Page 22 of A Little Bit Reckless
Why the fuck you thinking about her?
I took a swig of the beer in my hand as my former friend walked up on me. Former, because he was really messing with that friendship now.
He was checking me out too.
Bru did a visible once-over on me. His dark eyes definitely lingered over the fit of my Pembroke Football hoodie and where my low jeans sat as well. His attention rested on my cock, and it twitched. A fuckingsemifollowed, and it was effortless.
Fucking hell.
I didn’t like that shit. I didn’t like that Ithought about shitthe moment Bruno’s scent was in my nose. The first time we kissed, I thought it’d been an accident. It wasn’t the first time a seemly straight dude went to experiment when we were fucking a chick together. I seemed to have that effect on people, so it happened a time or two. Dudes got caught up in the thrill of a threesome, but I never had any desire to be anyone’s gay awakening. That shit had happened too, and, with Bru, I thought us brushing lips during a threesome had been an accident. I hoped it was because we were friends, and I didn’t think either one of us wanted to mess any of that up.
But then more happened.
My best friend and I deep dived into something we had no business venturing into. I may have been gay, but I only ever saw my friends as brothers. Ares, Dorian, and Thatcher were my brothers, but I wasn’t feeling like that with Bru. It wasn’t like that with Bruat all, and each time shit went down between us,I knew this wasn’t some experiment or gay awakening for him. Bru knew how to touch. He knew howto suck.
And he also knew how to submit.
Like he knew I was thinking about all that, he smirked again, and that shit heated my blood. What I wouldn’t give to take him into a room and teach his ass a lesson.
I had before.
“I guess the same thing as you,” he said, answering my previous question. My eyes narrowed, and he bumped a laugh from his Superman chest before taking a drink. I knew this game he was playing. Shit, I taught him how to play it. We fucked a lot of girls together before anything happened between us.
Bru lowered his beer. “How’d your tutoring session go with Bow? Sloane mentioned you guys were meeting today. Bow told her.”
And for some reason he thought that was his business.
I shook my head. “I wouldn’t know since she didn’t show up today.”
That really surprised me too. Her motivations had been clear. She was using me, and though that may surprise someone else, it didn’t me. That was that girl’s MO. She was drama, and she was also selfish.
Bru’s cocky expression wiped away. He gazed down at his beer, sloshing it around.
I tipped mine at him. “What’s your deal?”
I knew Bow had him fooled too, like she was innocent, flawless. She may fool everyone else with her sweet-little-girl act, but she didn’t me.
She never would.
I had to live every day with that shit that happened in high school. I had to see a girl drown and therapy couldn’t even help relieve those images in my head. A family lost a daughter thatsummer, and I died that day too. I had to in order to cope and freaking function every day.
Bru’s attention turned to me about the same time the bottle went tight in my hand. I thought I’d crush it in my grip, but his focus on me distracted me. He shook his head. “I wish you’d lay off her, and honestly, I have no idea why she’s helping you.” He took another drink, his swallow hard. “You’re an asshole.”
That last bit was under his breath but not enough that he didn’t want me to hear it. I approached him, and the bottle left his lips. I put a finger in his chest. “You don’t know shit about that girl, and you definitely don’t know shitabout meand that girl.”
He didn’t, and though I put it in my past, daily, it kept cropping up. It had last night, actually. I had another fucking dream about it, about how I was too late. Abouthow I failedand also something else I’d never talk about.
I refused to talk about the itch in the back of my mind that day. It was a recurring thought I had. A feeling hit me that day when I found out that girl who drowned wasn’t Thatcher’s sister. It was a deep feeling, a hard pulse in my chest, and, though it should have been about Thatcher, it wasn’t. I wouldn’t talkor thinkabout that feeling I had that fucked-up summer, that relief.
If I did, it’d make me as fucked up as Bow Reed.
My finger was making an attempt to drill a hole in Bru’s chest. I stabbed into the fucker hard, but for some reason, that didn’t faze him. His lips turned down. “Wells?”
Wells.
“Did something happen? Between you and Bow, I mean,” he asked, suddenly scanning my eyes, and I hated that shit, his concern. Dude liked to fuck with me, but he also cared about me. The feeling was mutual, as much as I hated to admit it. He touched my arm. “Wells?”
If this dude didn’t stop saying my name like that…
