by Katie May
“Can you be a dear and press play when I tell you to?” I asked, moving to my starting position.
“Do I have a choice?”
“Not really. No. If you’re going to stalk me, the least you could do is press a damn button. I know that’s hard for you to compute—”
My spiel was interrupted by the beginning notes of my song. Sticking my tongue out at him one last time, I allowed the music to reverberate through my body.
Gymnastics wasn’t just flipping and tricks. It was a dance, an art form, a way to express yourself. I could feel the music from the tips of my fingers to my toes. It pounded within me, demanding an outlet.
My choreographer had decided I did best at jazz and contemporary, and my routine reflected that choice. When I got to the first tumble pass—roundoff, back handspring, full—I took a deep breath. It wasn’t nerves I felt, but exhilaration. Suspended in the air as I was, I felt like I was flying. Everything always appeared so insignificant during that brief moment when my feet were off the ground.
I landed perfectly, flashing a bright smile at no one in particular. Actually, I take that back. It was a smile for myself. I was damn proud I had stuck it.
Continuing the routine, I did an aerial that led down to the splits. My body swayed with the beat; every twist and turn was as natural as breathing. My hardest stunt was a full-twisting double layout, and I landed it with only a bobble.
By the time I had finished, I was breathing heavily. I always had a high after I finished a perfect routine, and today was no different. Usually, that meant I wanted to either fight or fuck. Since Tanner was the only male in the vicinity, I settled for scowling at him.
His mouth was comically agape, eyes wide. I also noticed that his pants were very obviously tented.
Putting an extra sway to my hips, I moved to where he was standing. His eyes followed me as if I had my own magnetic force field. Those pouty lips of his opened, and his tongue snaked out to lick the edge. His hands rose almost instinctively.
I held out my hand to him, tapping my foot impatiently. I tried to pretend I wasn’t affected by him, but I knew I wasn’t succeeding. My breathing was almost embarrassingly loud. At least I could contribute that to my workout. What was his excuse?
When he stared at me blankly, I nodded toward my phone still clutched in his hand. With what seemed like reluctance, he dropped the phone into my waiting hand.
“What the hell was all that?” To clarify what he meant by “that” he made dramatic looping motions with his hands. Guys were so clueless sometimes.
“That was gymnastics.” I reached down to grab my sweatpants and then sweatshirt, a short distance away. I debated whether or not to redress, but decided against it. The last thing I wanted to do was get my clothes all sweaty before my shower.
“I thought gymnastics was like pom-poms and school spirit and all that shit.”
Rolling my eyes, I bent down to take a sip of water from the drinking fountain. I could feel his eyes on my ass, but it only tempted me to shake it like a lunatic.
Figured that would make me look like I was seizing. Totally not sexy.
“That’s cheerleading,” I said at last, wiping water from my mouth with the back of my hand.
“Is there a difference?” he questioned briskly. Despite his tone, I could see genuine curiosity in his eyes. It was that curiosity that compelled me to answer.
“Both are sports, obviously, despite what people say. Have you ever watched college cheerleading or gymnastics? The things they can do with their bodies…that shit’s intense. It requires dedication and work ethic. I train five hours a day, five days a week. Once you commit to it, you can’t do it half-assed. Competitive cheer involves both gymnastics and stunting.” When he stared at me dumbly, I elaborated in simpleton terms. “Cheerleading is dancing, flipping, and throwing people up in the air. At least competitive. Sideline cheer is different, and that actually involves cheers.”
“And you do gymnastics?” he asked.
I nodded, stepping outside. The heat greeted me immediately, and I was suddenly grateful I hadn’t put my sweats back on. It was blisteringly hot, the sun broaching the horizon in the cloudless sky. A few people were already up and about, walking the campus dressed in the traditional academy uniforms.
Conformity at its finest, my friends.
A few stared at me as I strutted by, dressed still in my leotard, but I ignored them. It wasn’t as if I was flaunting a lot of skin besides my legs. And it wasn’t as if I was dressed the way I was for their benefit. They could get over themselves.
It probably didn’t help matters that Tanner glared at everyone who dared get too close to me. With his piercing eyes and tattoos on display, Tanner was a scary son of a bitch. I would most definitely shit my pants if I was on the receiving end of his glare.
Oh, wait. I had been. Multiple times.
It was a miracle that my pants were shit free.
“Do you do sports?” I asked as we entered the dorms once more. The air conditioning was a welcoming relief. If it wouldn’t have looked too weird, I would’ve starfished in the middle of the hall and soaked in all that AC. Alas, starfishing was generally looked down upon.
“Yes,” Tanner answered gruffly.
When he didn’t elaborate, I elbowed him in the stomach. “It’s rude to stalk me and not allow me to stalk you in return.”
Disbelief was evident on his face. “You want to stalk me?”
Did he…did he sound awed?
That kinky shit got turned on by the thought.
“I mean, I’ve never stalked anyone before, but it could be kind of fun.” I shrugged a shoulder, picking up my pace to get to my room. Breakfast would begin in a few minutes, and I wanted to shower before then. Sweat was the bane of my existence.
“I play lacrosse,” Tanner mumbled at last, and I staggered to a stop, spinning on my heel to face him.
“Seriously?” I asked. He glared.
Yup. There it was. The shit-your-pants glare. Tanner was an expert at wielding it.
“Why do you sound so surprised?”
I shrugged, walking backward down the hallway.
“The bad boy with tattoos. The I-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude. Probably rides a motorcycle.” I considered him blatantly. “I never would’ve expected you to play an organized sport.”
His lip twitched, there and gone too quickly for me to be certain. I was pretty sure he had a unicorn smile—a term I had coined for those assholes who thought they were too good to smile. It was the equivalent of seeing a unicorn.
“You’re wrong,” he said softly. “I drive a Slug Bug.”
I paused mid-step, mouth dropping open.
“You’re totally fucking with me,” I decided, beginning my backward walk again. His face remained serious.
“Am I?”
“You do not drive a Slug Bug.”
Impassively, he added, “It’s yellow.”
“Well, I drive a bike. It’s black…like my soul.” I mimicked his straight-face.
We had finally reached my room, and I turned then so I could open the door. Tanner remained behind me like my shadow. A big, sexy shadow with a big, sexy chicken leg.
Okay. Totally not sexy when you phrased it like that.
My breath left me when I opened up my dorm room door.
It was like one of those post-apocalyptic movies where everything was left behind in the state of an evacuation. My clothes were on the floor and bed, my dresser was tipped over, and my bed had been completely removed. It appeared as if a tornado had destroyed my room.
Or as if an Aiden had ransacked it.
I may be stretching, but I was pretty sure it was the latter. If the black-haired man with piercings and a major attitude problem digging through my box of pictures was any proof.
“What the hell?” I snapped. Aiden looked up from his search, a malevolent smile on his face.
“You’re back,” he said helpfully.
“And you’re in my ro
om.” Apparently, we were just pointing out basic facts today.
Aiden gracefully rose to his full height, dark eyes grazing over the room without sticking on anything in particular.
“Josie’s room,” he corrected.
I snorted. “My room. If you have a problem with it, you can bring it up to the school. Or Kace. He works in the admissions office, doesn’t he?”
Aiden was in my face in a matter of seconds. His hand rested on the wall just beside my head. I knew I shouldn’t have been intimidated by him, but his position was an exact replica of another male. Another…
Crossing my arms over my chest to hide my trembling hands, I met his stare indignantly.
He could try to bully me all he wanted, but I would push back. Always. He shoved me, and I shoved him twice as hard.
“She is fourteen, did you know that?” Aiden leaned even closer, and it took every ounce of willpower not to flinch away. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
“Josie?”
He nodded. “She is fourteen, and she’s gone. Missing. I would do anything to protect the people I love.”
His breath fanned my face, and the smell of peppermints permeated the air.
…and I really shouldn’t be focusing on his toothpaste.
“And is this the part where you threaten me, again? Tell me you’re going to make my life hell, again? Maybe masturbate in a swimming pool of lost dreams and tears?” I sighed. “Because I hate dramatics. Don’t just threaten me. Man up and take some action.”
Aiden chuckled darkly.
“You have a lot of balls,” he murmured. His hand, tantalizingly soft, brushed a strand of my hair behind my ear.
“No, that’s Tanner.”
Yup. Pretty sure Tanner choked on his own spit at that one.
He really had to learn to swallow.
“But you see, I don’t think you’re going to do anything.” I took a step forward until we were chest to chest. Aiden was breathing heavily, each exhale making his body touch my own. “I think you’re all talk, but no action. I think that somewhere in that fucked up brain of yours, you know I have nothing to do with Josie’s disappearance. But you don’t want to admit it, even to yourself. Why? That remains unclear. Is it because you’re not masculine enough to acknowledge you have a problem? Is it because your dick is constantly flaccid? I mean, a limp dick would make anyone angry. Or is the word I’m looking for hangry? Are you hungry, Aiden?”
I tilted my head back, focusing on the silver bulb in his eyebrow instead of his dark eyes. They were black holes, abysses, and I knew I could get lost in them.
“Now get the fuck out of my room.” I punctuated the final statement with a shove to his chest.
Tanner raised his hand. “Do I have to leave?”
“Were you aware of what your idiotic friend was going to do?”
His sheepish smile was answer enough.
“I saw him enter your room after you left,” he admitted. He didn’t sound guilty about keeping it a secret, only that he got caught.
Asshole.
With an imperious set to my chin, I pointed toward the door.
“You have five seconds to get out before I scream,” I said.
Aiden narrowed his eyes into thin slits.
“You wouldn’t dare.” His voice was low. A warning and a promise. A promise for what had yet to be seen.
I raised a brow at him, allowing my lips to curve slightly. “Do you want to take that chance?”
It was a contest of wills as I locked eyes with him. The air crackled with tension until it became almost palpable.
But what he failed to realize was that I was an expert at staring contests. Hadn’t lost in three years.
Bitch had nothing on me.
After what felt like an eternity, Aiden pulled his eyes off of mine with a grunt. Without another word, he stomped out of my room like the drama queen I knew him to be.
“You, too,” I said to Tanner, who stubbornly remained. His full lips pursed.
“I thought we bonded today,” he protested.
“Oh please.” Rolling my eyes, I moved to pick up the clothes that were now on the ground. “You just want to get in my pants…er…leotard.”
Without bothering to acknowledge something we both knew to be true, he said, “I’ve never seen anyone stand up to Aiden like that. Most are too scared of him.”
“He doesn’t scare me,” I blurted, folding up a shirt. The sudden silence was charged with tension.
“And why is that?” Tanner asked tightly. Suspiciously. A voice that hinted he knew exactly what I wanted to remain hidden.
“Because I know evil, I’ve seen evil, and Aiden isn’t it.” I settled on a half-truth. I had seen evil. Seeping over my skin. Contaminating my lungs. Killing me. There was so much evil in the world, so much darkness, that my only option was to find one bright spot and hold onto it. That was Beau. My light.
“But I’m serious, Tanner, get out.”
It must’ve been something in my voice, a quiver perhaps, for Tanner slipped out without confrontation.
Alone at last, I allowed the tears I kept at bay to slide down my cheeks.
What Aiden failed to realize was that he would never be the big, scary monster in my story. I had a monster.
And his name was Dylan.
6
Beau
Bianaca must’ve forgotten that I was a light sleeper. Maybe she did know, at least innately, and chose to ignore it.
Standing in the shower, beneath the blistering water, I allowed my mind to wander back to that moment less than an hour ago. Out of my peripheral in my tiny twin bed, I watched her hand tease her breast, her nipple a beaded bud as she rubbed it into submission. When her hand slid down to her panties—my favorite red ones—I thought I was going to come right then and there. Her tiny gasps. Those breathy moans. That damn mewl.
It hadn’t even bothered me that Tanner had also been privy to her little show. I was too turned-on, too aroused, to think clearly. He could’ve been fucking her, and it would’ve been okay with me.
My hand dropped to my rock-hard cock as I stroked myself. Was it wrong for me to think of my best friend in such a way? Maybe. Possibly.
Perhaps that was why I was so accepting of Tanner being with her. I knew I would never get the chance—she only considered me as a friend—so I had to live vicariously through others.
I pictured her dewy features, heart-shaped face, and golden hair cascading around her shoulders. Her breasts heaving beneath her thin shirt.
Breathing heavily, I exploded, the image of her plump, pink lips around my cock sending me over the edge.
God, I loved her. I didn’t think it was possible to love someone like I loved her. Her smile was capable of lighting even the darkest of days. And when she laughed? I was a goner. From the first moment she teased me, I knew it was her. Only her. I would love her until the day I died.
From afar, of course. I wasn’t stupid enough to believe she loved me back. She had only ever looked at me like she would a friend, a best friend, and I knew she needed my friendship more than she needed a boyfriend. I could be what she needed, though, even if it killed me.
I was dying, ever so slowly. But it was worth it. To be a part of her life…I could want for nothing.
Turning off the shower, I toweled myself off and dressed in the standard school uniform. The shirt clung to my muscles, and I purposefully left the top few buttons undone. I knew that she had a strange fascination with my skin. Don’t ask me why.
Quickly, I raked my fingers through my wet blond hair and stepped into the hallway from the community men showers.
I let out a gasp when I ran into a familiar figure.
Mary…or something. I couldn’t recall her name. She was pretty in an elfin sort of way with light blond hair, as thin and as straight as golden wheat, and large eyes.
“Beau!” she said cheerfully, placing a hand on my arm. I tried not to flinch at the initiation of contact.
I smiled and nodded at her in greeting.
She was pretty enough, I would admit, and I would also admit that I would’ve fucked the shit out of her only a year before. Nothing romantic, but in a desperate attempt to get over my unreciprocated feelings for B.
And then I decided—fuck it. It wasn’t fair to these girls, and it sure as hell wasn’t fair to me. Since I came to that conclusion, I had turned into a damn monk.
“How’s your room? Your roommate? Your roommate is Tanner, correct?” Her voice took on a wistful quality when she said his name. “Have you met his other friends yet? Aiden and Kace?”
Her cheeks heated, and I tried to smother the snort that threatened to escape. No doubt, she was thinking about a big-ass orgy with the three of them and her in the middle. I got it. I did.
The dudes were hot. If I wasn’t desperately in love with B, I might’ve even propositioned them. I wasn’t gay or anything, but I liked sex. A lot. Boys. Girls. It didn’t matter to me…anything to help me take the edge off.
Poor Mary…Marie…failed to realize that they had their sights set on another girl. My girl. I wasn’t sure the guys had even realized it as of yet.
Smiling in what I hoped wasn’t a condescending manner—I didn’t want to be a dick—I moved to walk past her. Either she was oblivious and didn’t get my hint, or she was persistent.
“My room is a few doors down,” she said chirpily. I smiled once again and nodded. Her eyes heated at my acknowledgment, and I felt a pang of guilt. She would expect me to come visit her, would hold onto that hope, and would be disappointed when her fantasies never came to be.
Finally—finally—I stopped in front of B’s room, hand tightening on the doorknob.
“Is this your room?” she asked, fluttering her lashes in what she probably suspected was a seductive manner. Frankly, she looked as if she was seizing.
Once again, I gifted her with my customary nod and smile. Fake as shit. Only someone who truly knew me would note the tightening of my eyes and the smile that doubled as a grimace. I had learned how to articulate every word through my features, how to tell a story through look alone. However, I also learned how to blank my expression until my true emotions were unrecognizable. Unattainable, as B once told me. I hid behind these impenetrable walls that not even cannons could conquer.
