Boy Toy Chronicles
Page 8
I keep my eye roll to a minimum. “Clearly you can't protect yourself.”
She switches on the lamp on the nightstand—probably so I can see the fury flaming behind her eyes and the fire she's about to spit. “You know why I date the guys I do? Because they're the complete opposite of you. They come off charming and sweet. And they promise me the world and I fall for it. So what? I make mistakes. At least they're not cocky or obnoxious, and they don't sleep around—”
I push back the hurt and scoff at her words. “Obviously.”
She takes a calming breath. Or six. “You're my best friend, Tyler,” she says, her jaw pressed tight, “but I'd fucking hate to have you as a boyfriend. You can't hold down a girlfriend for shit. And I'd rather have my wrist ache, than my heart or my ego. I can't deal with that pain again.”
“That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard.”
“Maybe,” she says quickly. “But it's the truth.” And as I watch her face for any signs of a lie—there's not a single hint of one.
“Who the hell broke your heart so bad?”
Her face falls, along with her gaze. “No one.”
I move her hair away from her face so I can see her eyes clearly. Her cheeks are warm from the anger she has building inside her. “Who?”
She jerks out of my hold; her eyes clouded with tears again.
“Who, Allie?”
Reaching over me, she turns off the light and settles back into my arms. “It's not important, Ty.”
I curl my arm around her waist, resigned to the fact that this conversation's going nowhere. “Whoever he is—he's an asshole.”
“I know,” she mumbles. Her hand drifts up my chest, higher, past my neck and onto the bottom of my hairline, where she circles her index finger around my hair, knowing it helps me relax. “Thank you,” she whispers.
“For what?”
“For caring.”
“I'll always care about you, Allie.”
I look down at her the same time she tilts her head to gaze up at me. Our eyes lock, and for the first time in years, I let myself feel her and everything she is to me. I run the back of my fingers across her cheek and over her lips. She opens her mouth and kisses them gently. Her eyes stay on mine as she does it again. And again.
My heart's throbbing now.
So is my cock.
I remove my hand and, slowly, I replace it with my mouth. She gasps, holding her breath when I take her bottom lip between mine. My eyes drift shut when I feel her kiss back.
It only lasts a second before she pulls away. “Um…”
“Sorry,” I tell her, trying to cover how I truly feel. “It was uh…habit.”
“Habit?”
I nod as an indescribable ache forms in my chest and takes over my entire body. “Just—you—pretty girl in my arms and I…I'm sorry.”
She sits up. “It's fine.” She shrugs. “It's just a little awkward now. I might go sleep in Mel's bed. She won't be back tonight. Something about a wing-bitch.”
“Okay,” I say, even though I don't mean it. “I'll probably take off first thing in the morning. Early class. I won't wake you.”
“Okay,” she says.
“Okay,” I respond.
We stare at each other. My eyes on hers. Her eyes on my mouth.
“Okay,” she says again, but she seems distracted. Then she blinks once as if breaking a trance. She quickly climbs over me and into Mel's bed.
I wait until her breaths have settled and I assume she's asleep before getting dressed and starting the two-hour drive back home.
CHAPTER SIX
It's close to two in the morning by the time I get back and the house is dead, apart from Troy who's limping around just outside the bedroom doors. “What happened to you?”
“Mrs. Crocker has fat fingers.”
It takes a moment for me to work out what he's saying. “You let her finger your asshole?”
A pained moan escapes him and he starts to pace. “She said she'd pay double…said she saw it in a movie. It was supposed to make me come instantly.”
“And?”
“What?” he breathes out.
“Did you come?”
“No. I squealed like banshee and hauled ass out of there. I think half my insides are hanging out of my ass. Will you check?” he says, pants already down to his knees.
I throw my hands up and block the view, turning away just in case. “Fuck no. Get Shem to do it. He's pre-med.”
He pulls his pants back up. “And have to deal with that cocky Brit? I'd rather get a fucked in the ass with a bus.”
With a shrug, I open my bedroom door, glancing at my whiteboard quickly—there's a note from Chase:
Mrs. Fletcher says she needs to see you ASAP. Something about buyer’s remorse.
Once I'm in bed, I toss and turn for hours, thoughts of Allie invading my mind. We'd kissed once before—when we were twelve. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand when we were done. “Gross,” she'd whispered, eyeing me sideways.
I had agreed with her, because I didn't want her to know how I felt. Ten years later and it's the same fucking thing.
Also, if I ever find out who the fuck broke her heart, I'll find him, tie him up¸ and send him to Mrs. Crocker.
***
Somehow, I make it through two classes before falling asleep in my third—which just happens to be Biology.
She switches on the lamp on the nightstand—probably so I can see the fury flaming behind her eyes and the fire she's about to spit. “You know why I date the guys I do? Because they're the complete opposite of you. They come off charming and sweet. And they promise me the world and I fall for it. So what? I make mistakes. At least they're not cocky or obnoxious, and they don't sleep around—”
I push back the hurt and scoff at her words. “Obviously.”
She takes a calming breath. Or six. “You're my best friend, Tyler,” she says, her jaw pressed tight, “but I'd fucking hate to have you as a boyfriend. You can't hold down a girlfriend for shit. And I'd rather have my wrist ache, than my heart or my ego. I can't deal with that pain again.”
“That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard.”
“Maybe,” she says quickly. “But it's the truth.” And as I watch her face for any signs of a lie—there's not a single hint of one.
“Who the hell broke your heart so bad?”
Her face falls, along with her gaze. “No one.”
I move her hair away from her face so I can see her eyes clearly. Her cheeks are warm from the anger she has building inside her. “Who?”
She jerks out of my hold; her eyes clouded with tears again.
“Who, Allie?”
Reaching over me, she turns off the light and settles back into my arms. “It's not important, Ty.”
I curl my arm around her waist, resigned to the fact that this conversation's going nowhere. “Whoever he is—he's an asshole.”
“I know,” she mumbles. Her hand drifts up my chest, higher, past my neck and onto the bottom of my hairline, where she circles her index finger around my hair, knowing it helps me relax. “Thank you,” she whispers.
“For what?”
“For caring.”
“I'll always care about you, Allie.”
I look down at her the same time she tilts her head to gaze up at me. Our eyes lock, and for the first time in years, I let myself feel her and everything she is to me. I run the back of my fingers across her cheek and over her lips. She opens her mouth and kisses them gently. Her eyes stay on mine as she does it again. And again.
My heart's throbbing now.
So is my cock.
I remove my hand and, slowly, I replace it with my mouth. She gasps, holding her breath when I take her bottom lip between mine. My eyes drift shut when I feel her kiss back.
It only lasts a second before she pulls away. “Um…”
“Sorry,” I tell her, trying to cover how I truly feel. “It was uh…habit.”
“Habit?”
I nod as an indescribable ache forms in my chest and takes over my entire body. “Just—you—pretty girl in my arms and I…I'm sorry.”
She sits up. “It's fine.” She shrugs. “It's just a little awkward now. I might go sleep in Mel's bed. She won't be back tonight. Something about a wing-bitch.”
“Okay,” I say, even though I don't mean it. “I'll probably take off first thing in the morning. Early class. I won't wake you.”
“Okay,” she says.
“Okay,” I respond.
We stare at each other. My eyes on hers. Her eyes on my mouth.
“Okay,” she says again, but she seems distracted. Then she blinks once as if breaking a trance. She quickly climbs over me and into Mel's bed.
I wait until her breaths have settled and I assume she's asleep before getting dressed and starting the two-hour drive back home.
CHAPTER SIX
It's close to two in the morning by the time I get back and the house is dead, apart from Troy who's limping around just outside the bedroom doors. “What happened to you?”
“Mrs. Crocker has fat fingers.”
It takes a moment for me to work out what he's saying. “You let her finger your asshole?”
A pained moan escapes him and he starts to pace. “She said she'd pay double…said she saw it in a movie. It was supposed to make me come instantly.”
“And?”
“What?” he breathes out.
“Did you come?”
“No. I squealed like banshee and hauled ass out of there. I think half my insides are hanging out of my ass. Will you check?” he says, pants already down to his knees.
I throw my hands up and block the view, turning away just in case. “Fuck no. Get Shem to do it. He's pre-med.”
He pulls his pants back up. “And have to deal with that cocky Brit? I'd rather get a fucked in the ass with a bus.”
With a shrug, I open my bedroom door, glancing at my whiteboard quickly—there's a note from Chase:
Mrs. Fletcher says she needs to see you ASAP. Something about buyer’s remorse.
Once I'm in bed, I toss and turn for hours, thoughts of Allie invading my mind. We'd kissed once before—when we were twelve. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand when we were done. “Gross,” she'd whispered, eyeing me sideways.
I had agreed with her, because I didn't want her to know how I felt. Ten years later and it's the same fucking thing.
Also, if I ever find out who the fuck broke her heart, I'll find him, tie him up¸ and send him to Mrs. Crocker.
***
Somehow, I make it through two classes before falling asleep in my third—which just happens to be Biology.
