Just Friends

  He slowly shakes his head, that spark in his gaze only intensifying. “My mom’s working tonight. My dad and my brother went out to dinner and then to the movies.”

  “So we’re all alone?” I should probably be nervous, but instead I’m…

  Excited.

  “Yeah, we are.” He pulls two beers out of the fridge and shuts the door with his bent arm. I go to him and take the one he offers me, cracking it open. “Want to see my room?” he asks.

  “Sure,” I say softly, ignoring the nerves bubbling in my stomach. He’s not wasting any time, is he? No one else around means no interruptions—just the two of us alone in this giant house.

  The night is suddenly filled with endless possibilities.

  He goes back to the fridge and grabs a couple more beers, and then I’m following Ryan up the sweeping staircase, admiring his broad shoulders and back, his lean torso, his butt. He’s got a nice body. He’s wearing black athletic shorts and a faded Nirvana T-shirt, his hair still damp, like he might’ve taken a shower before I came over. He smells good too, citrusy. Clean and crisp.

  “You’re lucky. I just cleaned my room yesterday,” he says as we stop in front of a closed door. “My parents were on my ass for weeks.”

  “So you spent your Saturday cleaning your room?” That makes him sound so…normal. “Don’t you have a housekeeper?” They all do, I swear.

  “Yeah, but I’m not going to let her come in my room and go through my shit. There are things I’ve hidden I don’t want anyone to find.” He grins as he pushes open his door. “Drugs, weed, my condom stash. You know, the usual.”

  I laugh as he waggles his eyebrows then takes a sip of my beer, entering his bedroom, which is huge and done in typical teenage boy style, only on a grander scale. A dark blue comforter covers his king-sized bed. Awards and plaques and posters cover the sky-blue walls and a tower of folded T-shirts sit on an overstuffed chair.

  The faint lemony scent is a reminder that he really did clean his room yesterday, and I glance around, see the open door that leads to a walk-in closet that’s sort of a mess. Another open door that is his bathroom. His room is like a tiny studio apartment. I even spot a mini fridge in the corner. All he needs is a microwave and he’d never have to leave.

  “So you have a condom stash, huh?” I ask as I walk around his room, stopping at the dresser. I run my fingers along the smooth wooden edge, checking out the framed photos sitting there. One is of him and who I assume is his younger brother—they look a lot alike. Another one is of his entire family, his parents proud and standing tall, their smiles large and showcasing perfectly straight teeth. Yet another photo of him and a bunch of people I don’t recognize, most likely from his old school. Cute girls who smile up at Ryan adoringly as they surround him like he’s some sort of god.

  A reminder of his other life.

  “Wanna see my stash?” He drains his beer and tosses the empty can in a nearby wastebasket. “It’s impressive.”

  “Ew.” I giggle and shove his shoulder because I don’t know how else to react. He thinks his condom stash is impressive? What does that even mean? I almost don’t want to know.

  “What? I’m just saying I have the ‘ridged for her pleasure’ style, sized extra-large.” His voice drops a couple of octaves, becoming devastatingly low. “Always thinking of you, Livvy.”

  I swear he’s testing my mood, seeing if I’ll freak out or not. “Sounds interesting. Will you share your secret stash with me?”

  He looks shocked. A surge of power runs through me at the realization that yes, I can surprise Ryan Bennett every once in a while. “Yeah, I’ll definitely share. But you’ll have to promise me something first.”

  I smile up at him. “What?”

  “Promise that you’re not going to let anything ruin your mood tonight, okay?” He shifts closer to me, his hand going to my cheek, fingers drifting along my jaw. “We’ve been on this endless loop of misunderstandings lately.”

  Hmm, that’s one way to put it. “I’m sorry for what happened yesterday, with you seeing me at Dustin’s. It really was nothing—”

  “I know,” Ryan says, interrupting me. “I’m over it.”

  “You are? Really?” I frown, remembering how angry he’d been. How Tuttle had seemed so amused over our little fight. “You just seemed so mad and I want to explain what happened.”

  “You don’t have to explain anything. Who am I to act like a jealous boyfriend, right? It’s not like we’re together or anything. We’ve flirted. We’ve kissed.” He shrugs those impressively broad shoulders and I stare at him, hating how this conversation has turned.

  “Okay.” I take a deep breath, my brain scrambling to come up with something, anything to change the subject, but then he’s right there. Standing directly in front of me, taking the beer out of my hand and setting it on the dresser. He cups my face, tilts my head back, and I meet his gaze, his eyes dark and full of intent.

  His mouth is on mine before I can say another word or draw another breath. His soft lips coax and tease, keeping the kiss light at first, then taking it deeper, his tongue sweeping into my mouth, his thumbs gently brushing over my cheeks. I sigh against his lips, my hands resting on his hips, hanging on to the hem of his T-shirt. He nudges me against the dresser, the sharp edge digging into my lower back, but I don’t feel the pain.

  All I can focus on is the texture and taste of Ryan’s lips, the hypnotic way they move against mine.

  He breaks the kiss, his mouth running along the length of my neck, at the top of my shoulder, lips hot against my throbbing pulse. My heart is racing and I keep my eyes tightly closed, reveling in the sensations of his mouth on my skin, his hands at my waist, stroking slowly up and down my sides, getting closer to my chest with every sweep.

  “I can’t stop thinking about you,” he murmurs close to my ear, his warm breath making me tremble. “Stupid Cannon ruined everything Friday night.”

  I smile as he pulls away to watch me, his gaze locking with mine. “He never even said he was sorry.”

  “The guy is a selfish asshole.” Ryan studies my chest, my cleavage on display thanks to my pushup bra and the scooped neckline of my dress. He reaches out, his index finger skimming along the spot where dress meets skin, and goose bumps rise with his touch. “You like that?” His hot gaze meets mine.

  I nod, breathless.

  His finger dips below the fabric, tracing the lacy edge of my bra. “I really like your dress, but I’d rather see you with it off.”

  He doesn’t give me a chance to respond. Next thing I know I’m on the bed and he’s bent over me, his body caging mine in, our mouths fused, hands busy. His fingers move under my skirt, skimming up my thigh, and I spread my legs, sucking in a sharp breath when those same fingers brush the front of my panties.

  I clutch at his T-shirt, the fabric gathered tightly in my hands as he strokes me there. Back and forth. Up and down. Never dipping beneath my panties, he patiently teases me, driving me out of my mind so my hips lift, seeking more. He presses harder, drawing tight circles, rubbing, rubbing, rubbing…

  He withdraws his hand, making me whimper. My eyes fly open to find him lifting away from me.

  “Take the dress off,” he says gruffly as he whips off his shirt, tossing it onto the floor. I stare at him, drinking in his broad chest, his rippling abs. He’s built perfectly, even more cut than Dustin…

  God. I banish Dustin from my head, pissed that I’d even make the comparison. Focusing on Ryan, I shift so I’m kneeling in the middle of the bed. Biting my lip, my gaze never leaving his, I grab my skirt and slowly pull it up, peeling my dress off until I’m in front of him wearing only my black pushup bra and matching black panties.

  Ryan’s gaze bounces everywhere, like he doesn’t know where to look first, and heat washes over my skin. He pounces, pressing me into the mattress, his smooth skin hot on mine, his wandering hands making me shiver as he kisses me hungrily. I touch him just as eagerly, slipping my fingers under his shorts
, the elastic band of his boxer briefs. He groans against my mouth, pinning me in place so he can thrust his hips against mine, and oh God, I can feel him.

  He’s big. Hard. Driving me insane. We’re a writhing mess, his fingers sliding between my legs, mine diving beneath his underwear, our legs entwined. I’m panting, he’s panting, our kiss turns sloppy, all teeth and tongue and moans, and then I feel the heady rush sweep over me, making me shake, making me cry out.

  Making me forget everything.

  Ryan holds me close, one strong arm still slung around my waist, his mouth pressed against my forehead. I take deep breaths, desperate to calm my racing heart, and then he’s kissing me. Touching me again. Trying to take my panties the rest of the way off as he murmurs, “I need to dip into my condom stash.”

  “Wait.” I brace my hands against his sweat-dampened chest, stopping him. He lifts his head, his questioning gaze meeting mine. “I’ve—I haven’t done this before.”

  He frowns, his brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m a—I’m a virgin.” I press my lips together, waiting for his reaction. I didn’t mean to tell him this soon after…everything, but he wasn’t wasting any time. I had to put a stop to him before everything got out of hand.

  I’m willing to do this—mess around. But I’m not ready to make that next step yet.

  When he still hasn’t said anything I roll away from him, facing the wall, feeling stupid. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you sooner. I just…it’s not an easy thing to talk about or bring up, you know? It feels weird, talking about it.”

  “Hey.” He touches my shoulder, gently tugging on it so I roll back around to face him. “You don’t need to apologize. I’m not mad or anything.”

  “You’re not?”

  He slowly shakes his head, smiling faintly. “I’m glad you told me. I want us to be honest with each other. I—I really like you, Livvy.”

  My heart soars, I swear. Like it wants to fly out of my chest. “You do?”

  “Yeah.” He leans in and presses the softest, sweetest kiss to my lips before he murmurs, “I do. I know I’ve been shitty sometimes, but my feelings for you, they messed with my head.”

  I reach up to touch him, running my fingers through his silky soft hair. “What do you mean?”

  “I didn’t want to like you as much as I do.” He kisses me again, his lips lingering, teeth nipping lightly on my bottom lip and making me gasp. “But it’s too late. I’m totally into you.”

  “I’m totally into you too,” I whisper just before he greedily kisses me. He reaches for my hand, placing it in front of his underwear, and I can feel him. My fingers curl, learning the shape of him, and he rests his hand on top of my head. Gently.

  I know what he wants.

  And I’m going to give it to him.

  “Oh my gosh, you’re freaking glowing!” Amanda yells from her open window, grinning at me as I approach her car. The birds are chirping and the breeze is cool as it washes over me. For some weird reason the start of the first full week of September has ushered in cooler weather, which is unusual for California.

  But it’s nice. It feels like change is in the air. And I feel changed—thanks to Ryan.

  I climb into Amanda’s car and slam the door shut before I turn to look at her, smiling. “Ryan and I are official.” I drop my backpack on the floorboard and lean back against the seat.

  Her mouth drops open. “What do you mean?”

  “We’re a couple!” I’m practically bouncing with excitement and I almost clap my hands together like I’m five. “We, um, we were together Sunday night and we spent all of Monday together too.” He invited me over to his house on Labor Day and we hung out with his parents and his little brother, who was sweet and clearly idolizes Ryan, though he treats Eli like shit.

  “What did you guys do exactly?” Amanda’s tone is sly as she puts her car into drive and pulls away from the curb.

  “Well, you can only imagine what happened Sunday night. No one came home ’til around midnight.” My cheeks go hot and I duck my head. I snuck out of the house just before his dad and brother came home so they wouldn’t catch us together.

  “Did you…” Amanda sends me a pointed look.

  “Did I…” I wave my hand. “What?”

  “Did you two have—sex?” She whispers the word, like it’s extra dirty and she can’t say it out loud.

  I burst out laughing. Amanda’s so silly. “Well, we did hook up. But we didn’t do the deed.” Yet.

  “Gotcha.” She nods, seeming to digest what I told her. “And what happened on Monday?”

  I told her all about it. The barbecue in Ryan’s backyard, hanging out with his family, swimming in his huge pool, his mother saying again and again how she was so happy Ryan had a new girlfriend. Though I wasn’t so sure how I felt about that particular statement.

  “Wow, you guys do sound like you’re for real,” Amanda says with wonder when I stop talking.

  “That’s because we are for real.” I smile and stare out the passenger-side window. I sound smug because I am smug. I can’t help it. Right now, I’m on top of the freaking world, and it’s all because of Ryan. “He would’ve driven me to school but he had an early morning practice.”

  “Aw, that’s too cute. I’m happy for you, Liv.” Amanda’s voice is soft, almost sad. I quickly glance over at her to see that she even looks sad. “Just when we’re beginning to get close, you go and find yourself a boyfriend. I know you’ll ditch me and I shouldn’t say this, because it sounds selfish and I’m not selfish, I swear, but…”

  “Stop. I’m not going to ditch you,” I say, reaching out to briefly touch her arm. “You’re part of the crew now. We’ll all hang out together at lunch, after the games, whenever.” I’m making assumptions. I don’t even know if I’m part of the crew, whatever that means—the popular group? Do Amanda and I get to sit at their table in the quad during lunch? Will we all cruise over to Pac Out when we want to get off campus and eat giant cheeseburgers with extra salty fries?

  “The crew?” Amanda laughs. “I don’t think I’d fit in with that group.”

  “Tuttle wants you there.” She goes stiff at the mention of his name. Again, I’m making assumptions, but the guy has been chasing her since school began. “Why won’t you give him a chance?”

  “What are you even talking about? Like I said, Tuttle isn’t my type. I don’t fit in with his group and I definitely don’t fit with him,” she says, gripping the steering wheel tight. “I’m glad you and Ryan are together, but don’t try and pair me up with Tuttle. It’s never happening.” Her voice is firm and her expression is totally hostile. Guess she really means it.

  “Again,” I add quietly, just to be a brat. Reminding her that once upon a time, something did happen with her and Tuttle.

  The irritated noise she makes tells me I made my point. “Whatever,” she mumbles as she pulls her car into the senior parking lot.

  For some magical, wonderful reason, Ryan’s waiting for me at my locker before first period starts, just like I’d secretly hoped he would be. His being there is a statement, one that everyone will notice. He’s staking his claim—as in he’s claiming me. And I couldn’t be more thrilled about it.

  The moment he spots me, sending me one of those chin-nod things boys do, I smile in return, hoping I don’t look too eager. It takes everything within me not to skip over to where he’s standing and throw myself at him.

  He drops a quick kiss on my lips when I reach him, his gaze locked on mine. “Morning.”

  “Good morning,” I return, beaming like an idiot.

  Tuttle chooses that moment to pass by, with Dustin of all people. “Gag,” Tuttle mutters straight toward us, just before he and Dustin crack up.

  I watch as they walk away, frowning. I knew they were sort of friends, but they’d never been what I’d call close. Who does Tuttle ever really hang out with? Guys from the football team most of the time, or any boy who’s an athlete. So I guess tha
t means Dustin counts.

  “Tuttle’s an asshole,” Ryan says as he watches them walk away too.

  “I thought you two were friends?” I glance up at him.

  He shrugs, irritation written all over his face. “He mostly keeps to himself—unless he wants to cause trouble.”

  Unease slips down my spine at his words and I turn to my locker, entering in the combination before opening it. “What do you mean, trouble?”

  “Trust me, you don’t want to know.” He presses a quick kiss to my cheek, making me smile. “But maybe you should tell your friend to keep away from him.”

  “Are you talking about Amanda?” I shove a couple of books in my locker before I slam it shut. “Why should she stay away from him?”

  “Like I said, you don’t want to know. Just—trust me, okay?” He wraps his arm around my shoulder and steers me so we head down the hall. “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do? Trust your boyfriend?”

  I gaze up at him, staring into his dreamy green eyes. “Are you calling yourself my boyfriend?”

  “I thought we already established that?” He leans in for another kiss but then pulls away when he spots a scowling teacher nearby. “The anti-PDA rules suck.”

  Laughing, I lean into him, absorbing his warmth, his strength. Have I ever been this happy? Did I ever think things would turn out like this for Ryan and me? I might’ve wished for it, but I never thought this could be my reality.

  I’m practically floating on a cloud a few minutes later when I enter the girls’ bathroom. Ryan’s class is down another hall and I want to check on my makeup anyway. My eyeliner always seems to smudge off.

  The moment I enter the bathroom, one of the stall doors open and Em walks out, her expression sour, her lips a deep, rich red and her hair a mess. Her gaze meets mine and she rolls her eyes, her upper lip curling in disgust. “Where’s your boyfriend?” she singsongs.

  I have the worst luck. Why do I always run into her in the bathroom? “Why didn’t you ever call me this weekend?”

  She goes to the sink and starts washing her hands, her gaze meeting mine in the mirror. “What are you talking about?”