Chapter Sixteen #2
For a split second, Everest’s eyes flare with something I’m not fast enough to catch before it’s gone again.
Whatever answer he was about to give stays locked behind the hard line of his mouth, but I clock the way his gaze flicks to the wall where Reid’s music thunders through the plaster, then back to me.
The power balance shifts in my favor as my brow rises.
I’m not the only one hiding something here.
I push off the door, taking a step toward him in the hopes of being intimidating.
In a futile attempt to reclaim my territory.
However, Everest doesn’t budge an inch. He watches me intensely, like he’s cataloging every fracture I’m trying to hide.
The air thickens as I close the distance.
Warmth radiates from him, his chest rising and falling steadily beneath the black hoodie he’s pulled on over his lacrosse jersey, his baggy shorts hanging low on his hips like he dressed in a hurry. The question is, why?
Planting myself directly in front of him, I tip my chin back to expose the tremor of my pulse.
Everest saw me terrified last night. He saw me shaking, barely able to hold myself together.
Now, not even a day later, he’s seeing me in the wake of fear again.
I hate that he’s seen either, and everything in me screams to show him I’m still strong.
I’m still the girl who refused to back down from a fight. I’m still fiercely me.
My gaze flicks to his mouth without permission, memories colliding with the adrenaline still flooding my system.
I recognize that I’m spiraling, but I can’t stop it.
For once, I want to drop my guard and simply feel something that isn’t grief and regret.
I need something to drown out the roaring between my ears, the images clawing at my brain and the echo of weakness I despise.
My hands fist in the front of his hoodie, hauling him down to me as I surge forward, my mouth crashing into his with more force than grace, all heat, urgency and misplaced defiance.
There’s a split second where Everest freezes, shock flickering through him, and then he responds, a low sound vibrating against my mouth as his hands instinctively grip my waist. The world narrows to the press of his mouth, the slide of breath against my lips.
I cling to it, to him, pouring every jagged edge of fear and fury into the contact until my lungs burn and my head spins. I am not weak, goddamn it.
Spinning us, Everest pins me against the wall that separates my room from Reid’s.
The irony isn’t lost on me, not with the bass from next door thrumming through the plaster and straight into my spine, but Everest doesn’t hesitate.
He cages me there, all solid heat and ruthless intent, his body a living barricade between me and every thought I’m trying to outrun.
I arch into him, my tongue pushing into his mouth as I override every image burned into my mind.
I’d forgotten how soft his lips are. How gentle his hands can be.
The impact of that thought knocks the air from my lungs, yet I still cling to him, my fingers forever dragging his hoodie closer.
Bending slightly, Everest lifts my bare thigh, the stretch of the compression shorts seeing my knee hitched over his hip.
He presses his crotch into me, and I gasp into his mouth.
He’s hard. Rock hard, deliciously hard. Spots pepper my vision behind closed lids, the roll of his hips being felt all the way through my core and up my body.
Our mouths become feral, neither of us willing to lose the challenge for control, neither of us willing to surrender first. Brazenly, I roll my own hips in response, relishing every hard inch of him.
Everest groans low in his throat, his teeth nipping at my lip, his fingers splayed across my ribs.
The vibrations from the music bleed into us, giving the moment a desperate, feverish edge.
For a heartbeat, there’s nothing else. Not Reid.
Not the canvases. Not the shitty lacrosse practice where I lack all of the respect I’ve earned.
Not the therapy, the fear, the questions, or any of the things I don’t want to name.
There’s just Everest pressed against me, his mouth branding promises he hasn’t spoken, his presence loud enough to drown out everything I don’t want to feel.
I kiss him harder, reckless and unfiltered, because if I’m going to fall apart, I want it to be entirely on my own terms.
Then, somewhere beneath the heavy bass and the mingling of our rushed breaths, there’s another sound.
A repetitive roll of vibrations from a distant source.
I turn my head to the side, pricking my ears as the room starts to take shape around me once more.
Everest uses my distraction to trail his lips over my jaw and neck, his dick and chest pinning me in place as his hands roam.
Yet, I’ve locked onto the sound now, and my eyes drop to my gym bag.
Through the mesh pocket, the light of my phone flickers, darkens, and then brightens again.
Shit. Thiago.
“Hold up,” I breathe, arching just enough to wedge a sliver of air between us.
The loss of contact feels abrupt, like stepping back from a fire too quickly.
Everest’s head lifts from my collarbone, his lashes slow to rise.
Within his hooded green eyes, a familiar heat blazes.
He’s slow to regain control, his cheeks hollow, his lips bruised and parted.
A far cry from the smug heir he allows the rest of the world to see.
A part of me almost says fuck it, and takes everything he’s willing to give me, but then my phone starts vibrating again.
So instead, I hang my head. “What’s happening right now? ”
Everest exhales a faint, humorless sound.
“You tell me,” he stands straighter, slowly lowering my leg from where it was curled around his waist. “You dragged me in here. You stepped closer.” His gaze drops to my hands, still twisted in the front of his hoodie, before lifting again. “You’re the one in control.”
For a brief, terrifying moment, I don’t know whether I want to shove him away or pull him closer. I settle for neither, forcing my fingers to loosen as I push him a shaky step back, the echo of that kiss still buzzing through my veins.
“This didn’t happen,” I state hoarsely. Everest doesn’t react at first, his eyes searching mine.
Whatever he sees there seems to sober him, the moment recalibrating to the usual disdain we hold for each other.
Shifting his posture and squaring his shoulders, he locks everything back into place, drawing the line between us that should have always been there.
“Whatever you say, Meg,” Everest replies, his jaw tightening. Reaching down, he rearranges his erection without shame, a small smirk returning. “It’s not like I don’t have other options anyway.”
Without waiting for a response, Everest unlocks the door, and slips out into the hallway as if something monumental hasn’t just detonated between us. I stay where I am, staring at the blank space he left behind, my skin still buzzing and lips bruised. I am such an idiot.
I wanted a distraction, proof that I wasn’t unraveling, and instead, I handed Everest an advantage over me.
Another regret he can dangle over my head.
As his footsteps fade and Reid’s music swells through the wall again, all that’s left is the hollow awareness that kissing Everest didn’t make me strong. It makes me desperate.