Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
“ You can’t actually like him, Thea. He’s Draven,” Mallory stressed to Thea when she visited earlier that day. “ I think you’re just confusing lust for like. You were in a relationship for a long time. I’m sure your attraction to him is linked to some desire to sow your wild oats .”
Wild oats. That had been the same thing Draven said. That women only wanted him for a hookup, to sow their wild oats, and then never speak to him again.
Mallory is wrong about him .
In the beginning of living with Draven, Thea often spent her nights in her bedroom. But tonight, feeling at home and high on the sugar rush of too many cookies, Thea remained in the living room. In their shared space.
She stretched out on the couch in front of the TV and found a new horror movie to stream that she had not seen before—which was difficult to accomplish since she loved them and watched them as soon as they came out. Alec never liked horror movies, so she would go with a group of friends to see them in theaters or stay up late and watch them by herself after he went to bed.
She cuddled into Draven’s obnoxiously soft, fuzzy blanket. The man had good taste in blankets. Even his bedsheets had felt like silk against her bare skin .
Nope! She needed to not think about her blip of waking up next to him, naked and hesitating to leave, when he threatened to start touching his hard cock right in front of her. She may or may not have been disappointed that he didn’t follow through on that.
Her phone vibrated against her hip, and she picked it up. Alec. “ Babe, answer my texts! This is getting ridiculous. You’re going to throw everything we have away over something so meaningless? It was meaningless, Thea. I promise you .”
He wanted to say she was throwing away their relationship over something meaningless? Hypocritical asshole.
Her phone lit up again, this time with a message from her parents. “ Have you talked everything through with Alec yet? ”
Thea turned her phone screen to black as she wondered if anyone trusted her sense and judgment.
She pressed play on the movie, settling into her bundle of blankets and pillows on the couch, creating a little nest of comfort.
The couch cushion dipped from where her feet laid at the other end, stealing her attention from the screen. Draven sank, sitting at the end of the couch and holding two bowls of popcorn.
Had he seen her getting set up in front of the TV and popped some? Was this the part where he stole the remote and put on something else because it was “his” apartment?
He handed her a bowl of popcorn and a Post-it that said, “ What are we watching? ”
Hyperaware that her bare toes brushed against the side of his thigh, she paused the movie and showed him the title.
He feigned a gasp and horrified look, mouthing, “ Horror? ”
Do not giggle at the sexy, over-emotive man, Thea. She nodded, mouthing back, “ Horror .”
He put his popcorn bowl on his lap and wrote on a notepad. With wide, gleaming eyes and a gaping mouth, he showed her, “ But you wear pearls ,” with the word “pearls” underlined.
She rolled her eyes and snorted, writing back, “ I love horror movies. Horror and action movies tend to be less subtitle-y and more, um, BOOM. You know? Wow, I’m really bad at describing this right now .”
She tapped the pen to her chin and wrote, “ Growing up, sometimes my family didn’t like to use subtitles. I like horror and action because they’re easier to follow without subtitles; they’re sentimental to me. They’re compelling and fun . Dramas and romance bore me .”
Slack-jawed, he wrote, “ Horror is fun? ”
“ Is Draven Maxwell, drummer of ‘Medusa’s Tears,’ a scared-y cat? ”
He read her note, puffed out his chest, then comically deflated as he nodded rapidly. Major scared-y cat. He flashed her a pantie-melting smile.
She clucked her tongue and wrote, “ We can watch something else? ” She hoped he said no. She really wanted to watch this one.
He waved off her offer and gestured for her to hit play on the movie.
She exhaled in relief and excitement as she resumed the film. The beginning credits faded as the movie began.
On screen, there was a couple having sex.
Graphic sex. Hello, nudity.
The woman’s breasts were on full display, moving against a man’s naked chest. The man’s sweat dripped down his forehead as he thrust into her, his expression one of tortured euphoria.
Thea held her breath, waiting for the horny couple to be found in their cabin in the woods and brutally murdered—as was the trend in horror movies. Sex equaled imminent death. A metaphor for Thea’s current crush or lust or whatever it was she started feeling for Draven.
Sex with Draven would mean a death. Death to her old life. An end to her ever finding a better lover—so she assumed, based on the rumors.
She swallowed and stiffened in her seat beside Draven as the couple on screen kept grinding onto each other. Humping. Thrusting. The subtitle literally read: “ Moaning. Sex sounds. Grunting .”
Slowly, she shifted on the couch, moving from a lying down position to sitting up, until the two of them sat on opposite sides of the piece of furniture—like an awkward first date.
When it felt like the sex scene droned on, passing the two-minute mark, Thea dared a glance at Draven, who stared back at her.
His dark eyebrows quirked.
She shrugged, tossing him an uncomfortable yet accepting expression of “ Welp .”
They both burst into awkward laughter, vibrating the couch.
“ See? ” Thea wrote. “ Horror movies aren’t so bad .”
Draven pointed to the screen of graphic sex and wrote, “ I am learning so much about you. ”
She fought off a grin as she rolled her eyes. “ You’re the one obsessed with sex .”
“ I’ll have you know, this is my fifth day in a row without any sexual relations .”
“ Do you want an award ?”
“ I expect to wake up on the seventh day with a blue, first-place ribbon hanging from my dick . Blue to match my blue balls, if that wasn’t clear .”
She tossed her head back and laughed, throwing a piece of popcorn at him. He bent his head, trying to catch the piece in his mouth. When he accomplished it, astonishing them both, they threw their arms up in the air in unison as if they were watching a soccer game and someone scored a pivotal goal.
Draven grinned at her like no one else—like he saw right through her. Like they were best friends growing up and knew everything about each other.
In two days, once the sex ban is over, will he bring home a band groupie ? Imagining him bringing home a random girl…hurt.
Damn it, Thea . She tore her gaze from him and refocused on the screen. You cannot like Draven Maxwell. He was the opposite of her type—the opposite of what her family expected.
Draven was a dream; he symbolized the artistic career someone wanted as a child. She needed reality. The grown-up adult reality.
But wasn’t she trying to follow her dreams for the first time in her life? She had been watching movie makeup tutorials for the last few days. She had looked up any possible apprenticeships, sending out “ Are you hiring? Pretty please? ” emails.
Thea zoned out, lost in her thoughts, until the first murder occurred on screen, a jump scare followed by blood spraying everywhere. Draven lurched and covered his eyes with his hands. Darn it, how is this sexy man allowed to also be adorable ? There had to be some law broken by his mere perfect existence.
When she finished her popcorn, he scooped some of his remaining buttery goodness into her empty bowl, sacrificing his own kernels.
He is feeding me . First, breakfast. Now, popcorn.
I want him .
Mallory’s words played through Thea’s head again. How different the two of them were, how Draven would never settle down, etc.
After about fifteen minutes into the movie, Draven shifted closer to her on the couch. He slid her a note. “ If you get scared, feel free to climb into my lap .”
* * *
How did she like this? Draven marveled at her as he suppressed his own fear. She is grinning as people get murdered . During certain moments, when the characters made dumb choices leading to their deaths, Thea aggressively signed at the TV and groaned.
Meanwhile, Draven was attempting not to jump at each scare. Or hide his eyes.
Why couldn’t she be into comedies?
When he initially joined her, he thought he would fake a yawn and stretch his arm and lay it behind her shoulders on the couch like a smooth high schooler. Instead, he was freaking the heck out.
He did not like ghosts. Or buckets of blood. A gory action movie was one thing, but possessed people attacking others with knives? Not his jam.
“Ahh!” He jerked on the couch when a shadow took over the screen, showing that the ghost was about to find the main characters in their hiding spots.
Thea giggled, clearly enjoying his fear. She wiggled her eyebrows at him in a challenge, her eyes silently teasing him, “ Aw, is poor Draven scared? ”
He shook his head. “You’re a little bit twisted, aren’t you?” he asked aloud, unable to keep his lips from curling at the edges.
Two minutes later, he jumped again.
Her eyes laughed at him.
“It came out of nowhere,” Draven defended himself.
Ten minutes later, he sat right next to her. Right next to her. For comfort. To comfort her, of course. Since the movie was scary. Poor girl.
Another ten minutes passed, and Draven was under her blanket. Specifically, the fuzzy material covered their legs and Draven’s face when he slouched and hid under it. Thea snickered beside him, but he couldn’t find it in himself to watch the terrifying screen, even if she thought he was a weakling.
The third time Draven lifted the blanket to cover his eyes, Thea dropped a hand onto his head and tussled his long, black locks of hair. She patted his head as if he were an amusing child.
Goddamn it, I’m losing all sex appeal , he grumbled.
She moved closer to him; the side of her warm thigh pressed firmly against his. His thick arm brushed hers. Terrifying and exhilarating lightning coursed through his veins, threatening to burn him to a crisp. Being this close to her…
She smelled like grapefruit. He had noticed the scent from their shared bathroom and saw her pink grapefruit body wash in the shower. But knowing why she smelled like grapefruit didn’t lessen the primal desire to splay her legs open, squeeze her to him, and lick up her juices.
The movie scared him. Her presence aroused him. Thus, his body was confused.
Her little head pats to comfort him—and the way she kept her fingers in his hair, stroking and massaging his scalp—made his cock harden and lengthen beneath his sweatpants.
She held onto him, rubbing the wavy strands between her fingers. He ever so slowly tilted his head, giving her easier access as he burrowed his face onto her shoulder.
Inhale. Shiver . Groan.
She smelled so damn good—buttery from the popcorn, and sweet and tart from her body wash. Want to devour her .
Want to kiss her.
Another possessed person abruptly came on screen, and Draven dug his face into the crook of her neck and shoulder even further. Her scent overwhelmed his senses, his body on fire for her, cock thick and pulsing.
Do not kiss her neck , Draven told himself.
But it was right there.
Don’t .
But she smelled so good.
No .
Thea tapped his shoulder and showed him a note when he reluctantly lifted his head. She mocked him by shooting his earlier words back at him. “ If you get scared, feel free to climb into my lap .”