Chapter 10 #2
“Yeah, I think I do.” Asher shrugged and scanned around us, giving me a break from his obnoxiously piercing gaze. “My cousin Trev plays soccer with the twins. Did you know?”
I shook my head. “How many cousins do you have, man?”
Asher snorted a laugh. “Hell if I know. I swear every year Momma introduces me to more of ’em.”
“Well, that’s cool. Trev any good?”
“Nah.” He turned on his heels to fully face me.
“Wasn’t my point, though. I’ve been to a few soccer games and practices because of Trev.
I probably don’t know the twins any more than anyone else, but I’m a people watcher, you know?
I think that’s because of my siblings.” He chuckled.
“I swear they multiply like my cousins.”
“Your point, Asher?”
“Right, my point. I notice things.” He kept his voice low and his features nondescript as he said, “It’s really okay, you know? You glaring at him like that.” He smirked, holding my gaze. “He’s doing it again too.”
Uh, come again?
My mind sputtered as I replayed those words. Asher moved to Jamie’s side, but I stared after him, trying to make his comment mean something else and begging it not to in the same breath.
He was … Jack was …
Don’t look. Don’t look.
I looked.
Across the crackling flames flicking sparks into the sky stood the guy who’d taken over parts of my brain I’d likely never regain. He wouldn’t tell me what he wanted with them, what he’d do with them, but he controlled them nonetheless.
Jack stared. Arms by his side, face tilted down enough he had to peek through his long bangs.
I didn’t move, didn’t turn away, didn’t breathe.
What did his eyes say? What did I want to hear?
The air around me grew hot, and as much as I wanted to back away from the fire, from the heat of Jack’s gaze, I couldn’t.
He had me trapped, frozen in the unknown of what this was, what I wanted this to be.
His attention wasn’t unwanted or uncomfortable. My mind couldn’t put together any words of hate to throw at him, but it also couldn’t decide what it wanted, what this next step should be.
A nip of pain, like a needle poking the inside of my bicep, interrupted thoughts running through my mind faster than falling sand.
Instinctively, I pulled my arm tightly into my side to protect it as I muttered, “Ow.”
“Well, I tried to get your attention, and you ignored me,” Sasha said from beside me.
“Didn’t mean you had to pinch the tar outta me.” Jack’s mouth thinned into a tight line before he turned away, and only then did I bow my head to Sasha. “What do you want?”
Her expression changed with a slow blink from irritated to flirty. “You ready to go, babe?”
“Yeah,” I choked out. I needed to get away, gain some distance and sort this shit out.
Sasha led the way to my truck, and it wasn’t until she smoothed her hand up my leg that I noticed how eager she was for this.
She wanted to hook up. My dick thickened as she rubbed across it, confused and running on fumes from staring at a certain someone all night.
I moved her hand, lying to her that it would be unsafe to get distracted while driving when I just wanted to tell her no.
“Daddy’s church,” Sasha purred. She loved getting a little dirty at church, and I couldn’t say why I pulled into the darkened lot behind the small chapel. Habit? Submission? Someone was giving me direction, and I was sorely in need of being told what the hell was going on with me.
Jackaddict? Really? Away from his pull, I wasn’t so sure.
As soon as I engaged the emergency brake, Sasha launched at me, raking her nails into my hair as she smacked her soft lips on mine.
“Wait—” Nope. I’d have to be quicker than that.
“Cal, oh God, you feel so good,” she said, letting me breathe after a long kiss.
I stationed my hold on her hips, unsure if I wanted to keep her close or push her off.
Come the fuck on, I scolded myself. Make up your mind. Do you want this?
She invaded my mouth with her tongue and the sweet taste of watermelon, moaning loudly, completely over-the-top. This should be nice. This was familiar. Sasha crawled her small body into my seat and straddled my lap, moving her hips in an imitation of sex against my confused-as-fuck hard-on.
Jesus. Sasha wasn’t the one I wanted. The one I wanted to lose myself in.
This wasn’t right.
“Sasha—” I said, rearing back as far as the seat would allow, but not nearly far enough. She tangled her arms around my neck, latching on, plastering herself to me.
“Just … Let me—”
“Shut up and kiss me,” she interrupted.
I moved my hands to her arms, ready to tug them loose, but she clawed her nails into my hair and gripped a fistful.
What the fuck should I do? She had me covered like stink on shit. The hand not in my hair shoved into my jeans and circled my shaft.
“Touch me,” she moaned.
Fuck! “Sasha— Stop—” Every word was interrupted with her wet lips and a sloppy kiss.
I cringed. This didn’t feel good. My stomach rolled.
“D-don’t …” I managed to stutter, mind and heart going a hundred miles per hour, veering dangerously off course when she reached farther and clutched my balls. I coughed, hard and wet, pain choking me and blurring my vision.
“No—mmph.” I reached for her wrist. “Sasha, no,” I said and circled the breakable bones.
God, help me.
What happened next was an uncoordinated mix of yanking and slapping, of screeching and clawing. I didn’t want to hurt her, but how could I stop her? She was determined, her touch multiplying. I freed myself from one finger, and two more dug into my skin.
“Ow, fuck—” I’d have to survey the damage later.
Smack!
“What the hell is this?” Sasha seethed from her place on my lap, but at least her hands weren’t on me. No, she rubbed one of her wrists while my cheek stung like a bitch.
“Dammit, why the hell’d you slap me?”
“Why’d you break my wrist?”
“I didn’t—” Shame and doubt cut me off. Had I hurt her badly? Jesus, why couldn’t I handle her better? “Get off,” I muttered.
She did, thankfully, no longer babying her wrist but complaining the entire time. “You’ve got some nerve, Calvin Winters. I should tell my daddy on you.”
I rubbed a hand down my face. “Sorry, Sasha. I’m just not …” I trailed off, not really knowing what to say. I wasn’t into it, wasn’t into her, wasn’t into this relationship.
“You’re sorry? For what? Ain’t you a bit young for ED?”
“That’s not what—”
“I can’t believe this. What is your problem, Cal? You’ve been acting like a baby ever since your parents split. That was last year. Get over it.”
“Sorry,” I said again. The crash after an adrenaline spike was no joke. Exhaustion clouded my better sense, my logical thinking, and any coherent verbalization to defend or explain myself.
“Take me back to the party. I don’t even want to be around you right now.”
I shook my head, digging deep for the words to break up with her, to end this, but all I managed was a defeated nod. The drive back was too long when I only wanted to crawl into bed and lick my wounds, and not nearly long enough to put myself together, to finally do it, say it, mean it.
When I parked, Sasha turned in her seat and huffed. “That it? You just take me back? You don’t have anything to say to me? Apologize for how you treated me?”
How I treated … “Sasha.” I scratched my scalp, then let my hands drop and gripped my knees. “We should break up.”
For a long moment, I wasn’t sure if I’d said that out loud or not. She didn’t reply. When I finally turned her way, she struck, slapping and pinching and growling.
“The hell we should, Calvin Winters. You don’t get to break up with me.”
“Stop it,” I shouted, moving my arms like a windmill, trying to shield myself.
“Homecoming is next week! You can’t break up with me.” With that, she opened the door of the truck as if her last words, her refusal, was enough to make it not so. “This ain’t over.”
“Yes, it is,” I yelled as she slammed the door. Fuck.