fourteen
#1 at the Box Office:Mortal Kombat: Annihilation
Vivienne Delacroix
“Remind me again why I have to go to this thing?” I ask, checking my reflection in the mirror at the end of the hallway.
“Because that’s what our girls do,” Rob says, flipping on the light so I can see myself better. “At least you can bring an umbrella.”
“And a raincoat,” Dad says, taking mine off the hanger in the coat closet and handing it to me while Mom slips into hers.
My parents look happy enough from the outside. They make time to go to the football games, my violin recitals, and all the founding family traditions. Mom goes to the dinners for Dad’s firm, and he attends her church functions and helps her pick out tile for the backsplash for the kitchen or curtains for the living room when she remodels. But anyone living under the same roof as them can tell that their marriage is nothing more than a ring and a piece of paper.
“You sure they won’t cancel the game?” I ask as a crack of thunder sounds outside.
“If the roads are fine, the field is fine,” Rob says. “Coach Carr’s motto.”
“I feel bad for y’all,” I say, pulling the hood up before zipping up. “I can’t imagine having to run around in this for two hours.”
Dad hands me an umbrella. “They’re used to it. Plus, all the running keeps you warm. You love football enough, you’ll play in anything.”
“If you say so,” I answer.
Dad would know, though I’m not sure which he loved more—playing football in high school or talking about his glory days of playing football in high school. To be fair, he’s a bit of a fanatic. Not only does he never miss one of Rob’s games on Friday, but he also watches every single Razorback football game on Saturday and a different NFL game every Sunday. Which explains why he’s crazy enough to voluntarily attend a game in the pouring rain with temperatures hovering in the mid-thirties.
We turn toward the door, but Robert stops, his hand on the latch. “Hey. I know you’re there for Sebastian, but don’t forget to cheer for your brother too.”
“Shut up,” I say, nudging his chest with my shoulder. “You know I’ll always be your biggest fan. And I don’t really have it in me to be the biggest fan of two egos the size of yours.”
Rob grins and throws an arm around me, steering us out the side door into the garage. The tall, ornately carved wooden front doors are entirely for show. I’d forget they existed if not for the occasional important guest who comes through them. Friends and family use the door to the garage.
“You going to an afterparty?” I ask, stopping once we’re on the polished concrete floor of the six-car garage.
“Always, little sis,” Rob says, swinging open the door of his Lambo with a haughty grin.
“Should I ride with you?” I ask. “Sebastian can drive me home, so people see us leaving together.”
“Sebastian doesn’t have a car,” he says. “And there’s no way in hell you’re leaving with him, so hop in. That way I’ll know exactly who you’re leaving with and what time you get home.”
“You’re worse than our parents,” I say, rolling my eyes.
At the far end of the garage, Dad opens Mom’s door and dutifully helps her into his Mercedes, neither of them making eye contact. I climb in with Rob, because having an overprotective brother isn’t the worst thing a girl can have.
He pulls out of the garage into the icy November drizzle. It’s only six, but it’s already pitch dark out. “Look, I’m okay with you pretending to be with Sebastian, but if he so much as lays a finger on you, I swear…”
“He hasn’t,” I assure him, but my heart does a little skip when I remember the way he kissed me at his locker that day I got the makeover. We flirt our way through tutoring every day, but nothing physical has happened since I told him he couldn’t kiss me, almost a month ago. I can’t quite remember why I told him that. Just thinking about all the close calls, when he touches my face and his green apple eyes latch onto mine, and my heart stops beating as I pray he’ll break our rules, has me seething with frustration.
“Good,” Robert says. “He’s not the kind of guy you need to get mixed up with. Trust me on that one.”
“He’s good enough to be your friend,” I point out.
“My friend,” Rob says. “Exactly. He’s a good friend. But I know how girls get when it comes to him, and I don’t want to see you go there. You said this was just pretend.”
“It is,” I insist.
“You don’t know him like I do, that’s all,” he says. “He’s not the kind of guy my sister needs to be messing around with.”
“You don’t have to worry,” I promise him. “I don’t think I’m his type anyway.”
Rob grunts in response, and I’m not sure whether I’m more annoyed at him for not contradicting me, or at myself for wanting him to so badly.
We get to the game a few minutes later, and Rob turns off the engine.
“Just be careful,” he says. “I wouldn’t want to have to kick Sebastian’s ass. He’s my friend. And more than that, I wouldn’t want my baby sis getting hurt.”
“I’m your big sister,” I point out, throwing open the door. “And I’m fine, Rob. Really. Believe it or not, I can handle myself, and I can probably handle Sebastian Swift better than you can.”
I climb out of the car, and we head for the field. Rob splits off with a wave, and I call good luck to him before making my way into the stands. The game is a cold, miserable affair, which means only family and die-hard fans are in attendance. Even with a raincoat and an umbrella, by the end of the game, my jeans are soaked through and I’m freezing my ass off. I feel bad for the players, who spend the second half engaged in what can only be described as mud wrestling. By the time the final seconds tick down, I can say with complete conviction that I don’t think I’ve been missing out on anything by not being a football fan.
Not that I skip all the games. I come to the important ones with my parents, but Robert has given me full permission to skip any games played in nasty weather, away games, and those against unevenly matched opponents. I may want to support my brother, but football isn’t really my thing, and he knows that. He doesn’t come to any of my events, so it wouldn’t be fair to expect me to come to his. After he told me he felt sorry for me sitting with our parents “like a loser with no friends,” I felt justified in hanging out at home with Chaz and his friends instead of enduring this discomfort.
But Sebastian has played his role beautifully, and coming to the game is the least I can do. Technically, this is all just part of my plan to show everyone that Sebastian Swift is smitten with me. He’s getting so little out of it I’d feel guilty if he weren’t such an insufferable ass ninety percent of the time. I only gave him a suggestive picture with cleavage and a sexy smile because I’m afraid he’s going to turn around and try to blackmail me into sleeping with him if I give him the kind of photo he asked for. I’ve known him for a few years now, and I just don’t believe he’d do something out of the kindness of his heart—especially not for a nerd he used to bully for no other reason than that his social status allowed him to.
I wait around in the parking lot with some other fans until the team comes out, all of them looking a bit worse for the wear after the game. I make my way over to Rob and Sebastian, who came out with a few other players.
“Aww, don’t you look cute as hell?” Sebastian says, tugging at the hood of my raincoat. The rain has mostly stopped, only spitting a few drops now and then, but the jacket is still keeping me warm.
“Come on,” Rob says. “I’ll give y’all a lift to the party. I’m ready to get toasted after that game.”
“Nah, we’ll ride with Billy,” Sebastian says, sliding an arm around me. “Won’t we, babe?”
Robert frowns, but it would look funny to the other guys if he insisted I couldn’t ride with my boyfriend, so I give him a hard look. Finally he shrugs. “Okay, but come find me when you get there. And let me know when you’re ready to bounce. I’m not letting his drunk ass drive you home.”
“I’m freezing my nads off,” Billy says. “If you’re riding with me, let’s go.”
He jogs toward his truck, and Sebastian pulls me after him. On the way, we pick up about half a dozen more people, who all somehow manage to squeeze into Billy’s Lariat. Sebastian pulls me into his lap, and Billy turns the defrost on full blast to clear the steam fogging the windshield from having so many people in the cab at once.
“Where to, captain?” he asks.
“Aren’t we going to the party?” I ask, twisting around.
Sebastian’s arms tighten in a reassuring squeeze. “Yeah, let’s check out the party first, and then we can slip away for a little fun of our own.”
As the truck lumbers along, Sebastian’s icy hand slips under the edge of my raincoat and up my leg, lodging between my thighs. “Quit,” I hiss.
He just chuckles and nudges back the hood of my raincoat with his chin so he can rub his stubble against my cheek. “Just warming my hands, Princess.”
He gives a little squeeze, and I see stars. My whole body is tingling with his nearness, even with so many people around us. I’m aware of every bump that jostles our bodies together, the heat of his thighs under mine, the coldness of his fingers seeping through my jeans and stealing my warmth. I find myself shamelessly searching for signs that it’s making him as hot as me, squirming a little with each turn and bump, trying to feel if he’s hard.
No, trying to make him hard.
Finally he buries his face in my neck and nips at my skin. “If you keep that up, I’m going to pull down your pants and bury my dick in you right now,” he warns, pushing his hips up against mine.
A thrill of heat pulses between my legs at the thought.
“Quit,” I protest again, elbowing him.
He sucks my earlobe between his teeth, then skims his tongue along the edge. “Wear a skirt next time so I can finger your cunt on the car ride,” he murmurs.
I gasp as more arousal pools in my core at the thought.
“You like that?” Sebastian whispers, squeezing gently between my thighs.
I draw a shuddering breath, my knees opening. I’ve never considered doing anything in public, but the idea of doing it in a car always turned me on. Chaz was vehemently opposed, so it never happened, and I never thought much further than that. Maybe the danger of getting caught—the very thing that made him reject the idea—was part of the appeal for me. I never thought of myself as wild or even adventurous in bed, but picturing Sebastian’s hand sneaking up my skirt while his friends are all around us arouses me to an embarrassing degree.
“Y’all get a room,” says Lola, a cheerleader who ended up beside us, wedged into the bitch seat. “Shit, Sebastian. You were already late to the game because y’all were fucking. You can’t wait ten minutes to get your dick in her again?”
“Again?” I ask, trying to push Sebastian’s hand from between my thighs without being blatantly obvious. “We haven’t even slept together.”
“Sure,” Lola says. “And I’m a virgin like Madonna.”
A handful of guys in the back seat howl with laughter at that. I’m seething mad. Did he tell them I already gave it up? Or was he with some other girl before the game?
Technically, I told him that was allowed, but he’s not being very careful about it if he was late to the game because of her. When I push with my hips, he pushes back against my center with his fingers, massaging me while I squirm.
“You told them we slept together?” I hiss.
“I didn’t say a word, Princess,” he drawls aloud, continuing to work me with his fingers. “A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”
“Then you better start telling,” says Billy. “’Cause we all know you ain’t no gentleman.”
The others hoot with laughter, but I’m burning with rage. “Tell them we’re not sleeping together,” I grit out.
“They’ll believe what they want to believe,” he protests through his laughter. “I can’t help it. My reputation precedes me. Don’t let it bother you, Princess.”
I throw my elbow back, catching him in the ribs. “Tell them.”
“If it bothers you, you tell ‘em.”
I don’t even know why it bothers me so much. Normally, I don’t really care what they think of me. He and his friends have been giving us shit for years, and it’s never mattered to me. Chaz is the one who would get all worked up about it, while I shrugged it off because I knew their opinions of me didn’t affect me.
But if I’m dating Sebastian, then I care what his friends think of me. I want them to see me as good enough for him, to believe that I can be one of them.
I stop myself right there.
I’m not dating Sebastian. His friends’ opinions still don’t affect me. So why do I suddenly care so much if they think I’m worthy of him?