by Celeste, B.
The tip of his tongue runs across his bottom lip as he gets even closer. His body heat wraps around me like a weighted blanket that holds me down. Except the anxiety of the truth heightens instead of eases.
A tear slips down my cheek. “Because I know that I am so fucking stupid for loving you despite it all.”
The crack of my voice ends my rant because I know I won’t be able to keep talking before I break. Then the only person able to collect the pieces is a man far more broken than me.
A married man.
A former friend.
The end of me.
His hand finds my face, but I find the energy to brush it off. “Do you mean that?”
I part my lips but only manage to shake my head, backing away in retreat. If there was a white flag, I’d wave it. I’d do anything to take back those words and leave them buried inside to suffocate me like they have for over nine years.
A fucking decade I’ve lied to myself.
I’ve denied myself the truth.
For what? For this? For him? I don’t get a chance to ask because we’re suddenly in the same embrace that I’ve told myself I’m not allowed to be in—the same situation I’ve insisted on pretending I didn’t want.
But I did.
And I do.
And I hate myself more for it than I do him.
When he kisses me, it’s cemented.
We’re going to hell.
Chapter Twenty-One
Kinley / 17
The auditorium is full for the last night of the play, making a permanent smile plaster my face. Closing the corner of the curtain I’m peeking through, I step back into the backstage mayhem as everyone finishes dressing and practicing before it starts in twenty minutes.
Diane, the senior in charge of everything, stops in front of me red-faced and out of breath. She tries speaking but gets nothing out except a raspy breath. The hand clenching her clipboard that people make fun of her for shoots up, her pointer finger gesturing for me to give her a minute to collect herself.
Blinking as she bends over and breathes heavily for a solid fifteen seconds, I glance around looking for Corbin’s familiar face. Turns out, so is Diane.
“Where is he?”
“Uh…”
Her eyes widen in horror. “Kinley, where is our leading role? You’re always together. You have to know where your boyfriend is.”
I eye the clock. Fifteen minutes until showtime. “I’m not sure?” Wincing when she makes a startled noise, I add, “I’m sure he’s around here somewhere. He was supposed to be back an hour and a half ago—”
She chokes out, “Back?”
Now my nerves are rising. “Everyone knows he started rehearsals for the movie he’s in. He goes to the capital region to run lines with everyone before they start shooting next week. He goes a few times a week after school. I’m sure—”
Diane’s eyes grow dark. “He signed up for this first! He can’t just bail on the last night. What’s wrong with him?”
My throat dries. He wouldn’t bail on it but telling her wouldn’t make much of a difference when she’s in freak out mode. I do my best to smile reassuringly, but she storms off yelling for the understudy whose name I don’t recognize.
Pulling out my phone, I shoot Corbin a text asking where he is. He kissed me goodbye before leaving last period and said he had a busy afternoon. He made it sound like he’d be back though, and I believe it.
I wait for a response.
When a few minutes go by, everyone in the back starts running around and trying their best to prepare the new lead. I gnaw on my thumbnail and stare between my message app and the time in the righthand corner of my screen.
“Anything?” Diana asks as she flies past me.
All I can do is shake my head.
Corbin wouldn’t miss tonight. I know it.
He promised.
When I step down from the stage to search the crowd for Zach, who I bribed to come see the last performance in trade of attending his last game, I spot him with a few of his teammates. My feet guide me past peers and families who I try to smile to and wave at like I’m not having a tiny panic attack.
Zach stands up and pulls me in for a tight hug as soon as I get to the end seat he claimed. I manage to hug him back and pull away with a smile that may not look totally pathetic.
“Happy birthday, Kinley.”
I roll my eyes. “You already said that today. Three times. And you bought me a Pop Tart from the vending machine.”
It was stale, but the thought counted.
He winks. “Just making sure everyone knows. Plus, you hated that Pop Tart. You should have seen your face after the first bite.”
Blushing, I brush it off. “Anyway, have you heard from Corbin? Diane is about to have a heart attack because he’s not here yet.”
He pulls his phone out and glances at it quick. “He hasn’t texted me. I wouldn’t worry about it, Kin. You know he’ll pull through.”
My head nods, but I feel a bit of doubt creep into the cracks of my conscious. Guilt follows it, gluing the spaces closed as I wave at him and his buddies. They all start singing happy birthday obnoxiously loud, causing a few confused audience members to join in.
Rushing backstage while they laugh and sing, I do another search of the mass of people lining up and flattening their costumes into perfection. Diane eyes me but must see the helplessness on my face because she focuses on the guy in Corbin’s usual costume.
I look at my phone and then shoot him another text, wondering if he’s busy driving and unable to text me back. He told me he’d be back by six. It’s going on seven now. A hundred different reasons swirl in my head as to why he isn’t here. An accident. A blown tire. Maybe he got tied up with the cast.
Someone yells a five-minute warning.
The buzz among the cast as they ask about Corbin causes Diane to throw her hands up and storm away. The teacher in charge of Drama Club assures everyone that Peter, the understudy, will fill in for Corbin for this performance.
Frowning, I peer back out at the crowd and catch Zach’s eye. I shake my head and he does the same and lifts his hands as if to tell me he’s sorry for not knowing either. He mouths something but I can’t figure out what. Drawing back, I dial Corbin’s number and listen to it ring and ring and ring.
It goes to voicemail.
Swallowing, I take a deep breath and remember what he told me at lunch. He would take me out for my birthday after the play. My parents weren’t very happy about how late that’d be, but he promised to have me back by eleven thirty. Surprisingly, Gavin got them to agree.
When Zach ran up to me as soon as we got to school and wished me a happy seventeenth birthday, Corbin froze up but smiled and squeezed my hand. It made me wonder if he’d forgotten. As he walked me to homeroom like usual, he told me he had my presents at his house that he’d give me when he took me out to celebrate.
I don’t blame him for being scatter brained. He’s been busy with the play and now the movie, on top of keeping up with school. I help him with homework when we hang out in his rare free time because his mother insisted she’d pull the plug on the movie for him as his legal guardian who signed the contract too. I know how much that would devastate Corbin, so I give him the benefit of the doubt.
When the cast does their normal chant and well wishes for a good play, I defeatedly find my seat in the front row. My phone stays on my lap, screen up, in case he finally gets back to me.
But when the play gets to intermission, there’s still nothing to get my hopes up that he’ll even make it at all. When I scroll through different social media apps as I wait for the play to continue, I notice Corbin’s familiar face with a few others I only recognize because he showed me them in excitement. They’re cast members of the movie—some seasoned, some new like him.
It was from thirty minutes ago. They’re out to eat. Happy. Laughing.
Standing up and grabbing my coat, I walk up to where Zach’s sitting. “I’m
heading out. He’s not coming.”
He sits up straighter. “You heard from him? What’s the deal?”
I tap a few buttons and turn the screen toward him to see the picture. “The good news is, he’s perfectly fine.”
He winces. “Shit. Need a ride?”
I was going to call Gavin but… “Sure. If you don’t mind. I really need to get someone to take me to my driver’s test so I can finally get my license. I’ll have to bribe my brother to do it.”
He smacks his friends and says we’re leaving, then grabs his things and gestures for me to head toward the back doors. “You okay?”
Shrugging, I give him an unsure smile. “I will be. It’s got to be hard for him.”
His scoff has me slowing my steps to look at him. “Yeah, dude looked like he’s having a miserable time right now.”
I sigh. “I meant balancing everything. He’s been stressed. His grades haven’t been great, so he’s trying to get them up that way his mom won’t pull him out of the movie—”
“Maybe she should.”
My brows furrow. “Should what?”
“Maybe he should quit the movie then.”
My head shake is genuine. “He’s really good, Zach. What he did tonight sucks for everyone in that auditorium, but you should see him get into character. He loves working on the movie. You can tell he’s meant for it.”
“What about you?”
I don’t say anything.
The cold air hits my face when we swing the doors open and start toward the packed parking lot. “I’m okay. Really. We sort of talked about this kind of thing. He told me he didn’t want me thinking I was being ignored.”
Now he’s silent.
“He’s not ignoring me,” I defend. I think about the unanswered texts and calls, clicking my tongue and trying to push the thought away. “I want him to be happy and act.”
“Whatever,” he grumbles, pulling out his keys and unlocking his car. The blue sedan lights up in the middle of the lot. “You’re my friend, Kinley. I just want to make sure you’re okay. We could go do something if you want. Get food.”
Disappointment settles over me. “I think I’ll just head home and get ahead on some homework. Maybe get some writing done.”
When we’re buckled in, he shifts his body toward me and studies me skeptically. “You’re a good person, you know that? Don’t let that stop you from raising hell when it’s necessary.”
I make a face. “It isn’t, though.”
His eyes tell me, isn’t it?
There’s something hitting my window. When I peel myself up from my toasty sheets, I squint at the time on my alarm and then faceplant back into unconsciousness. Except something hard hits my window again.
Nearly falling off the bed when my foot gets caught in the throw blanket, I stumble over to the window in question and move the curtain slightly to see what’s going on. The streetlight outside illuminates the wet pavement from a steady rain that must have started after I fell asleep around nine.
Mom and Dad thought my plans were cancelled because I was sick. My sluggishness certainly helped my case. Instead of staying up and torturing myself with the story I'm writing about Ryker and Beck, I turned off my phone and slid into bed. I fell asleep watching a documentary on National Geographic.
There’s just enough light to see Corbin standing below. He waves his phone around and points to it. I debate on being petty and closing the curtain and curling back in bed. Instead, I turn my phone on and notice the slew of texts and missed calls and voicemails all from him.
His name pops up on the screen again in an oncoming call. My finger hovers over the red decline button, but I want to hear what his excuse is.
“I’m an asshole,” he says quickly.
No argument there.
“I swear I didn’t forget,” he continues. “I kept telling them I had to go, but the entire cast got invited out to get to know each other better since we’re going to start filming next week. They reserved a table at some fancy restaurant, and I didn’t think I could say no. I’m the youngest and don’t want them thinking I have any say when I know I don’t.”
He speaks so rapidly that he has to suck in deep breath when he’s finished. I think about what he says and know it’s reasonable. If I were in his shoes I wouldn’t want to say no either. Plus, it’s good to create a relationship with co-workers to some degree.
“I didn’t forget. Promise.”
The small breath I inhale eases some of the strain on my lungs. “I understand. But I’m not the only one who you need to apologize to.”
His voice is quiet. “I know. Do your parents hate me? They have a right to. Mom told me I’d need to kiss a lot of ass to make this up to you, and—”
“Stop. They think I’m sick.”
“They do?”
A tiny smile appears on my face that I’m glad he can’t see. “I mean, Gavin has always hated you if that makes a difference…”
He chuckles. “He really does, huh? Hey, I still need to give you your presents. I forgot to put them in my backpack before I left the house, so I couldn’t slide them into your locker at school like I planned.”
My inner cheek is sucked in by my teeth as I glance at him standing outside. “Can we have a redo? Maybe tomorrow?”
I can’t see his smile, but I hear it in the relieved answer he gives me. “I’d love that, Little Bird. Let me make it up to you. I’ll pick you up at noon, okay? There will be sugar, presents, and a huge meal that we’ll both regret later. I won’t even bring up Stephen King.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
Now his laugh is loud and normal, and whatever weirdness was between us is long gone. I move the curtain fully and wiggle my fingers at him before saying goodnight.
When I hang up, a voice clears behind me. Turning around, I see Gavin in his usual black sweatpants and gray tee leaning his shoulder against my doorjamb.
“What are you doing up?” I put my phone back down on the nightstand and settle onto the bed, tucking my feet under the comforter.
“I’m glad I moved the spare key.”
My eyes widen. “You really did that?”
His eyes roll like I’m being ridiculous for doubting him. “I wasn’t going to let some dude wander into my little sister’s room anytime he wanted. I’m just glad he didn’t try scaling the tree. Then I’d really have to kick his ass.”
I fluff my pillow and rest back. “You wouldn’t do that. I like to think you’re a giant teddy bear under all those muscles.”
He glares like I offended him. “Whatever. Don’t wake me up again. And next time the dickhead bails on you, break up with him.”
My lips part. “How did you—”
He backs up and lifts his hands. “It’s a small town, Little Bird. We know everything if we ask the right person.”
I cross my arms on my chest and pout while he shoots me a wave over his shoulder and wanders back down the hall.
When I pick up my phone, I see a text from Corbin. It’s a picture of two wrapped presents—one large and one small. Both with the same silver bow that was on the gift he gave me for Christmas. The paper is blue though, my favorite color. Bright and not dull.
I cuddle into my bed and pull the blanket over me, falling asleep with a smile on my face despite the strangest feeling settling into my stomach.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Corbin / Present
Our mouths slant over each other’s as our tongues battle it out with demanding strokes and breaths. Both my palms hold her face to me like if I let go she’ll come to her senses and stop this. It would be the right, rational thing to do.
I don’t want to be rational.
Instead, we keep kissing and kissing and breathing each other in like it’s our only source of oxygen. Her body pressed against mine, cocooned in my warmth and hardness, makes me want more.
More her.
More this.
More everything.
Bac
king her up until her ass meets the small table off to the side, I grab her hips and lift her onto it. Her thighs part for me to step between them, our tongues never stopping the dance they’re doing. As soon as I’m nestled right where I want to be, I pull her forward so she’s on the edge of the wood beneath her. Instinctively, her legs go to either side of my hips and hug them to keep her balanced.
My hands trail down her sides as my mouth travels across her jaw, leaving little bite marks along the way. She catches her breath and writhes as I draw her shirt up and peel it off her completely revealing flawless skin and pert breasts.
“Fuck, baby.” My head dips to take one of the hardened buds of her nipples into my mouth and suckle as she bucks forward. Back arching until her chest presses into my face, I lick and suck and nip until her fingers go to my hair and tug hard.
Ignoring her panted pleas, I move to the other nipple and repeat the same movements until she pushes me back. Stumbling, I watch her slide off the table and drop to her knees and fumble with the belt around my waist.
“Kin—” Anything I’m about to say is cut short by the scratchy denim against my thighs as she takes me out and blows on the tip of my engorged head.
I’m choking on air when her mouth wraps around me and a satisfied moan escapes her and vibrates over my cock. My hand goes to the back of her head, fingers weaving into her hair as she takes me in, inch by inch. Her tongue grazes the underside of my length and adds a torturous pressure just below my tip that has me twitching and hardening like steel.
When I cast my eyes downward, I see nothing but chestnut waves bobbing to a rhythm that plays me until my hips meet her every time. My fingers tighten and pull the silky strands in my grasp, causing her to groan again with me deep in her throat.
She withdraws and lets her tongue cast down the side of my cock and back up until her lips wrap around just my head again, putting pressure just below the tip with her lips while swiping her tongue across the precum dripping from me.
