Page 57 of A Little Bit Reckless
Earlier tonight, I lied when Sloane and the others asked if I wanted to see the movie. I said I didn’t want to even though itwas a rom-com with some of my favorite actors in it. But I opted out to basically stalk Wells tonight.
I wanted to talk to him.
We ended up doing more than talking, and all Bru did was nod at me before he moved the conversation on to how the movie was again. He lied to them too when he didn’t really lie either.
I guess now we were both liars.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
Wells
I needed to tell Thatcher what happened. He may hate me, but he’d hate me even more if I didn’t tell him what happened with his sister.
His sister.
I still couldn’t believe I did that. I touched her, and that wasn’t allowed. Especially when it came to me.
But she’s already been touched.
Somehow Rainbow Reed got one over on me. She knew the rules. The whole fucking world knew they weren’t supposed to touch her. She was a pariah, an outcast, and that was well known.
I made it well known.
I didn’t know how to fucking deal with that information, and I double didn’t know how to deal with the fact that I not only kissed her butgot off. That fucker Bru was the culprit, and if I wasn’t so busy needing to scrub the cum out of my boxers, I would have laid his ass out.
What the fuck?
There was so much wrong with what happened at the house, and Bru egged that shit on. Fuck, he’d been the damn ring leader.
“Give in to her, man.”
His rough voice in my ear had done that shit. He’d made megive into it, but this wasn’t some girl at a party. This was Thatcher’s sister, and it all was so fucked up.
I never told Thatcher.
I told myself I needed to, and even urged myself, but every time I saw my best friend over the next few weeks, I couldn’t make my mouth work. I had plenty of opportunities. We shared a couple classes together, and we’d gone to the gym together multiple times. But one of the other guys was always around. There’d be Ares or Dorian.
There’d be Bru.
Bru and I didn’t talk about what happened either, but that was because I was ignoring his ass like the plague. He kept giving me thislook. It bordered between we should talk, fuck, or both, and since I didn’t trust myself not to do the fucking part of that, I stayed away.
It was worse when Squeak was around.
Being around her was different now, heavy. She’d swish around in her little twill skirts acting all innocent, like she wasn’t the guilty party that started this whole thing. She fucking kissed me not once but twice, and I didn’t kiss girls. At least, I tried not to. I kept a barrier up between myself and women. Girls tended to be emotional and needy as shit. Kisses were different with women, which was why I avoided them when I could. Those lips were better for my cock as far as I was concerned.
I avoided Squeak too over the passing weeks because, when I didn’t, she also gave me a look. Her cheeks would get all red and her eyes would avert to Bru’s. His would get all fiery. Like everytime he looked at her, he was imagining shit he had no business imagining. Like he could taste her every time he saw her.
Bow’s face would get even more red in response, and then the pair would look at me. They’d both have that same fire, that same heat, like suddenly they were imagining shitwith me. My cock would twitch, and then, suddenly,Iwas imagining shit. I was imagining filling my best friend’s little sister with cock while I kissed my other best friend over her shoulder. I was smelling both feminine and masculine scents, and that feminine one took me over the edge. It made me remember things. It made me remember moments and countless summers. It made me remember stuff before things changed between us.
Shithadchanged though, and, even if it hadn’t, there was no way I was betraying Thatcher.
Even if I already had.
I pulled up to the Reeds’ the night of Dorian’s draft party in a tuxedo. The formal wear was necessary since Dorian’s parents were throwing a gala. He’d been drafted into the NFL.
How time flew.
