Chapter 11
CHAPTER 11
Presley
" W hat did you do?" I hissed, stepping closer until I could smell the faint, sour tang of sweat on his shirt.
Evan shrugged, a smug grin slipping onto his face. "Nothing."
"So, he got detention for nothing?" I arched a brow, challenging him. "That’s not what I heard."
His expression darkened, the smirk fading as he narrowed his eyes. "What’s with you and him, anyway? I don’t like it. You’re my girlfriend."
"And he’s my friend."
Evan scoffed. "I don’t like you being friends with him."
I let out a bitter laugh, crossing my arms. "It's not like I’m sleeping with him, Evan."
He leaned forward, his voice hard. "If you were, at least one of us would be getting some because it sure isn’t me."
I glanced around the empty weight room, grateful no one else was here to witness this. "Seriously? That’s your big problem?"
He leaned back, crossing his arms with a cocky smile. "You know there are plenty of girls who’d be more than willing to give me what I want."
Wrapping my arms around myself, I forced a steady tone. "Then why don’t you? Why waste your time with me?"
He pushed himself off the weight bench, sliding an arm around me. "Because I’m invested."
I stiffened, feeling his hand press against my back as he held me close. He had no idea what I was really invested in—that little notebook of his. The one I knew he and his friends used to jot down all their stupid conquests, probably including me, like I was some kind of prize. If I could get my hands on it, I’d burn the damn thing and send him the ashes.
"Invested in what?" I asked, trying to keep my tone light.
His voice dropped, all seriousness now. "In being your first."
I bit back a laugh. If only he knew how ridiculous that sounded, given he wasn’t.
He stroked a finger along my cheek. "And that takes time."
My stomach tightened with frustration. "It’s not just about time, Evan. I told you, I’m not ready."
He narrowed his gaze, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "Not ready for me, or for sex?"
My jaw clenched. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"It means I want to know if we’re going anywhere. I’m tired of waiting, of feeling like a damn fool."
I crossed my arms, refusing to break eye contact. "Then deal with it. Go… take care of yourself if you have to."
He exhaled sharply, looking away. "Homecoming is next week. You know we’re basically a lock for king and queen. I’m having a party afterward—you can tell your parents you’re crashing with Reagan."
I straightened. "Is that a demand?"
He turned back to me, his tone softening as he ran a hand down my arm. "It’s a request. I wouldn’t hurt you. Besides…" He hesitated, glancing at the floor. "We might end up at the same college. You applied to Penn State and UConn, right?"
I nodded, but inside I felt a knot form. He didn’t know about my early acceptance to Cornell and Brown. He had his heart set on Penn State, following in his dad’s footsteps. But my plans weren’t wrapped up in his dreams.
"Yeah," I said, keeping my voice casual.
His eyes lit up. "Then we have a shot. I see us going long-term."
I snorted softly. "But you’re making it clear that sex is the only way for us to be real."
He leaned in closer. "Maybe we just need to… take it slow, get each other off. Your birthday’s next week, right? You really want to be eighteen and a virgin?" He gave me a sideways glance. "Reagan’s not."
My eyes narrowed. "And how exactly do you know that?"
Evan’s face closed off, his jaw tightening. "I just do. It’s… rumors."
I stepped back. "Rumors, or something else?"
He pressed his fingers to his temples. "Don’t twist things. Look, what can I do to show you I’m not just in this for sex?"
I shook my head, my voice barely a whisper. "Nothing. Because it seems like that’s all you want."
The warning bell rang, and I turned, ready to make a break for the door. But Evan grabbed my arm, pulling me back against him, his eyes intense as he looked down at me.
"It’s not all I want." His grip softened. "Come over tonight. Mom’s making chicken cutlets. We can do our trig homework, watch a movie… just hang out."
I let out a slow breath. "Fine."
A relieved smile broke across his face as he tilted my chin up, his lips brushing mine softly, but I felt nothing but the quiet resolve to figure out exactly where his loyalties really lay.
“You’re seeing Evan tonight?” Reagan’s voice crackled through the speakerphone as I dragged a brush through my hair.
“Yeah. His mom’s making chicken cutlets. We’ll probably watch a movie after trig homework.”
Reagan’s laugh was full of implication. “Are you sure that’s all you’ll be doing?”
I rolled my eyes, though she couldn’t see it. “We’re not hooking up. He’s… being patient.”
“Patient? Girl, you need to give it up already. He’s got experience—way better than my first time with a guy who didn’t know what he was doing.”
Her tone was light, but it stung. I knew she’d slept with at least four guys, probably more she hadn’t told me about. I swallowed, not wanting to ask the question pressing at my mind, but it slipped out anyway. “So… what’s up with you and Hudson?”
A pause. “We had a fight,” she said, sounding uncharacteristically flat. “I guess we’ll patch it up when he’s back.”
“Yeah, I heard… two days suspension.”
“He should’ve just gone to detention. Evan was only joking around with Neil.”
My hand froze, brush tangled in my hair. “Wait. The kid Hudson was sticking up for was Neil?”
“Uh… yeah, I thought you knew. Didn’t your brother say something?”
“No. He didn’t say a word.”
She let out a dismissive hum. “Well, it wasn’t a big deal, just… you know, hazing.”
My stomach tightened as I wondered how Reagan knew so much about what went down, while I was left in the dark. Neil hadn’t said anything, and neither had Evan. The faint pulse of music seeped through the wall from my brother’s room, and I made up my mind to confront him before heading to Evan’s.
“I’ve got to go; Mom needs me to help with dinner.” I hurried through the words, already on edge.
“Call me later,” Reagan replied.
As soon as I hung up, I slipped my sweater on and walked to Neil’s room, knocking firmly.
“Come in,” he called.
Neil was stretched out on his bed, nose deep in a comic book, his face framed by a pair of Ryland football sweats he practically lived in now. I perched on the edge of his bed, watching him carefully.
“So… how are you?”
He tossed the comic aside, shrugging. “Good.”
The shadow of hair on his upper lip caught my attention, surprising me. When had my little brother started looking so grown up?
“What happened with Evan and Hudson today?” I asked, voice as calm as I could make it.
He stiffened immediately. “I didn’t ask Hudson to do anything, okay? It was just normal football stuff. I expect it. I’m the only freshman on the team.”
“Do you really think it’s right that my boyfriend’s giving you crap?”
“Just drop it, Pres.” His jaw was set. “I don’t need you—or anyone else—babysitting me.”
“Neil, you’re barely a teenager,” I reminded him, crossing my arms.
“Stop telling me what to do!” His voice turned harsh, his eyes flashing with frustration. “You’re only mad because your friend got suspended. Hudson needs to mind his own business.”
“Neil…” I began, trying to reach him, but he cut me off.
“No! Stop butting in, and don’t say a thing to Evan tonight. I don’t need my sister defending me.”
I stood, brushing invisible lint from my sweater. “For the record, I do it because I love you. But apparently, that doesn’t mean anything to you.”
Without another word, I left his room, ignoring the knot of frustration in my chest. If he didn’t want my help, fine. I wouldn’t offer it anymore. Grabbing my purse, I shrugged on my coat, muttering a quick goodbye to Mom on my way out the door.
As I slipped into the Jeep, I reached into my pocket and felt a small piece of folded paper—the dare Hudson had given me. It had been sitting there for days, unread. Biting my lip, I unfolded it slowly.
Spend the day with me.
My heart thudded. Hudson wanted me to spend a day with him. The thought lingered, even as I tried to push it away. In another month, I’d be done with winter sports. Five weeks, and I’d be finished with cheerleading forever.
I texted him.
What day.
Almost immediately, he replied.
She lives. Where’ve you been?
Busy. Sorry.
What day are you free?
I hesitated, my thumb hovering over the keys as a knot of jealousy tightened in my chest. All week, I’d watched Reagan practically drape herself over him at lunch, feeding him French fries, sitting close, kissing him like they were the only two people in the world.
You sure your girlfriend will let you off the leash?
No response. Setting my phone in the holder, I backed out of the driveway, keeping one eye on it, just in case he called. A few seconds later, my phone lit up.
“Spend the day with you?” I asked, putting him on speaker as I pulled over to the curb, sensing this conversation would get intense.
“That’s the dare. Do you accept, or should I give you two dares as consequences?”
“Hudson, it’s not a dare. It’s trouble.”
“Why?” His voice softened, almost daring me to say it.
“You know why.”
My heart thundered, blood pounding in my ears, the truth right on the edge of my lips.
“Then dump him and go out with me.”
I swallowed hard, voice barely steady. “I can’t.”
Silence filled the line, stretching long enough to make me second-guess everything. Finally, he spoke, his tone edged with frustration. “It’s not that you can’t, Presley. It’s that you don’t want to. You’d rather play it safe, be the queen. You don’t even realize…”
“Realize what?” I asked, grip tightening on the wheel.
“How loved you really are. It’s not Evan who makes you… it’s you.”
“Hudson…” My voice faltered. “Our whole year was planned out—next year too.”
He let out a heavy sigh. “Is that what you want?”
“No… I don’t know what I want.”
I sighed loudly. “Fine. I’ll spend a day with you. How about Sunday?”
“Saturday?”
“I’m not free on Saturdays until Halloween week.”
“Perfect,” I said, feeling a smile creep onto my face. “I can give you your birthday present then.”
He laughed, softening. “You think I’d forget your birthday? Hell no.”
My heart flipped. “Huddy… can we set aside some time to talk? Maybe Friday night?”
He snorted. “Sure. Not like I have much going on with this suspension.”
“Then I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
“What about him?”
“Don’t say it like that,” I warned. “Evan is off-limits.”
His tone turned ice-cold. “Tomorrow, then.”
The call ended, and I sat there a moment, gathering myself, before driving off toward Evan’s house, my mind tangled in a thousand things I couldn’t untangle.
Evan’s hands slid under my sweater, his lips trailing along my neck as he unzipped my jeans. Our trig homework lay forgotten, and the movie droned on in the background, a faint reminder of the world beyond this room.
“I want to taste you,” he whispered, voice low and rough. A shiver raced through me, and though every nerve in my body was on fire, a wave of hesitation surfaced. If I let things go further, there would be no turning back.
“Not tonight,” I murmured, steadying myself.
He nodded, slipping a hand into my jeans, his touch both gentle and insistent as his teeth grazed over my sweater, teasing my nipple. I gasped when his fingers dipped into my slickness, bringing them to his mouth to taste. “You’re so sweet,” he murmured, his voice nearly a growl.
His fingers found my swollen clit, and he began to rub in slow, tight circles. My hips moved with his rhythm as his mouth captured mine, his tongue brushing against mine in an unspoken invitation. The heat between us built, quick and intense, until my back arched, and a moan escaped.
“Evan…” I breathed, nearly undone.
“That’s it, baby. Give it to me,” he murmured, his fingers coaxing me along until my body went limp, a dazed smile on my lips.
“Thank you,” I managed, my cheeks flushed.
He took my hand, guiding it to his crotch, pressing my palm over his hard length. My fingers found the zipper, tugging it down as I returned his touch, stroking him like I’d done before. He shoved his boxers aside, freeing himself, and I took in the sight of him—thick, solid, and already pulsing under my hand.
Evan shifted back, his breath catching as he watched me. “Yeah, just like that,” he murmured, his eyes half-closed. My fingers ran along the length of him, collecting the precum, spreading it along his shaft as he groaned. His breathing quickened, his body taut with anticipation.
A moment later, he tensed, his face tightening as white ropes of release spilled over his chest. I continued to stroke until he let out a shaky laugh, pushing my hand away.
“God, that was incredible,” he said, catching his breath. “Just imagine how it’ll be when we go all the way.”
I managed a small nod, my thoughts swirling. “I’ll just take a quick shower,” he added, getting up with a satisfied grin. “You okay with that?”
“Yeah, go ahead,” I replied, watching as he disappeared into the bathroom. Once I was alone, I pulled up my jeans and wandered over to his desk, half-looking for our notebook. But as I glanced through the drawer, my fingers brushed across something unexpected—something that made me pause.