sienna and I come up in conversation is how much we hate each other. Taking another sip of my beer, I type out a response.
Me: no, not yet. How’s things back in Cali?
Logan: Same…apparently Justin was snooping around Sienna’s place though, asking where she was.
Me: he’s a fucking asshole
Logan: that he is. Don’t think Ruby told him where she went though, but who knows.
“Bowen?” a waitress calls and I look up.
She smiles at me, holding a bag of food in my direction. I finish my beer, before taking the bag. Nodding to the guy beside me, I head outside, typing out a quick response to Logan on my way back to the motel.
Me: let me know if you hear anything about him and tell Ruby not to say anything about Sienna or where she is.
Logan: will do. You know…you could also use this time alone with her to…idk, talk?
He doesn’t elaborate, because he doesn’t have to. Seems he and Matt both figured out pretty quickly my true feelings for Sienna, even though I’ve never said anything to either of them to confirm it. I don’t bother responding, just slip my phone back in my pocket as I cross the parking lot to our rooms.
When I reach Sienna’s door, I knock and am once again greeted by silence. Placing her food outside the door, I knock again and say, “I got you some dinner.”
I wait a couple of seconds, but there’s no sign of life. Scared she may have changed her mind, maybe done something stupid like walked out and started hitching her way back to L.A., I move to the window and peer inside, my hand against the glass.
I exhale when I see her lying on the bed, her eyes on the TV. “I’ll leave it by the door,” I shout, before moving down to my room and going inside.
I eat my dinner quickly and when I’m done, I check outside, notice the bag of food I left her has gone. I exhale in relief, glad at least she’s going to eat something, even if she’s still not speaking to me.
My phone chimes out with a text and I pull it from my pocket, hoping it’s Sienna.
Caleb: hey, how’s it going? You two kill each other yet?
Again with that fucking question. God, how the fuck has everything gotten so fucked up between Sienna and me?
Me: not yet, jury’s still out on how long that will last. How are things with you?
Caleb: idk…a mess. He’s left everything in a fucking mess and I don’t even know how to begin sorting it all out.
I exhale, shoving a hand through my hair, knowing as bad as things are between Sienna and me, Caleb really did get the raw end of the deal in all of this. At least Sie and I were able to get away from it all, try and have a normal life.
Me: we’ll be there in a few, leave it and I’ll help.
Caleb: thanks Reid, I really appreciate you doing this…we’re lucky to have you. Both of us.
My thumb brushes over the keys, unsure how to respond or what I could possibly say. What would Caleb really think if he knew the secret thoughts I had about his sister, the endless fantasies that ran through my brain every time I saw her.
Fucking other women has never been a solution to excising Sienna from my brain because every time I’m with them, I close my eyes and pretend I’m with her. It’s impossible to stop and as shitty as it is, I’ve long given up trying to.
Throwing my phone on the side table, I stand, pulling off my clothes so I can take a shower. Just as I’m about to walk into the bathroom, my phone chimes with another text.
Sienna: thank you for dinner.
I pause, naked in the middle of the room as I read those four words from her. I run a hand over my head to the back of my neck, gripping it hard as I stare at my phone, willing her to say more to me. But she doesn’t, so I quickly type out a response, wanting to keep her talking.
Me: no worries…are you ok?
Sienna: I’m fine
Her reply means she’s anything but fine, but I let it go, knowing the last thing I want to do is get her even more pissed off at me.
Me: what time do you want to head out tomorrow?
Sienna: never
I chuckle, amused she’s still fighting me on the going back thing. But I get her reluctance and truth be told, I’m not totally against taking our time and spending a couple of days alone with her. Shit, maybe a miracle might actually happen and we somehow emerge on the other side of this as friends again.
Me: we don’t need to rush. I’ve got a couple of plans so if we don’t get as far it’s no big deal. Sleep in and we can go around 9?
Sienna: ok…thanks.
Me: ok…goodnight…give me a shout if you get worried or whatever.
Sienna: night.
Her response is brief, but at least it’s a response. I exhale, plugging my phone in to charge before walking into the bathroom. As I switch on the water, I hear movement through the thin walls that separate my room from Sienna’s, and I know she must be in her bathroom too.
Thoughts of her peeling her clothes off immediately fill my brain and I feel my dick harden in response.
“Jesus christ, Reid,” I mutter stepping under the water even though it hasn’t heated up yet.
But the cold water does fuck all to my arousal and without even thinking about whether this is a good idea, I grab the soap, lathering up my hand before reaching for my cock.
Closing my eyes, I lean back against the cold, hard tile, my mind going back to the memory of Sienna, back in her bedroom in Hawthorn when I woke her this morning.
I would’ve given anything to be able to crawl into that bed with her, to wrap my body around hers and peel those clothes from her skin so I could have her like I’ve only dreamed about.
“Fuck,” I groan, as I start to stroke my shaft, ignoring how wrong this is or how awkward it could make tomorrow. My dick is as hard as a rock right now, but I’ve learned that ignoring it when I have a boner for Sienna makes no difference. I’m powerless against it.
So I don’t fight it, moving my hand slowly, my grip firm as I now imagine pulling back her duvet and gently rolling her onto her back. Stripping off my clothes, I would’ve crawled over her, covering her body with mine as I kissed a path down her neck to her perfect tits.
Tugging the tank down, I would have licked her nipple, sucking on it gently before pulling it hard into my mouth and making her moan.
My hand starts to move faster now as my other one presses against the opposite wall, as though to steady myself. The water falls around me, every drop feeling like the touch of her fingers on my skin, as though she’s right here with me.
“Fuck, Sienna,” I moan, tug
ging a little harder, a little faster.
I picture pulling that tank off her now so I can suck on her other breast, her hands getting tangled in the material above her head. I’d smile, leaving them there so I could touch and taste her in any way I wanted to.
My hand starts to work faster and faster, my brain now filled with images of Sienna, naked beneath me, her body writhing as I touch and lick her everywhere.
I can feel my skin start to heat, the sensation building in my balls and then without warning, I come hard, my eyes scrunching shut as a jolt of pure electricity shoots down my spine and Sienna’s name falls from my lips.
My heart is pounding in my chest as my other hand falls against the opposite wall, my head down as I struggle to catch my breath. I keep my eyes closed, desperately trying to hang onto the fantasy for a bit longer.
Eventually though, the water starts to go cold and I know I have to face reality. Opening my eyes, I’m greeted by the tiled shower cubicle of some shitty, back ass of nowhere motel room.
Sienna isn’t here and she sure as shit isn’t mine to touch and lick whenever I want to.
“Fuck,” I mutter, getting out of the shower.
I towel off before walking back to the bedroom area. After I check the door is locked and close the blinds, I pull on some sweats and fall into bed. I set the alarm on my phone, before staring at the text exchange from before. Without thinking too much about it, I type out another quick message.
Me: I’m sorry I called you fucked up. You aren’t…we both know that’s my m.o. I hope you get some sleep…I’ll…
I pause, unsure how to finish it or what I’m even trying to say, so I just hit send anyway. Then I lie back, a hand tucked behind my head as I stare up at the ceiling in the darkened room.
I’m not tired anymore and I’m certain I won’t be getting to sleep anytime soon.
But a bigger part of me is wondering if I’m ever gonna get over Sienna Parker anytime soon.
Chapter Thirteen
Sienna
I’m up before Reid, and I walk across the street to the gas station to grab some coffee and some breakfast. As much as I want to be a complete asshole and not get Reid any coffee or anything to eat, I decide that’s a shitty thing to do, especially since he brought me dinner last night.
I don’t understand how he can act like he didn’t shit all over me, that he didn’t figuratively kick me in the stomach with his comments to Justin. He obviously cares nothing for me, and more about how much he can hurt me. That was his sole purpose. And his half-assed apology text message basically says I should just accept that he’s a jerk and not hold it against him. But it’s about damn time he starts taking responsibility for the words that come out his mouth.
The thought of getting back into his truck and driving another ten hours with him without bringing it up seems nearly impossible. I can’t wait for the screaming in the enclosed space to begin.
As soon as I think it though, I’m hit with memories of Reid’s parents screaming at each other and watching the effect it had on him. He would never admit how much it bothered him, shrugging it off like it wasn’t his business, but all the hurt and the worry would burn dark and ashy in his eyes.
When I head over the small hill into the motel parking lot after the leaving the gas station, Reid is leaning against the truck, his phone in his hand. His hair is still damp from this morning’s shower and I swear he looks like he stepped out of a goddamn magazine ad. He’s wearing a pair of worn out jeans and a t-shirt, but he makes it look so damn good. The shirt clings to the muscles of his arms, his tattoos stand out among the stark whiteness of the fabric, and the word “fuck” slips from my mouth without worry that he’ll hear me.
“You ready?” he calls out, lifting his chin to me, but giving me no indication that he’s thought about apologizing to me. It pisses me off and I don’t know why, because this is who he is and the expectation that he’s suddenly going to change is unrealistic.
“Yeah. Let me grab my bag.”
“I’ll grab it for you if you want to go check us out,” he says, walking toward me and when he shifts to put his phone in his pocket, his shirt lifts slightly exposing his low-slung jeans and a v-line that could put any man to shame.
Why? Why the fuck does he have to look like this?
I have to clear my head because all I can think about is what sits just below that V and even though I know he’s nothing but trouble, I’d still ride him but with a piece of duct tape over his mouth.
“I’m not going to find that you bought some shitty porn on your receipt, am I?” I ask, shooting him a disgusted look.
“Everyone has the internet, Sienna. I don’t need to buy porn from a shitty motel,” he bites back and immediately things start to cool down. “And besides, I jerked off in the shower to thoughts of you in that tiny white tank.”
His words nearly take me down, knocking me on my ass, but I try not to let him see that he’s shocked and possibly embarrassed me.
“You’re disgusting! Most people would call that sexual harassment, Reid!” I point a finger at him and then throw my keycard into the middle of the parking lot before storming off to check us out.
We spend an hour in silence, no music, no talking, just the tires spinning on the road, but there’s something soothing about it. It isn’t the tension-filled silence from yesterday, but more a comforting silence, one that says we’re two people who can be together without speaking. It’s the kind of silence that comes with knowing someone for years, from being so comfortable with another person. It makes me realize that despite our animosity toward each other, what I have with Reid is real and different and oddly comforting.
“Can I ask you something without it turning into a screaming match?” I ask, emboldened by the silence.
“That’s a two-way street, Sienna, so you tell me. Can you?” He glances over at me quickly, his mouth turned down and his eyes serious.
“I guess it depends on your answer,” I reply back and that seriousness in his eyes fades a little and he smirks at me. This playful game of taunting is what once blanketed our friendship years ago, when we didn’t argue and there wasn’t this tension pulling at us like an over stretched rubber band.
“Ask me then,” he says, sitting up a little straighter as if he’s pulling strength from deep within, preparing himself for my question.
“Why did you…” I pause for a second, realizing my question sounds accusing, it sounds argumentative and maybe that’s part of the issue.
His forehead is creased as he looks over at me, waiting for what comes next and I take in a deep breath.
“It really hurt when you told Justin I was fucked up.” I will myself not to look away from him, wanting him to see my face when he lies through his teeth once again.
But what comes out of his mouth next is not what I expect. There’s a change in him and his words are soft, missing their usual lack of responsibility. “Did it hurt because I said it to Justin? Or was it because I said it about you?”
“Because you said it about me. The mouth speaks what the heart feels,” I say, and my chest tightens, a crushing pressure, making me feel like I might cry.
I always assumed he thought more of me than just some girl with a damaged past. I’ve always looked beyond the way he grew up to find what was good in him, but all that changed when he started fucking anything that moved. When he started to treat me as if I was something he could control, something that belonged to him.
He jerks the wheel to the side of the empty road, the gravel of the shoulder flying up and bouncing off the windshield. The tires skid to a stop and Reid slams the truck into park, jarring me forward and when I shake the feeling of movement, his eyes are shooting daggers at me.
“Reid, I thought we…” I stop talking immediately when Reid places his hands on either side of my face. His touch does something to me, stirs feelings from deep inside and the tears fall slowly and silently from my eyes.
I’m far more emotional t
han I expect. This doesn’t happen to me, but paired with my dad’s death and what he said about me, and now this sudden closeness, I find myself unable to choke it back down.
“Sienna, I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it. I promise,” he begs, an air of desperation in his tone. “I said it because…” He swallows hard and I watch his throat move, his tongue slipping out to wet his lips, but he doesn’t finish his thought, just adding, “I hurt you at a time when you were already hurting and I’m so sorry.”
His hand tangles in my hair, his other hand slipping around my neck and for a second I think he’s going to lean in and kiss me. My heartbeat ratchets up in my chest and the sound of my breathing fills the car, hard and labored. I wet my lips, waiting for him to finally do what I’ve wanted to do for years, but instead, he rests his forehead against mine. His eyes fall closed and he breathes softly, each breath feathering my lips, making me want him even more.
“Thank you,” I manage to mutter while everything inside me is screaming so loud it feels like it will rip through my skin.
We sit suspended in a weightlessness that consumes us, the closeness of our bodies, the feel of our breathing, we take it all in, but then he pulls away. Leaving me bereft and confused, he shifts the truck into drive and pulls back out onto the road and neither of us mentions the moment that just passed between us.
Another hour floats by and Reid flips on the radio, letting it scan for stations and stopping it on the first thing it comes across. Some trendy pop song screeches through the speakers and I cringe a little.
