“I knew you were hardcore, but I had no idea you had it in you.” He’s at my side now and far too energetic for my liking.
“Let's set something straight.” I stop and look him dead in the eye. “We are not friends; we will never be friends. Whatever happened earlier on the trail was a momentary lapse of weakness, something I’m not proud of. Do not, I repeat, do not mistake it for kindness. I am not a kind person.” I turn back around and continue to walk, and once again, he doesn’t get the hint.
Pick.
Pick.
Pick.
“You’re not telling me anything I didn’t already know. Kind people don’t sock it to random chicks.”
Heinous.
“She isn’t a random chick. She’s the enemy.” I hold my focus on the end of the driveaway, hoping he turns around before we reach it.
“Seems to me like you’ve got a lot of them.”
I stop again, for the last time. “What the hell do you want?”
He stuffs his hands into his pants pockets. “You’re drunk. You’re walking out here in the dark, alone. I just figured I’d make sure you’re ok.”
“I’m ok. Just leave.” I walk again, and I swear, if he doesn’t leave within the next thirty seconds, he will feel what Petra felt, only worse.
“Where are you going?”
“Are you still here?” I turn to face him. “I’m going home.”
“I’ll walk you.”
Yep, still there.
“No! No, you won’t walk me. I told you we are not friends.”
He turns around and looks back down the driveway toward Axel’s house. “I don’t see all your so-called friends rushing down here to check on you. In fact, I don’t even think they noticed you left. Sounds like you need some new ones.”
Just as I’m about to spit out something degrading and harsh, whatever it takes to get rid of him, he begins pulling his hoodie over his head and taking it off.
“Here.” He wraps the sleeves around my shoulders. “You look like you could use this.”
My frozen heart stops for a tick and resumes, slowly melting with each beat. I don’t thank him; I don’t say anything. I don’t even tell him to go away anymore.
Before I know it, we are halfway to my house, walking along in complete silence.
A perfect silence that is slowly calming my mind but leaving behind an imprint—a scar.
It’s a nice change from all of the noise that surrounds me on a daily basis. Having somone to share the silence with isn’t half bad either.
Until the silence is broken.
“Damn, this is a long ass walk.” He tucks his hands back into the pocket of his jeans. I look over and the streetlight exposes the goosebumps on his arms.
“It’s really not that far.” I finally speak. My tone now calm and collected.
I pull my phone from my back pocket and text Talon. When he doesn’t respond right away, I send Alex a text to make sure everything is going ok.
“So, not only did you luck out being my Greek History partner, you also get to be my neighbor. You really are a lucky girl.” He nudges into me as we continue to walk, and I can’t help but giggle.
“I think you’re the lucky one.”
“I’ll let you know when the assignment is done.” His shoulder bumps mine, and I turn to look at him. A smile on both our faces.
“What the hell was that?” He jokes.
“What?” I press my lips into a hard line.
“Did Blakely Porter just smile?” He bumps me again playfully, this time I stumble a few steps. The liquor I downed is still taking effect. “You are just full of surprises.”
My phone vibrates in my hand and Alex reassures me that all is well. I let out a sigh of relief and stuff it back in my pocket.
When we finally make it home, I don’t say anything. I just walk to the front porch as Jasper watches. I turn around, feeling like I should thank him—but I don’t say the words. I’ve never been good with using words when it comes to gratitude. The alcohol still sweeping through my bloodstream gives me an idea to show my appreciation. One that I know I’ll regret tomorrow.
I smile as I walk away.
Hoping that was enough, for now.
Chapter Eight
Jasper
I stood in the grass until she closed the door. And then I stayed a little longer, hoping she’d walk back out it. When she never did, I walked home.
The house is quiet, still. I kick off my shoes in the hallway, not bothering to put them in the closet. I guess I need to get used to it. It’s been just Dad and I for the past five years. I forgot what it’s like to have a woman harping at me about cleanliness. Maybe I’ll start tomorrow. I walk through the rooms, no one is home. Knox is still at his buddy’s party, I should be there, too. I left behind my crew and didn’t even tell them I was leaving. Hell, I didn’t even know I was leaving.
Walking up the stairs, I lift my t-shirt over my head, remembering that B still has my hoodie. My mind wanders to her and the look of innocence that flashed through her eyes momentarily. Even if it didn’t last, I know it’s in there somewhere. A scared girl who just begs for the world to love her because she doesn’t know how to love herself.
I drop my pants and bend down to pick up a pair of sweats when the wind blows through my slightly opened window. I gravitate toward it, pulling the blinds down enough to look out. My lips part and lift at the seams when I see her. Standing directly across from me, her hair thrown up in a pile on top of her head, fuzzy pajama pants and a t-shirt, amplifying more beauty than I’d ever seen before.
Natural, vulnerable, and tempting.
She didn’t get the attention that she wanted at the party, now she’s trying to get my attention.
She’s got it.
I continue to watch as she walks over to her vanity, sitting down in front of her mirror, allowing me to see her reflection, her eyes locked on mine. I’m caught. I should stop watching, but I don’t—something doesn’t let me. Maybe it’s her reaction. She doesn’t gasp or pull her curtains shut in anger. She just sits there, watching me watch her. She takes the top off of her lip balm, dipping her finger in and rubbing it slowly across her lips. It’s all for show, but I have a front row seat. Setting it down, she stands. Exposing herself to me in the mirror, her icy blue eyes still on mine—provoking me.
She lifts her t-shirt over her head and drops it to her feet. My eyes widen and my heart rate accelerates, her silky smooth skin entrancing me. Her hands reach up and I think she’s going to close the curtains—flip me off, something. But, she doesn’t. She pulls out hair tie and her blonde locks fall around her oval face. Her body is a perfect sculpture, taking my breath away. I remain motionless aside from the growing bulge in my boxers, bursting through the fabric, begging for more.
Maybe she was drunker than I thought.
This is wrong, so fucking wrong, but I don’t stop watching.
She looks like a dream, inside of a nightmare. Grazing her fingers over the hem of her pants, she slides them down, leaving only her panties in place. Her tongue swipes her lips and I find myself doing the same, wondering what hers taste like. Cherry? Strawberry? Heaven? Just when I think that I can’t possibly be any harder for this girl, she slowly traces her fingers down her breast to her stomach. Light, featherlike and gripping. When I think she might stop, she keeps going. Cupping her crotch and pressing her fingers firmly against the pink fabric. She throws her head back and relishes in the pleasure she’s bringing to herself. I can feel my cock pulsate—my breaths shallow and unfulfilled. She walks slowly over to the window, giving me a grin almost as big as my erection—in a slow and steady motion, she extends her arms, gripping her curtains and pulls them shut.