Fourteen
Summer
Me: Just got home. Heading to bed. I love you guys.
Dad: Goodnight, lovie. We love you too.
“Honey, I’m home!” I shout into the apartment, relieved to finally be home and grateful that Bethany offered to drop me off—although she was coming over here to pick up Moose anyway but still, she could’ve left me stranded at work.
Moose and I bump into each other by the front door. “Sorry, Summer,” Moose chuckles while taking a step back. “You’re a cute girl and all but I’m practically already hitched.”
“Believe me, Moose. I think I’ll live.”
He smiles. “Is Beth still out there?”
“Yeah.” I kick my shoes off under the hallway table that’s way too wide for how small this apartment is. “She told me to tell you that you have exactly one minute to get your ass downstairs or she’s leaving.”
Moose’s eyes widen and he mumbles something that sounds a lot like “she’ll do it too,” before he steps past me and heads out the door. It closes with a click.
“River?” I call out to him and set my bag down on the same table, walking a little further down the hallway. Maybe he’s not here.
This apartment isn’t big enough for him to not hear me calling out. I’m surprised the neighbors haven’t pounded on the wall yet—their way of telling us to shut up.
A smile forms on my face when I spot River sitting on the couch. His headphones are on and he’s hunched over something. I step closer to see that he’s completely focused on his sketchbook and he has colored pencils sprawled out on the coffee table.
River’s never used color in his art before. I personally think it never needed it. Everything he makes seems to come to life effortlessly.
I try to sneak a peek at whatever he’s so focused on and what inspired him to start trying to incorporate color. All I’m able to catch is a sketch of a hand before River’s head snaps toward me and he’s ripping out his headphones, slamming his sketchbook shut like his life depends on it.
I throw my head back and groan. “Oh, come on. You never show me anything anymore.”
“There’s nothing special to show.” River tries to argue but I beg to differ.
I climb over the couch, plopping down next to him. I lightly shove his leg with my foot when he purposely sticks his sketchbook in between the couch cushions furthest away from me.
“You know, I’m starting to think that you’re drawing like hentai or something,” I accuse.
River chokes on his own breath and laughs, but he shakes his head regardless.
What the hell can possibly be so secretive that he can’t show me?
I’m tempted to climb over him and snatch the goddamn sketchbook.
River begins cleaning up his colored pencils, lazily tossing them into a pencil case.
“I’m just working on using some color. It’s a little embarrassing as an artist for my art to look like shit when it’s colored. ”
I don’t know why he thinks that I’d laugh at him for trying to differentiate between colors. It’s not his fault he can’t see them. But fine, I guess I’ll let it go.
For now.
River leans back on the couch, his art supplies somewhat cleaned up. He doesn’t say anything about me leaning against the arm of the couch and resting my feet in his lap.
“I talked to Lils today.” I change the subject.
“Is she okay?” River begins massaging my ankles. The parts he knows that tend to ache when I’m on my feet for too long.
“Yeah, they made it back home a little while ago, but Lils was so anxious during the flight that she had to pop a Xanax, so she’s pretty much passed out right now.”
River smiles. “She’ll be okay. She just also needs to believe that.”
Yeah she does and maybe one day she will.
River’s hands move down to my feet. An involuntary moan escapes me and River’s hands pause on the spot that made me react.
It’s already nearing the end of June. We don’t have a lot of time left to kill with this deal of ours, so I don’t bother to beat around the bush. “River? Do you want to shower with me?”
The second he nods his head, I climb onto his lap, my knees bracketing his hips and my arms wrapping around his neck.
It should terrify me how easy this feels. How naturally we move against each other, like there’s never been any other way for us to exist before this. I want to teach him things no one has before and ingrain myself in his memory.
Needing his skin on mine with no barriers between us, I peck his lips, slide off his lap to stand, and drag him toward the bathroom but the front door swings open abruptly. I pull away from River, tripping and falling forward onto the couch. I wince when my knee hits one of the couch springs.
Moose walks back in, grumbling about something with a pout on his face that reeks of disappointment. He freezes when he sees River and me on the couch.
A tightness begins to form in my chest.
I’m sure Moose can practically see the tension floating around in the air. If it is visible to Moose at all, he chooses to ignore it for now.
“I’ve been grounded.” Moose all but whines and mopes over to the recliner.
River shifts next to me and from the corner of my eye, I see him grab one of the couch pillows and set it down on his lap.
Subtle. Real subtle.
I clear my throat, choosing to answer Moose, otherwise we’d be sitting in an uncomfortable amount of silence. “What are you talking about?”
“Apparently—” Moose crosses his arms. “I forgot about Beth’s and my three-month anniversary. I didn’t even know that was a thing to celebrate.”
River snorts. “Duh, dude.”
“How would you even know?” I can’t help but laugh at River and he has the nerve to look offended.
He’s literally only dated one girl.
“I’m a chick whisperer.” River tries to defend himself.
“You”—I point at River—“are not a chick whisperer. And you”—I point at Moose—“should’ve known because Beth hasn’t shut up about it for the past week.”
Moose’s eyes widen and he quickly shoots up from the recliner. “Oh shit, I do remember talking about making plans. I have a lot of making up to do.”
Moose is already bringing his phone to his ear and walking toward his room, the door closing with a click. River and I are alone once again. Well, as alone as we can be with his roommate begging his girlfriend for forgiveness in the other room.
“So, about that shower…” I remain in my spot, not moving any closer but I do twist the hem of my shirt between my fingers and nudge the pillow that’s still on his lap.
River smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes and my heart sinks immediately. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Not with Moose here.”
The words hit me harder than I know they should. This was part of our deal after all. No one is supposed to know.
“Okay.” I try my best to smile and act like it doesn’t feel as if he just stabbed me in the chest. “I’m going to head to bed then.”
“Goodnight, Sum,” River calls out to me but I’m already grabbing my pajamas from his room and walking into the only bathroom in this apartment.
I’ll admit that I start the shower and rip my clothes off with a bit more disappointment and attitude than necessary, and maybe I even stand underneath the lukewarm water with my arms crossed. I’m almost tempted to just storm back into the living room and show River what he’s missing.
But I don’t.
Instead, I find myself reaching for River’s body wash, squirting some over my breasts and rubbing it in to create suds that travel down my body. I let myself be engulfed in nothing but his scent. The bottle in my hand is quickly replaced with the showerhead.
I know this probably isn’t a good idea but I can’t help it. I have a one-track mind right now that only seems to revolve around River’s touch. Touching myself in a bathroom that isn’t even mine should deter me, but this is honestly the most privacy I’ve gotten since moving to Ellingbrook.
We don’t necessarily get our own showers on campus.
The communal bathrooms at Kingswell are nice.
They offer enough privacy instead of just a lousy curtain, but I still don’t find myself spending more than ten minutes in there.
Thirty if I have to shave. And I’m definitely not going to touch myself with other girls coming in and out of the bathroom.
I lift my leg to rest along the edge of the tub and reach between my thighs with my free hand, spreading myself open.
I press the showerhead to my clit and immediately slap a hand over my mouth.
The last thing I need is for Moose to know what I’m doing in here.
I mean, I don’t mind River hearing and deciding to come and join me, but Moose? Not so much.
I chew on my bottom lip so hard I’m convinced I’ll draw blood. The pressure feels incredible and yet not enough. Not when I know what River feels like.
Against me.
Inside of me.
I grip one of my breasts, imagining River’s mouth on me. His hot breath against my neck. The compact space in the back of his car and how it left us no choice but to remain cramped together. It was perfect and this…this showerhead and my hand aren’t enough.
I’ve only been with him once. How can River possibly make it so that I can’t satisfy myself on my own? I need more. I need him.
I abruptly pull the showerhead away from me.
Frustrated and angry at the man sitting in the living room, oblivious to me trying desperately to get myself off.
This is stupid and ridiculous. Now I want nothing more than to either shove Moose out of his own apartment or tell River to get his ass in the shower, not caring what noises either of us make.
But fine whatever, I’ll go lie in bed with the space between my thighs still throbbing.
I wash up, rinsing off River’s body wash but fortunately—or unfortunately depending on how I look at it—the scent lingers.
When I’m dressed in my own pajamas, I steal a glance down the hallway to see the lights are now off in the living room.
I don’t bother with saying goodnight because I know that if I went in there, I might just say screw it.