Chapter 14 Evan
EVAN
Nate’s fucking insatiable. He barely let me sleep last night and I woke up this morning to his hand stroking my belly.
The second he realized I was awake, that hand slid lower while he seemed to be doing his best to give me a hickey on the back of my neck.
When I asked him what he was doing, he just snickered and said, “You can tell people it’s a bruise. ”
Yeah okay, not everyone lives in Na?ve-Land. I wanted to say. But then I remembered him asking me if he was stupid, and stopped myself.
After he finally lets me out of bed and into the shower—with him, obviously—we eat a good portion of the fancy food in his fridge and Nate makes coffee in some weirdly complicated coffee machine with Italian words all over it.
He keeps grinning at me and it’s weirdly contagious.
For a second, I can forget the fact I’m in Nate’s parents’ mansion and that I definitely don’t belong here.
If they knew, they’d probably have me arrested or set the dogs on me or something.
When I look up, Nate’s frowning at me. “What’s up?”
I rub the back of my neck, embarrassed he clocked me so fast. “Does your stepdad have dogs?”
“No, why?”
“No reason.”
He hums to himself while he operates the coffee machine in his grey sweats.
The fabric hugs his nicely toned ass. He was bullshitting me when he said tennis players were skinny nerds.
Nate, at least, has the body of those hockey players Stacie’s always watching on YouTube. “What are you doing today?”
“I’ve got a shift later.”
His head pops up from the machine, a big smile on his face. “So you’re free?”
Shit. No, I should go and see my guy, get more weed to sell. Bill day is coming up fast. I hesitate, trying to come up with a good excuse.
He’s giving me those puppy dog eyes.
“My next match in the Ivy’s coming up,” he says like he knows I’m trying to find a way to say no. “I thought maybe you could help me train.”
“Why me? Don’t you have teammates for that?”
He shrugs. “I’m not really on good terms with my frat president right now, and he’s also captain of the tennis team.”
“What happened?”
He shrugs. “Nothing. He can just be a lot sometimes.” He forces a smile and pulls me in by the waistband of my pants. “And anyway, I’d rather spend time with you. I thought we could go for a run on the beach.”
“I don’t run.”
He snorts. “So how are you so in shape?” His eyes roam over my body and I almost fucking blush.
“I lift weights. I don’t run.”
“You’re lucky, you must have a good metabolism. I start to get a muffin top if I eat too much pizza and don’t do enough cardio.”
My heart sinks. I pull him in tighter and grip his hips. “So fucking what? Get a muffin top.”
He laughs, burying his face against my neck. Fucking hell. That fresh sweat smell drives me crazy.
“I’ll watch you run on the beach, if that helps?”
His head snaps up. “Really?”
“Yeah, really. But only for an hour or so. There’s some shit I have to do today.”
He frowns. “You’re not going to see those guys who gave you a black eye, are you?” His gaze strays to the fading bruise under my right eye. The bridge of my nose still hurts a bit, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.
“No. It’s something else. And I haven’t got a black eye.”
He raises one eyebrow. “Like what?”
I loosen my grip on him and step back. “Nothing.”
“Is it another guy?”
“What? Fuck. No, obviously not.”
He looks sad now. Fuck.
I take a deep breath. “Listen, it’s not a big deal. But to make a bit of extra cash, I’ve been moving some stuff for a guy I know.”
I wait for his reaction, trying not to let it show on my face that I’m scared he’ll be disappointed.
He frowns, obviously turning it over in his head.
“What do you mean, ‘moving stuff’? Evan, are you selling drugs?”
I roll my eyes and try to act like it’s not a big deal. “It’s just weed. I won’t do pills or anything like that. Weed’s not even illegal here anymore.”
“So why do people need to buy it off you? You don’t have a license to sell it, right? And you’d get in trouble if you were caught?”
“Do you know how expensive dispensary weed is? You don’t have to pay taxes to a dealer. Anyway, I’m careful. I told you, it’s not a big deal.”
“Do you need money?”
“Obviously. Who doesn’t? And before you offer, no you can’t loan or give me any.” No way, I’m not letting Nate give me money. The memory of that night resurfaces—two greasy fifty-dollar bills on a stranger’s dashboard. It won’t be like that with Nate. It can’t be.
“Evan.”
“It’s fine, okay? Just stop stressing.”
He bites his lip. I swear if he carries on, I’m gonna have to take him back to bed or something to shut him up, and I don’t know if my dick, or my ass, can take anymore.
“Okay?” I put my hand on his arm.
He looks up finally, nodding. “Please be careful, Ev.”
My heart does a stupid flutter. I know my ma and Stacie care about me, but I haven’t had anyone verbalize it like this for a long time.
“I will be. Don’t worry.”
Nate drives us to the beach in his SUV and I watch him run laps in the sand, timing him on my phone for some reason. It doesn’t matter how fast he does it, he isn’t an Olympic sprinter, but I humor him. Because it seems to make him happy.
“What was my time this time?”
“Slower.”
“Damnit.”
I snort. “Go again.”
Families explore the beach as Nate gets ready to run another lap. Kids are wading into the sea. People are washing their dogs at the showers. I try not to think about Nate pressed against the wall. His eyelids fluttering as he spilled over my knuckles.
“Evan?”
“Yeah?”
“What was my time?”
“Oh, shit. Sorry, I forgot to press start. Go again.”
I realize he’ll keep running until I tell him to stop, so I let him off the hook and buy him a water ice cone and watch him eat it. His sweat has made a dirty band around his cap.
“I’m gonna rinse off in the shower. Come with?” He waggles his eyebrows and bursts out laughing. “You should see your face.”
I let Nate play whatever the fuck emo music he wants in the car before he drops me off at work.
It’s a bad idea to let him drive me here.
I shouldn’t let him anywhere near my work, but it’s too late now.
He’s already wormed his way back in with Ma and Stacie.
Might as well infiltrate my place of work, too.
I try not to watch his left knee bouncing in his sweats while he drives.
Try not to catch his smell being circulated around the car with the air conditioning.
Definitely try not to think about him fucking me in every part of his room.
Fuck, I haven’t come that many times in one day since I was like sixteen.
He keeps glancing over at me and grinning. Maybe I should be self-conscious or ashamed or whatever—letting Nate see me like that, bent over his desk and hungry for his cock. Practically begging him to give it to me. But all I’m thinking is that I can’t wait to do it again.
I’m only semi-sane again once I’ve climbed out of the car. “I’ll pick you up at eleven,” he says as I get out.
I watch as he drives away, trying to will myself back into the real world.
Bob catches me coming in.
“Hey Evan, how’s it going?”
I realize I’m grinning like an idiot and wipe the smile off my face.
“Okay, thanks.”
His face changes once he looks at me properly.
“What happened to your face? Everything okay?”
“I just hit it with the door. Don’t worry about it.”
He looks like he isn’t gonna drop it. I consider making a joke about Ma hitting me with the frying pan, but I don’t think he’d find it funny. Thankfully he nods and accepts my explanation. As he’s walking away, something comes over me.
“Hey, Bob. Do you think I could get the application form for that course?” My neck starts to heat up, but I force myself to hold his gaze and ignore the stupid grin that spreads over his face. He practically trips over himself getting it for me.
After I clock in, I take up my space at the packing machine and get to work.
I have to force myself to keep my phone in my pocket. I told Nate I can’t text him or anything while I’m at work, but I still wanna see if he texted anyway.
Images of us in his room, or in the pool, keep floating to the surface, making me smile. My face gets hot and my pants are suddenly too tight.
I never thought I’d get to hear the way Nate sounds when he moans. Or see his face when he comes. Never thought I’d be the one to make that happen. Now it has, it feels surreal. It’s fucking scary. What am I gonna do if Nate decides this isn’t for him? No, not if. When.
I don’t even look at my phone while I take my break in the back. I grab a Snickers from the vending machine and a scorching cup of watery coffee and ignore the clock on the wall.
When I told my ma I was crashing at Nate’s, she had this big smile on her face. I wanted to tell her that me and Nate are fucking, just to see her reaction. Would she still love him then? Would she still think he was a good influence?