Page 10 of Falling for You
I shrug. “Just do what I do. Remember that these people are all grade A assholes and what they do or say doesn’t really matter in the long run. You’ll get out of here one day and these people will just be a tiny blip in your past, not even a big hump.”
She looks over at me and our gazes meet again. She’s so close that I follow the movement of her tongue as she licks her lips. “That’s what you do, huh? And it always works?”
I swallow thickly and think about the times that I hear my name being whispered when I walk by or the snickers of people I don’t know. “Honestly, no. But sometimes it helps.”
She takes a deep breath and I can feel the movement. Unfortunately, every part of my body has become hyper-aware of her body. Perks of being a perverted young guy, I suppose. She’s so curvy and I can feel her heavy breasts against my side. Our faces are so close that it would only take the slightest move for me to kiss those pouty lips of hers. Shadows are beginning to form, but I can make out every freckle across her nose and I can almost feel how soft those lips would be.
Her eyes are wide as she stares at my lips. Is it weird that in my twenty years I’ve never felt this nervous before about kissing someone? I usually move so fast that I can’t even remember the first kiss. They all blend together. But right now, sitting with her, I want a first kiss more than anything else in this world. I know it will mean something.
A loud bang makes us both jump. “Fuck Brad, and his fuckin’ dick. He can stick it in whoever he wants!” I hear a very drunk Marissa stomp out onto the back porch. I sit there for a moment thinking maybe she won’t see us and we can continue where we left off. Unfortunately, we hear several other girls slam the back door behind her and begin shouting. We pull away from each other and scramble up.
“Looks like we’ve been rudely interrupted. You want to go back inside? Maybe get away from the ‘Brad’s a dick’ girl talk that’s about to happen?” I ask. I really don’t want to go inside and say goodnight, but the last thing I need is someone like Marissa sticking her nose in my business.
“Yeah, sure, I’m tired anyway. Let’s go.” I take her hand and we cross the yard. I step onto the porch and open the screen door. Marissa glares blearily at us as we step onto the porch. She sways as she glances down at our joined hands.
“Oh great, just what this weekend needs. The bad boy and nerd girl hooking up. Could y’all get any more cliché?” She indicates us with a wave of her hand. I tug Ronnie’s hand harder so we can get inside before Marissa spills any more venom.
We turn to face each other when we get to the bottom of the stairs. “Well, I guess I better get back to work. Please let me know if any of them bother you again. I’ll try my best to not turn back into douche mode.” I give her what I hope is a charming smile. My mouth is so unpracticed from being in a permanent sneer the last few years that I’m not sure if it looks charming or manic.
Her gaze looks so uncertain and frightened that I squeeze the hand that’s still in mine. She lets a deep breath out and shoots me a small smile.
“I think I’ll go back up to my room and hide for the rest of the night. Thank you for being my rescuer, Sawyer Rodriquez.”
I bow deeply. “No problem. I’ve never gotten to be the white knight before so it was actually a good change of pace. Normally I’m the guy in the black hat, not the white one, so I thank you for the opportunity.” I tip my imaginary white hat towards her.
She giggles and starts up the stairs. I grasp onto her fingers tightly again. “I think you’re forgetting something.”
“Wh..what?” Her fingers twist around mine and I know she’s thinking about our almost kiss.
“Your notebook, m’lady.” I take out the notebook that has been stuck in the back pocket of my jeans and hand it to her. “When you’re a famous writer, I want a book dedication. Just so you know.”
She lets go of my hand and grasps the notebook tightly to her front. “Of course, to Sawyer, my white knight and the king of smooth pick-up lines.” Her mouth turns up on one side and she turns around to climb the stairs.
“Goodnight, my fair lady.” She sneaks a look back at me. I hold both hands up to cover my heart. “Alas, I’m trying to think of a romantic line from Shakespeare’s plays but I slept through most of English, so all I can say is sleep well, my dear.” She turns around and laughs heartily as she runs the rest of the way up the stairs.
I’m still grinning as I walk away. The partygoers seem to have scattered, probably headed to get into more trouble somewhere else, and I sigh heavily. For a moment, when I was with Ronnie, I forgot all about my depressing lot in life. God, it was nice to forget.
Chapter Eight
No book boyfriend has ever disappointed me. All high school boys have done is constantly let me down. And they call me crazy for always having my nose stuck in a book. -Ronnie
Ronnie
I barely sleep that night. Everyone is up until the wee hours of the morning except for me so it isn’t exactly quiet. That really has nothing to do with why I don’t get much sleep. I keep replaying that almost kiss with Sawyer. I don’t know how to feel about him. He was so closed off and angry when we first met, but so sweet last night. I almost got whiplash from the personality change. It didn’t feel like he was being fake though.
It’s early morning when I get out of bed and explore the cabin. The fact that anyone can call this a log cabin still makes me laugh. Brad either downplayed his parents’ cabin or doesn’t really understand that most of us would never be able to afford a vacation home like this. My guess is the latter. This cabin was probably described by some very distorted realtor as ‘rustic’, when truthfully it’s anything but. It’s several thousand feet of opulence, with a hot tub and a private gym to boot. The soaring ceilings are criss-crossed with wooden beams. Windows along every wall let in the view of the expansive lake.
I snuggle into a comfortable reading chair in the massive library that I find while I’m exploring. I’m not sure this library houses the kind of romantic smut I love to read, so I’m glad I brought my book on this trip. I know, I know. According to Sam, I’m supposed to be living my best life as an eighteen-year-old wild child right now. But, frankly that’s not me. I’m an old soul and I like early mornings, coffee, and books with a plot. Well, with a plot and a bit of erotica, so maybe I’m an old soul with a little kink to her at least. For the first time since I arrived here, I breathe easily.
The amount of alcohol the others drank last night assures me that they probably won’t stir until noon. I run my fingers through my long, wavy red hair and sigh. Why the hell am I here? I don’t have anything in common with these people and last night was awful, with the exception of the short encounter with Sawyer. I would rather hide in this library all day then have to deal with those people again.
Why did Brad invite me here? Why did he suddenly start chasing me to only abandon me when I got here? I’m still mystified and disgusted by his behavior. He sleeps soundly in one of the many bedrooms upstairs, probably with the girl he hooked up with last night. Hopefully, he wakes up with a massive hangover that makes him feel like the bonehead he is.
I have to face facts. Bradley is the asshat that I originally thought him to be. He chased me relentlessly for the last month, and like the innocent I am, I had fallen for every one of his cheesy lines.
I shake my head and lift the cup of coffee to my lips. I should have known better. I was forbidden fruit at my school. Hence, the only reason the quarterback of the football team would want to bang a nerd like me. Guys sometimes try to get in my pants, if only so they can bag Principal Hester’s daughter and brag about it. I’m usually able to block them out and quietly shoot them down. I’m not called the ice queen by the cheerleaders for nothing.
If they only knew…My thoughts aren’t that innocent. I just haven’t met anyone I feel safe enough to indulge my fantasies with. I assume my thoughts are on par with most teenage girls my age, even if I don’t have the experience they do. I’m familiar with getting myself off, and I lust after broad shoulders and muscled chests like most girls do. Sam and I had even taken a trip to the novelty store on my eighteenth birthday to buy vibrators. Granted, I was more embarrassed that day than I had ever been in my entire life, but I got one. It still sits in my drawer, untouched. I’ll get around to using it one day when my horniness overcomes my fear.