Page 182 of Ominous: Part 1
I think she senses my fascination, and it repulses her. I think she wants me to stay away from Eden.
Unlike what Eden may want to believe, I cannot charm every person I meet. I usually don’t even realize I’m trying, but Eden has made it abundantly clear what she thinks about my “rich boy” persona.
“Is that a threat?” she asks me, amused.
I glance at her thighs again, one leg still moving up and down. I imagine the taste of her skin on my lips last Friday. Slightly salty because Eden is always sweating. It’s fucking hot. “My dad is fine,” I say. “Your sassy attitude is not.”
She giggles, a pure sound. I can’t help myself when I reach for her, grabbing her leg between my fingers. Her muscles still beneath my touch, her skin hot, but she doesn’t pull away. She presses her hand on top of mine, like she wants me to stay.
I bite my lip, my eyes trained on the road, one hand on the wheel.
“You like my attitude.” Her words are low but fast, and I slide my hand up her thigh, her skirt gliding back as I do.
“Yeah. I do like your attitude.”
Her fingernails dig into the back of my hand.
“I like everything about you.” It’s the truth. I’m fuckingachingfor her, and I think if I fucked herbeforeI wrestled, it might be ideal, but then again, I could just be depleted. Maybe after. That could work. I keep dragging my hand up her leg, until I feel the material of her underwear. Cotton, soft, I want to slip my fingers beneath the elastic and finger-fuck her while I drive, but I think the feeling of her wet cunt around any part of me would cause me to wreck this fucking car.
I stop myself, the tightness in my chest enough to choke me.
She clears her throat, but the way she’s gripping my hand so tightly can’t hide the lust in her own bloodstream. “Is he going to ask me questions?”
For a second, I forget what the hell we’re talking about, then I realize she just bypassed my compliment, and she’s back to nervously thinking about my dad. Eden is dark and soft and full of nerves. I wonder what she’ll be like as she gets older. I hope to God I get to watch her come into her own.
“Probably,” I admit, “but he gets really into matches. You can ignore him if you want—”
“That would be rude.” She doesn’t let me finish. “I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m actually very polite, Eli Addison.” Her fingers press further overtop my hand, and she’s grinning at me as she sits up straighter. “Unlike you, I have manners.”
You sure fucking do.“Ignore my dad. It’ll be hot.”
“You want me to tempt your dad?”
I widen my eyes.“Eden.”
She ignores me completely. “You wouldn’t even know anyway until he came home tonight and told you to stop dating me.”
Dating.She didn’t even trip over the word. I’m not sure if our talk last week made it official despite the fact she ignored me for a day afterward, but she doesn’t backtrack like she did then when she said the word “girlfriend.” Warmth spreads through my chest, thinking of her as mine. I’ve always assumed it, since the first night we spoke in the library. The tension between us is something that can’t be neatly labeled but calling her “mine” is the closest I can get.
“He would never say that.” I squeeze her thigh. “Remember what I said?” I turn to her again, and see she’s smiling. It’s blinding, her smile. I like it almost as much as her anger from last week. The stormy look in her beautiful eyes like she wanted to hit me in the darkness of her car. It made me want toget hit.“You are probably the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“Probably?”She shakes her head, none of her nerves in her retort. “What the hell do you mean,probably?”
“Well, I mean…” I shrug, grinning. “Ididget this car, so, you know… you’re a close second.”
With that, she releases my hand, and smacking my chest with the back of her own. I laugh and hear her do the same, and it feels good, in this moment,to feel good.
* * *
I know Eden is beautiful.She’s fucking stunning, actually, from the thickness of her hair, to herass,to her strong nose and big lips and the colors in her eyes. Her slender arms and the curve of her hips, even the way she walks like she’s the most confident girl in the world.
It’s not up for debate how attractive she is, and I know I’m not the only person with eyes.
But despite the fact I know all of this, watching nearly every eye turn to gaze up at her as she strolls through the gymnasium of Roanoke High with her chin lifted and her shoulders rolled back, her hips swaying and her phone clutched in one hand, makes me wish everyone here was blind, save for me.
Even the parents quiet as she passes by, headed toward the far end of the bleachers where the away team is seated, Dad in the stands. He’s fixated on his phone for now, and I roll my eyes, breaking away from the laps we were running around the mat to head toward Coach and his wife.
“Water,” I say, and Coach pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers, bumping his glasses as he does. Ms. Pensky’s eyes are on Eden, a smile on the former’s lips, and I know they both know I don’t need water, besides which we have an entire cooler full of bottles beside Coach’s chair.
