by Tijan
I breathed out a shaky breath. “You can’t ghost me.”
“I won’t do that. I promise. Call, text, and if I’m able, I will respond. I can promise you that much.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
His thumb traced my bottom lip. His other hand had remained between our bodies, resting just inside my jeans, and now he began tracing under my thong. He had me squirming within a beat, and he grinned, leaning forward to nip at my lips.
He groaned. “I think I’m obsessed with your body.”
I let out an abrupt laugh. He’d said he’d be honest. But I could handle that, and I stopped thinking, closing the distance until my mouth was over his. He maneuvered himself to lie on top of me, and I liked it.
Oh yes. I liked this a whole lot.
21
Blaise
This was ridiculous. I was a horny guy in heat, like, twenty-four-seven.
I couldn’t even take my girl—and I couldn’t believe I was already calling her that—to dinner at a restaurant.
I wanted to touch her all the time.
I wanted to kiss her all the time.
I wanted in her pants super bad, but I was also enjoying just giving her lots of orgasms.
We did actually make it to her camping store later, and I loved that she was looking for a security system, because that meant she was thinking of my concern. But I was also distracted every time she made a sound.
She was cute.
Every new item she saw, she fell in love with, and my dick tried to grow into its own zip code. Every time she smiled, even when she was confused by something, she was adorable. She looked amazing walking around in those tight jeans, her simple tank, and I knew how those nipples tasted and felt. I could see they were hard for me, and every time I saw another guy checking her out, I gave him the look I reserved for people I wanted to murder. She couldn’t figure out why no store attendants came over to help her. They were all dudes, and they weren’t stupid. They saw how I wanted to rip their heads off.
Smart little fuckers, they were.
I was trying to be a good guy. I could’ve pulled her back to my Wagon, driven her somewhere, and had her moaning for me, but nope—a full date. That’s what I wanted to give her. So after the store, we went to dinner.
And I was in agony.
She was currently rubbing my lap under the table, and this time, she knew the torture she was putting me through. She soaked it up, and I wanted to soak her up, but that would be later. When I leaned over and whispered that promise to her, she blushed, and I kept hearing this weird thunking sound in my chest, like something twisted up in me was falling into place.
It scared the shit out of me, but not enough to end this date. Never enough for that.
After dinner, Aspen wanted to go to a bookstore, so we hit one up. We held hands. And she showed me the romance book aisle. Her favorite.
I noticed she tended to go for the pretty covers.
I picked one of those up and read the back. It was about a school shooting. Serious shit, but she kept going back to it and then putting it on the shelf again.
I bought it when she went to the bathroom.
She squealed when I gave it to her, and I wanted to eat her all the way up, but now we were stopping for ice cream. We found ourselves a table, which was good because I didn’t think I could walk. She licked her cone and seemed oblivious that I was mesmerized. I had to scoot down when some guys from our school walked by, because my hard-on was trying to lift the fucking table.
“Babe.” I leaned forward, trying to think of my grandma. “You gotta stop torturing me. My balls aren’t blue anymore. They’re fucking black.”
Her eyes got big, and I swear, that made her even hotter. I needed to find new words for lickable, tasteable, fuckable, hot, cute, and adorable because those weren’t enough to describe her.
A date.
We were dating.
I’d asked her to be my girl, and she’d climaxed her response.
I was dating someone, and I wasn’t letting her go.
This shit was getting serious.
A girlfriend. That was next.
Or were we already there?
“Blaise.”
Did I have a girlfriend? Was I her boyfriend?
The panic I thought I’d be feeling wasn’t there. What did that say about me?
“Blaise.”
“Hmmm?”
“Blaise!”
I jerked out of my thoughts, finding Aspen giving me a weird look. “What?”
She pointed to the side, and I looked.
Aw, crap.
Zeke stood there, wearing the biggest shit-eating grin. My first thought was to punch him and wipe that smirk off, but the second was shit, shit, shit because Zeke wasn’t alone.
Our entire group of friends had decided they wanted ice cream.
22
Aspen
Zeke Allen leered at me. I hated it.
“Hey, buddy.” His leer turned even smarmier, and he shoved in beside Blaise and leaned forward, his arms resting on the table. “You and me have not officially met. I’m Zeke.”
I opened my mouth, but no surprise, nothing came out. I’d tried getting Blaise’s attention, but he’d taken that moment to get lost in his thoughts. Otherwise I could’ve warned him when I saw Zeke’s truck turn in to the parking lot. He’d parked next to Blaise’s Wagon and gave it a long look before heading inside, a confused frown on his face.
And Zeke’s truck had been just the first.
Four more vehicles pulled in after it, and now the entire front section of the ice cream shop was overrun with Blaise’s friends: Penny, Ria, Deja, Kit. The guys that came with them. They’d all entered, the girls giving me nasty looks. I saw Mara for a moment, but when she saw me, she turned and left.
Hurt had flashed on her face, and a part of me felt bad. But the other part was terrified because this group was the nightmare of every book nerd out there.
Blaise let out an aggrieved sigh, raking his hand through his hair. “No,” he growled, and it seemed to shock everyone. Even Penny cast him a cursory look. Zeke looked mildly amused. He lifted an eyebrow, waiting.
Blaise shoved him out of the booth.
“Come on, man.” Zeke’s arms fell open. “We gotta meet her at some point.”
Blaise gave him a dark look, taking my hand and pulling me out. “Not today, bruh.”
He led me through the group, back to the front of the restaurant.
“You can’t keep doing this,” Zeke called.
Blaise stopped, his hand gripping mine. His body stiffened as he turned back slowly. “Excuse me?”
“You keep starting shit and then leaving. That’s not how it works with me.” Zeke sounded almost charming, but there was an edge in his eyes.
It sent shivers down my back.
Blaise laughed an ugly laugh. He did not look like he was having the same shivers. He was looking like the one who gave those shivers to others. “That’s not how things work with you? Who the fuck do you think you are? You ain’t Ghandi.”
Someone snorted beside us.
A dark cloud came over Zeke’s face before he caught himself. Then that eerily charming smile returned, and he shrugged. “I’m just letting you know how it is. That’s all. We miss hanging out with you.”
“I’m really sick and tired of the cloak-and-dagger warnings, Zeke. You want to throw down? Let’s throw down.”
Just as I thought Blaise was going to break my hand, he loosened his hold. He pulled my hand into both of his and began rubbing.
Zeke watched the movement, and there was a flash in his eyes. Sadness.
I frowned, biting the inside of my cheek. Why?
He shook his head. “You know what? Never mind. We’re good. I was just pissed about earlier.”
What happened earlier?
Blaise relaxed and tucked my hand back in his, moving forward. He and Zeke did a man hug, thumping each other on the shoulder. Blaise said something to him no one els
e could hear, and Zeke nodded, holding up his fist.
Blaise met it with his own before leading me out.
The crowd moved aside for us, but I felt their attention on my back like I was a target, strung up like a bullseye. My knees were weak when we got to the parking lot.
Blaise stopped, turning to me. “You okay?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
He kissed my forehead, leading me to his Wagon by the hand. He opened my door, and I climbed in, his hand on the small of my back. He got behind the steering wheel, backed out, and without any discussion, turned toward my house.
He was quiet until the last intersection before my house. “Can I sleep at your place?”
“I assumed you would.”
He grinned as the light turned green, but went straight instead of turning left. “I like that.” He nodded ahead. “I want to grab some things from my house, so fair warning. You can stay in the vehicle if you want. I’m sure Douchebag Dickhead will be there and my mom too.” His jaw tightened. “Why she doesn’t kick him out and make him stay in a hotel is beyond me. I don’t get women sometimes.” Then he muttered after a beat, “Maybe I just don’t get moms.”
For some reason, that broke my heart.
He turned into a neighborhood I used to know.
I watched the houses, remembering how Nate would take Owen and me to see his friends. Blaise slowed, pulling into a driveway.
“This was the old neighborhood,” I told him. “My parents thought about buying a house here, but when the gated community started, they went there instead.”
“Yeah?” He turned the engine off, watching me.
I nodded, looking down the street. “My older brother knows people who live here.”
Blaise gave me a somewhat sad smile. “Yeah. I know.”
“You do?”
“I’ve met a few of them.”
“You have?” I felt a knot tightening in my throat.
“My brother’s girlfriend ran into this one lady. She’s kinda nosy, but in a nice way. Anyway, she’s been over to the house. She and my mom are friends, and I’m pretty certain she knows your brother and his whole group.”
My tongue felt so heavy, lying on the bottom of my mouth. “Really?”
“Yeah. Malinda Decraw.” That sad smile remained on his face. “She’d really like you.”
Oh. I blinked back tears.
Blaise pulled the keys from the engine. “Let me slip inside and grab some stuff. I’ll be back super quick. Okay? You can stay here.”
I was distantly aware that I nodded to him, and he disappeared inside.
When was the last time my brother drove this road? Did he drive past Blaise’s house? What house does Malinda Decraw live in?
Was she inside now?
I could taste the tears on my face.
By the time Blaise returned, I had stopped crying, and when he got into the car, I tried to give him a smile. I meant to reassure him, but he saw through me.
“What are you feeling?” he asked.
He’d said he would always be honest, so I figured he deserved that too.
“Numb.”
He didn’t respond at first, but he started the engine and took my hand. He held it the entire drive back.
He parked in front of my neighbor’s house when we got back to my place. No one was around when we went inside. It was too late for Miss Sandy or Benny to still be here, and my mom texted earlier to say she and Dad were staying in Los Angeles through the weekend.
My whole mission to avoid graduation had been for nothing. They wouldn’t have known anyway.
I should’ve been relieved. I wasn’t. I was something else instead.
I didn’t know I was crying until Blaise’s arms were around me.
When he started to get into bed, I stopped him. I tugged him to the movie room instead.
We turned something on. He held me. And I tried not to cry.
I mostly failed.
But he held me the rest of the night.
23
Blaise
Something was seriously wrong with Aspen, and it was becoming clearer that it was her family.
I hated it. I hated every part of how she’d cried herself to sleep in my arms last night. I’d been breaking apart, but I couldn’t do anything except comfort her.
Still, I was pissed.
And I was up early while she remained tanked. I eased out from under her. Fuck this. I was taking matters into my own hands. This was different. Aspen was different.
As I looked through the house, I got more and more angry at the empty walls I saw. There were no pictures of her, of her brothers. There were no family photos. There were no plaques on the wall. No trophies.
No handmade stupid-ass trinkets.
Nothing.
This house was a show house.
There was nothing personal here.
There were no marks on the doorway from the kids getting taller. And it was a new house, I got that, but seriously—a few pictures at least?
I was perusing the kitchen when the garage door opened and an older lady came inside. She startled, a scream came from her, and dropped the bag in her hands.
I waited it out. I’d made myself a cup of coffee, so I lifted the mug and took a sip.
A second later, she spat out, her eyes narrowed and promising all sorts of way to gut me, “Who are you?”
I narrowed my eyes right back at her. “I take it you’re Miss Sandy.”
Some of her fiery promises faded, but her eyes only turned wary. Her nose wrinkled and her mouth turned down in a pinch. “You’re the marijuana shirt guy.”
I grinned. “I am, and it’s no longer my shirt since Aspen’s been sleeping in it. She wants it, she gets it.”
I hadn’t meant that to sound dirty.
I coughed, clearing my throat. “Let’s talk about Aspen’s parents, shall we?”
A whole different look came over her then, and she took a step back.
Awareness.
I saw it trickle in, and by the time we were done with our chat, there was a bit more on her face. I, however, was ready to bash something. More specifically, I was ready to roll heads.
“Thank you,” I managed to tell her at the end.
My coffee was long done, and I hadn’t refilled it. I didn’t need the caffeine. I was hyped up on a whole bunch of other emotions.
When I turned to head back upstairs, she called after me.
“You care for her.”
I nodded.
The truth of that surprised me. I hadn’t expected it. But I couldn’t stop it. I didn’t even want to anymore.
She nodded back. “Good.”
That was it.
That was my meeting with the infamous Miss Sandy, and I’d been right. I liked her.
And I didn’t care if she liked me or not. She would, eventually.
Everyone liked me, eventually.
Aspen was the only thing that mattered, and I was going to wake the entire neighborhood up, because she deserved to matter to everyone.
24
Blaise
“Hey.”
I was just putting my stuff in my locker when Zeke came over. Shutting it, I turned to him. “Hey.”
He grinned, leaning against my neighbor’s locker. “You don’t sound too enthused.”
“Would you?” I waited a beat, adding, “If I were doing the shit you’ve been doing?”
He flinched. “Yeah, man.” He raked a hand over his face. The hallway was full of students. Quite a few watched us, and I didn’t like it. I was used to the attention. We got it almost everywhere we went, but we were getting more.
They were all waiting, seeing if Zeke and I were going to throw down.
I wanted to give ’em all the middle finger.
“Look, let’s walk and talk?” he said. “Yeah?”
I nodded. We started down the hallway.
Anytime we needed to hash something out, we went to the football field. I’d be late
for my next class, but that was fine. I only had one project due this week, and it was my last class of the day.
Zeke laughed as we headed out the door, flipping everyone behind us the middle finger. “Hungry-as-fuck gawkers.”
We were on the same wavelength.
Zeke waited to speak until we were past the groups hanging around outside. Once we’d crossed the parking lot, he put his hands in his pockets, hunching forward. “So.”
I could hear how uncomfortable he felt. That made me feel a little better, just a bit.
“I, uh, I don’t really know how to start this.” He laughed with a hitch.
I’d never heard Zeke sound uncomfortable. This was a first in our friendship.
“I do.”
He sighed, angling toward the bleachers. “Why am I not surprised?”
I smiled, and my shoulders relaxed a whole lot. “Why are you such a dick?”
He snorted. “You’re calling me a dick?”
“Yeah. I’m not a dick like you. I don’t control and intimidate and do that sort of shit. I don’t make others fall in line and do what I say.”
“I disagree with that.”
I growled. “We gonna talk this out or just go right to punching? I’m down with either.”
He eased away. “I’ve no doubt you’re good with throwing a punch. I’ve seen you do it.”
Now that I thought about it, I had intimidated Brian when I shoved him against the wall. And I’d told Jamie he couldn’t hang with me if he was scared of fighting. So I guess in that way, I was as guilty as Zeke. Well, fuck me then.
But I hadn’t hit anyone except Brian that one time. I’d wanted to throw down a few times, but I always refrained, which was a good thing. Me fighting was not good, ever. Everyone knew my brother could fight, but no one knew my rep. I’d left that back in New York and been thankful to escape it.
“Why do you think I’ve never called your bluff about fighting?” he asked quietly.
I sneered at him. “The dick part of me wants to say it’s because you’re a pansy.” His eyes went flat, and I smirked. “But the part of me that’s trying not to be that guy has no clue.” A beat. “So why not?”
