Addicted To Him, page 11
“You got really high,” I tell him.
“Trust me. I know how to get high,” he says with a wink.
He’s probably referring to drugs. I don’t do them. Like, ever. I know Jake likes to drink. He’s hit a wax pen or smoked a joint with his friends, but nothing serious. Me, I don’t touch the stuff. I don’t even drink. Mom scared me straight from a young age.
“It’s your turn,” he says, grabbing hold of my hand and giving it a tug. “You should come in. The water feels good.”
“Eli, no. Eli!” I yelp, right as he pulls me all the way in. The temperature is a shock, but for only about a second. The water is actually fairly warm. Of course, it’s the end of summer so that’s what usually happens, though our pool is more on the cooler side since we live at a higher elevation.
“Hey, don’t be mad. At least I didn’t dunk you,” he says, his hands at my waist as he guides me into the deep end. I go with him, letting him take me.
Once I disengage from his hold, we float around the deep end for a while, the both of us treading water as I ask him about his game. He talks and talks, giving me all the details, and I have the sudden thought that I could tell Jake everything. Give him some hints as to how strong the Mustangs are, or where they’re weak. Like I’m some sort of spy.
But then I push the thought aside. I can’t do that. I would be totally breaking Eli’s trust. Plus, Jake would ask how I know all of this information and I wouldn’t know how to explain myself.
It’s best I leave that idea alone.
“You should jump into the pool for me,” he asks at one point. “Show me what you got.”
I slowly shake my head. “I’m not good at that stuff. The tricks or whatever.”
“Come on, Ava. You’re on the cheer team. Can’t you do a cartwheel into the pool?” he teases.
“Um, this is my first year of cheering so…no.” I smile.
He smiles too. “Give it a try.”
I contemplate him. Then decide what the hell.
Why not?
I get out of the pool and walk around to the deep end, feeling Eli’s gaze on me the entire time. I probably don’t look that attractive in the blue briefs and sports bra. I don’t have big boobs like my mom and sister, so I always felt like I lacked in that department.
But Eli is watching me as if I’m the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, and I must admit…
A girl could get used to this.
But a girl can also get inside her own head and start thinking of all the horrendous things that could happen to her if she miscalculates this jump and ends up oh…I don’t know. Cracking her head open? I stand there on the edge of the pool, nervous. Hopping from one foot to the other, contemplating what spectacular trick I could put together to impress Eli that would hurt me the least.
I come up with nothing.
“Come on,” he says encouragingly. “Just—jump in. I’ll catch you.”
“You will?” I sound pitiful. And this isn’t like me. All of us Callahans are pretty daring—well, Autumn not so much. Jake has absolutely no fear. Though at the rate Beck is going, he’s going to put all of us to shame.
Autumn’s much more cautious. I’m the one with the mouth. Who’s always got something to say.
Right now, I’m at a loss for words.
“Yeah.” He raises his arms above his head and waves his hands at me encouragingly. “Go for it, Ava. I’ve got you.”
I am ridiculous. I’ve never been afraid to jump in my pool. So why am I freaking out now?
Deciding to go for it, I take a few steps back, then run toward the pool and aim for Eli’s direction.
I go plunging into the water. So deep, my feet touch the bottom of the pool, before I push off the surface and rise, rise, rise to the top. My head breaks through the water to find Eli right in front of me, his hands finding my waist and pulling me in close. So close, it’s like I have no choice but to circle my arms around his neck.
And circle my legs around his hips.
His hands are at the small of my back and then they slide down. Farther down. Until he’s cupping my backside and pulling me in closer, until I can feel him.
Feel that he’s hard.
Hard for me.
My chest rises and falls and I keep my head bent, so I don’t have to look at him. Instead, I stare at his chest. His collarbone. The way the water droplets cling to his skin. I’m filled with the sudden urge to lick one of the drops off. I bet his skin is hot. I bet he tastes good.
“Ava.” His throat is thick with emotion, and I want to look at him.
But it’s like I can’t.
I slide my fingers into the wet hair at his nape. He starts to move through the water, and I go with him, never letting go, until my back bumps against the edge of the pool, startling me. A soft sound escapes me and I glance up to find him watching me, just as his head descends.
And his mouth lands on mine.
We’re kissing. And it’s just as good as I remember it. Maybe even better. We have less clothing on right now so I can feel him. Really feel him. His hot skin and the hard muscles beneath. He ravages my mouth with his own, devouring me as if he’s starving and I’m the only thing that can fulfill him.
Somehow, we’re not in the deep end any longer and he’s standing in the water, my back still pressed against the concrete edge, my legs still wound tight around his hips. His hands have returned to my waist, resting there for a minute. Maybe less. Before they slowly start to move up. Up. Up.
Until he’s touching me just beneath my sports bra.
I tear my mouth from his when he tries that, my breathing heavy, my eyes unfocused.
“I should go,” I tell him.
He rubs the corner of my mouth with his thumb, his gaze laser focused on my lips. “Not yet.”
“I won’t have sex with you in your pool,” I whisper.
“I don’t want to have sex with you in my pool,” he returns and I can’t help it.
I shove him away from me, almost violently.
His words make me angry. His actions. I’m not making any sense. I know this, but what just happened…
I didn’t want to happen. I knew I’d end up hurt and confused. This is what happens to me every time I’m with him. I want him. I hate him. He says something awful and I hate him even more. He tries to touch me and I feel pushed. Pushed too far.
It’s best if I just leave.
I stomp my way out of the pool and grab the towel I discarded earlier, wrapping it around my shoulders. I’m shivering. Not from the cold, but from my emotions, from our kiss, from the way he touched me. What just happened made me mad. Upset. I’m tired of feeling this way when it comes to Eli. I’m tired of putting myself into situations where I end up uncomfortable.
Vulnerable.
Like right now.
Turning my back to the pool, I hurriedly dry myself off as I make my way toward the pool house, hurriedly rubbing the towel over my hair, across my torso. Once inside, I grab my backpack from where I left it on the loveseat and dig a clean T-shirt out before I slip the shirt on. It immediately becomes damp from my drenched sports bra and briefs, but I can’t worry about it now.
I have to get out of here.
“Hey, hey, hey.” Eli appears in the doorway of the pool house, pausing for only a moment before he’s rushing toward me. I dodge away from him at the last second, scurrying through the door, my bare, wet feet slapping against the sidewalk as I make a run for the wooden gate.
“I have to go,” I call over my shoulder, hoping he doesn’t follow me. But hopes and wishes are made for fools because Eli is faster than a freakin’ cheetah. He catches up with me in seconds, grabbing hold of my arm and forcing me to a complete stop.
I made it to the driveway. My car is literally mere feet away from where we’re standing. So close.
So. Close.
“You can’t just kiss me and bail.” He’s dripping wet, and those black board shorts are riding extra low on his hips. As in, I can see his hip bones, and heaven help me, they’re kind of sexy. Bet I could catch a peek of pubic hair if those shorts dropped any lower. And any sign of an erection he had earlier is long gone.
I’m sure I’ve ruined everything.
Typical.
“I sounded like a total girl just now,” he says as he starts to chuckle, slowly shaking his head. “Kiss me and bail? Who am I?”
I could ask myself the same question.
“It’s late,” I tell him weakly. “I have to get home. I have a curfew.”
“Your parents know you’re here?” He raises a brow.
Pressing my lips together, I just look at him, not saying a word.
“Where do they think you are?”
I keep watching him. He waits patiently, never letting go of my arm. His hot fingers are like a brand against my cool skin and I can hear the water dripping off the both of us, falling in heavy plops onto the sidewalk. He knows. I can tell by the way he’s looking at me, he knows I’m full of crap.
“Ellie’s house,” I whisper.
“Your best friend?”
Nodding, I slowly pull myself out of his grip. “I’m going over there now.”
“Really?” The skepticism in his voice is obvious. He doesn’t believe me.
He shouldn’t. I’m lying right now.
“Yeah. She knows where I’m at,” I tell him, standing up straighter.
“You told your best friend you were coming over to my house after the game,” he says, the disbelief ringing clear.
“Yes, I did. What’s the big deal?” I lift my chin, aiming for confident. Most likely failing miserably. “She supports me no matter what.”
“No matter what…what?”
I blow out a frustrated breath. “Talking to you is like talking in circles. She doesn’t approve, okay? She thinks what we’re doing is wrong.”
I am totally putting my own feelings in this conversation and saying they’re Ellie’s. He has to see through this.
Through me.
“The weird thing about doing things that feel wrong,” he starts conversationally, taking a step forward and slipping his arm around my waist, yanking me close to him. I brace my hands on his hard chest, absorbing his heat despite the fact that he’s still dripping from the pool. “Is that they usually feel so damn good, you keep doing it anyway.”
His head drops. His mouth hovers just above my ear. I can hear—feel—him breathing. A drop of water falls from his hair and hits my cheek. He says nothing else, and I wait for him to make the next move.
He does nothing else. Just stands there and breathes me in. My body leans in closer to his as if I can’t help it. His arm tightens on my waist. Out of nowhere, panic seizes me, along with a healthy dose of confusion. I don’t know what I want anymore.
Is it Eli?
I’m not sure.
Carefully I work my way out of the magnetic hold he has over me.
“Not for me. Not tonight.” I step away from him, unzipping the front pocket of my backpack and pulling my keyless remote out. “I’ll see you later.”
“You so sure about that?” he asks. He sounds angry.
No. I’m not. I doubt I’ll ever come over here again. I doubt I’ll ever do anything with you again.
The brutal honesty of my thoughts cuts like a knife.
“This was a mistake,” I whisper. “Let’s just forget this ever happened.”
He says nothing. I climb into my car and take off, the tears streaming down my face the entire drive home. By the time I’m pulling into the driveway and park my car, I’ve finally stopped crying, though my nose is still congested. I grab my phone to see I have text messages from Eli.
The problem is I can’t forget you, Ava.
I don’t want to.
And you can’t forget me either.
We belong together.
You’ll see that someday.
And when you do.
I’ll be the happiest man on this entire fucking planet.
🖤
Thirteen
Eli
I spend the rest of the weekend alone. Pissed. Frustrated. Ava Callahan is a fucking tease. Acting all shy and trying to run away from me, only to jump into my pool and rub her hot little body all over mine, kissing me like I’m the only reason she can breathe. She had her hands all over me, her legs wrapped tight around my hips, practically grinding on my junk. Then she runs off like the scared little girl she really is, never to be heard from again. Despite my being one hundred percent real with her via text. I received zero response in return.
Such bullshit.
My anger feeds me throughout the weekend until Sunday evening, when a few of the guys from the team come over to swim and hangout. That’s code for drinking and passing around a blunt as we sit by the pool. Mom doesn’t care. She’s never been one to say, “But it’s a school night!”
Like she can judge.
She went over to her friend’s house down the street so they can drown their sorrows in red wine, crying over their pitiful divorces and coming up with a variety of devious ways to destroy their exes. At least she has a friend who’s going through the same thing, so they can commiserate together. Eventually she’ll come stumbling home around midnight with teeth stained a weird purplish color thanks to the wine she chugged and reeking of perfume because she thinks that’ll hide the fact that she’s drunk and that she smells like she’s fermenting.
Fun fact Mom: Your overpowering perfume doesn’t hide dick.
“You’re in a shit mood,” Brenden says to me, about twenty minutes into them showing up.
I take the blunt he’s passing my way and inhale sharply, holding the smoke in my lungs for as long as possible before I let it out. “Bad weekend,” I say on a cough.
He lowers his voice. “Your mom?”
Shrugging, I pass the blunt to Cory, a tall, skinny idiot who sits on the bench most of the football season but always manages to bring a case of beer with him whenever he hangs out with us. “She’s annoying.”
Ava Callahan is annoying too.
“Heard from your dad lately?”
Brenden is the only one who knows all my family bullshit. “I was supposed to go over to his place, but he called at the last minute and said he was out of town. On the coast. Code for taking one of his slutty girlfriends to the beach, so he can fuck her brains out to the rhythm of the waves,” I say bitterly.
Brenden shakes his head. “Your dad is a fuckin’ player. Just like you. Just like your brother.”
Yeah. Just like Ryan. Just like me. I haven’t played with anyone for months besides Ava, and I got nothing to show for it. Girl leads me on only to leave me hanging. I hate it.
I sort of hate her.
“Jackson is having a party next weekend,” Brenden says, gesturing toward the very guy we’re talking about. Jackson Rivers. Soulful motherfucker with long blond hair and bright blue eyes that work magic on the ladies at school. And when I say ladies, I mean all women. Our principal, teaching staff, office staff, the coaches’ wives and of course, the girls.
All the girls.
He talks a good game, kind of like me. While I’m the lovable goof who says inappropriate things, he’s the one who says all the right things in that melodic voice of his. Next thing he knows, they’re flinging panties in his face and begging him to fuck them. Rumor has it he banged a substitute teacher his sophomore year, but that’s never been fully confirmed or denied.
Oh, and he also plays the guitar and writes his own songs. Of course he does.
Lucky for him, we all love him. He’s a good football player and a loyal friend. He doesn’t take any shit from any of us. He’s one of my closest friends besides Brenden.
“And where is Jackson having this party?” I ask, grabbing one of the beers Cory handed to me and nearly drain it.
“His uncle has a cabin up by the lake. On the east side, near the old Johnson resort,” Brenden explains. “He’s having the party there Saturday night.”
“Why has he never had a get together there before?” I’m about to shout across the pool and ask Jackson myself, but Brenden answers my question.
“His uncle just bought it, I guess. Told me we should invite everyone we know,” Brenden says.
I finish off my beer and grab another one out of the crumpled box that’s nearby. I crack it open and slurp the foam up before I take a good, long pull. “Everyone, huh?” I ask after I swallow.
Brenden nods. “I’m definitely hitting up Kayla. Think she’ll go?”
I scoff. “You’ve been chasing that tail for a long ass time, bro. When you gonna give it up?” He’s had a thing for Kayla for years. While Kayla is a big ol’ tease, just like Ava.
Hmm. Should I invite Ava? I’d just be asking for trouble if I did. She probably wouldn’t even show. Or if she did, she’d let me kiss her for a while. Maybe even feel her up. Then she’d run, boo hooing all the way home.
Fuck that. I’m over it.
“Yeah well, it’s senior year, and my time with Kayla is now. I can feel it.” Brenden grins. He’s kind of a goofy looking son of a bitch, with all that reddish blond hair and freckles. Dark brown eyes with a major mouth on him. As in, he can talk a lot of shit. I think that might be my favorite quality of his. We’re both shit talkers. “I’m going to tell her how I feel. Next weekend, at the party. Maybe we can finally hook up, you know?”
He has a big mouth, but women don’t always respond well to what he has to say. He sort of lacks in that department. “Really? Cos you’ve been saying that for over a year now.”
“Fuck off,” he mutters, right before he sucks on his beer can. “What about Tara? You going to finally tap that?”
Tara Perkins. The one with perky tits, a perky face and fuck me lips. She started chasing after me last year. Took me to the Sadie Hawkins dance, and we had fun. I might’ve kissed on her a little, but we didn’t take it too far. Truth was she was still pining after her ex-boyfriend, who’s now graduated and gone. He broke up with her right before the Sadie Hawkins dance, so another girl could ask him out.
