Nothing but silence.
“Careful, control freak.” His voice is low. “High hopes will break your heart.”
I think I see his eyes drop to my lips.
“So, that’s it? You’re just going to be alone for the rest of your life? Pile up meaningless hookups and avoid anything real?”
“Maybe.” He shrugs. “I don’t know shit about the future. Never have. I just know what I want now.”
“And what’s that?” I dare ask.
I know I’m not imagining things when his eyes fall to my lips again. I wait for him to look away, but he doesn’t.
“You really want to know?” he says so quietly I find myself bending forward to hear better.
I reply with a small nod.
He smirks, inching closer.
And closer.
“I want—”
He’s stopped by the Darth Vader theme song.
What the…
What was in that brownie?
My concerns about my mental health vanish when I spot Will’s phone going off on the grass.
“Fan of Star Wars, huh? Good to know,” I sneer, but he doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t even crack a smile.
“We have to go. Now.” He charges out of the tub, holding out his hand and helping me out, as well.
“Why? What’s the rush?”
“Folks are coming home.” He picks his clothes off the ground, struggling to stuff wet legs into completely dry jeans.
Wow, this was a dumb plan.
He finally wins the battle against his pants, beckoning to help him move the hot tub cover back into place. I do just that and sweep my top and leggings off the grass. He must see the hesitation in my eyes as I glance at my clothes because he blurts, “No time. Come on!”
He bands a hand around my wrist, speed walking toward the gate. His touch sends shivers throughout my entire body. Okay. High is not a good look on me.
“What the hell is going on? Why are you acting like your parents are going to kick you out of your house?”
Will stops dead, flashes me his million-dollar smile over his shoulder, and says, “Who said it was mine?”
My jaw drops.
“What?” I shriek, but I know I won’t be getting an answer. Because he starts running. Allow me to revise—we start running, Will’s grip on my wrist leaving me no choice but to follow.
“Are you out of your fucking mind? This is breaking and entering. Whose house is this?”
My heart is beating double time.
He’s laughing so hard it’s hard to make out what he’s saying. “Alex’s. He had shit to do today, and I lent him my car. His parents were out tonight, and since he owed me a favor, I asked him if we could use his hot tub. He said he’d call when they were on their way. I thought we’d be gone by now.”
Alex’s.
Of course. His parents just moved, which explains why I didn’t recognize their place. Will probably texted him when we left the party to collect that favor. So much for their epic bromance.
“How long do we have before they get here?”
“Ten seconds tops.”
Ten.
We reach the car.
Nine.
Will squeezes his keys out of his wet jeans pocket and wrestles with the lock.
Eight.
He manages to yank the door open.
Seven.
I’m about to go to the other side, but he stops me, motioning to get in through his door.
Six.
I do.
Five.
We both scramble inside.
Four.
Will fires up the engine.
Three.
We reverse out of the driveway.
Two.
We see a red car turn the corner.
One.
We take off into the night at full speed.
I let out a breath of relief, watching Alex’s parents pull into their driveway through the rearview mirror. We’re so pumped on adrenaline, it takes us a good five seconds to realize we’ve just barely made it. We lock eyes. And start laughing like we’re five, which, right now, we are.
“Any other house you feel like breaking into tonight?” I pant.
His eyes light up. “Actually—”
“Don’t even think about it.” I scold.
He laughs.
“Usual high lasts six hours. We still have four to kill.”
His statement catches me off guard. He didn’t even ask, just assumed he was keeping me company.
“Oh… you really don’t have to hang out with me all night, it’s fine. I’ll just face whatever punishment my mom has in store for me.”
“Nice try. I’m having too much fun getting you out of your comfort zone.”
A grateful smile defies my better judgment, peeking through without my consent. That’s kind of nice of him.
“Okay, then. Where to?”
“There’s something I want to show you” is all he says.
I pull my dripping wet hair into a loose bun, shivering in places I didn’t even know I could—I’m still wearing nothing but Will’s large soaked T-shirt on top of my underwear. He notices, cranking up the heat. I thank him with a nod, tugging his T-shirt farther down my exposed thighs. I hate myself for admitting it but… For a guy who acts dead inside,
He sure knows how to make me feel alive.
Kassidy
“For fuck’s sake, woman, calm down. I’m giving you the food,” Will laughs, swiping his card back from the employee and driving away from the Taco Bell drive-through in a rumble. We’re not even out of the parking lot before I’m snatching the bag out of his hands. Long story short, as soon as we fled Alex’s house, high Kass decided it was time for her favorite part of the day—eating.
“Hungry, I am. Food, you feed me,” I told Will in my best Yoda voice, and after he mocked me for five minutes straight, he complied and drove me straight to Taco Bell. He even paid.
“I’ll pay you back for that.” I pull out my taco.
“No, you won’t.”
“Yes, I will. I’m a woman of my words, Willy.”
“I’m not going to let you pay me back, control freak.”
Why do I sense I just started a never-ending nickname battle?
“How not to be controlling 101: shut up and learn to let people treat you every once in a while.” He pulls onto the highway.
A small grin stretches over my lips.
“Is that what this is? Why you wanted to hang out all night? You’re trying to fix me?”
“So what if I am?”
I toss a fry at him. “From what? Control? I’m not a prisoner.”
He picks up the fry that just landed on his jeans and lobs it into his mouth. Five-second rule? More like “I’ll eat anything if the floor’s clean enough” rule. Famished, I bite into my taco, nearly dropping sauce on my leggings in the process.
Will made a pit stop at a gas station so we could throw our clothes back on before raiding Taco Bell. I can’t seem to forget the cashier’s face when we walked in—Will shirtless, flaunting his six-pack, me pantless, rocking a knee-length T-shirt—and asked for the bathroom keys. What kind of fuckery is this, she was clearly thinking. And I couldn’t agree more. This night couldn’t be further from what I thought it would be.