Changing Forever (16 page)

Before I can take another step, Cole’s in front of me, eyes blazing. “I don’t think she wants to leave with you.”

“She came with me. Now get out of my way, Dillon. She’s fine,” I seethe. I just want to get the fuck out of here.

He glances back at Emery, and then steps out of my path, allowing me to walk past.

“Are you sure you don’t want to leave with Olivia?” I hear her faint voice behind me.

I stop, looking back. “What?”

She looks hurt. Genuinely hurt. “I saw you with her earlier. She must be good enough to be seen with here.”

Something snaps inside me. We continue to fight our way through the crowd, but before we reach the door, I change the plans. She tries to pull away from me, but I don’t let her. Maybe it’s the two drinks I’ve had or the emotion I’m drowning in, but I find myself pulling her into the half bath off the living room. The look on her face when my eyes catch hers again is one of shocked surprise.

When we’re both inside, I push the door shut, reaching behind her to lock it. She doesn’t take her eyes off me, and I can’t take mine off her. This girl … I don’t know what she’s doing to me.

“You’re good enough, Emery. In fact, you’re too fucking good for me. Don’t you get it? I want you so bad right now, but I’m fighting it because you
should
be with someone like Cole. He can be what you need … I can’t.”

Her eyes widen as she stares at me. “He’s not the one I want.”

Grabbing her hips, I pull her body so it’s flush against mine. She trembles in my hold, but the hungry look in her eyes begs me to continue.

I run my fingertips up her sides, feeling the smooth texture of her t-shirt against my skin. Her chest heaves as my lips move toward hers. She’s hesitant. I feel it. I see it. This isn’t the first time I’ve done this to her, or the second.

I stop when my lips are so close to hers, one might think we’re actually touching. Her warm breath tickles my skin, making it impossible to think. “I’m going to kiss you.”

She nods, resting her palms against my chest. And I do. First brushing my lips across hers, then holding them there, getting used to the feel of her skin. As my tongue traces the seam of her lips, my fingers find the hem of her shirt, moving up inside to caress her smooth stomach.

It’s the first time, in over a year, I’ve kissed a girl when I wasn’t completely drunk. And even though it’s been a while, I don’t remember it ever being like this. My whole fucking body trembles with need … one I’ve been fighting for far too long.

“Emery,” I groan as I pull my shirt over my head, “I want this so fucking much.”

She responds by wrapping her arms around my neck, pulling me closer. Even with her shirt between us, I feel her breasts pressed against my chest. It heightens my need, making me lose control of the rational part of my brain.

I run my hands down her back, stopping when they reach her perfect
ass. Lifting her in my arms, I seat her on the edge of the sink and step in between her parted legs. My cock twitches when I press my body into hers. I want all of her.

My tongue moves with hers before traveling down her throat, tracing a line along her collarbone. “You taste so fucking good. So good,” I say, my lips moving along the center of her throat.

She moans as I roll my hips against hers, creating the friction I’ve been craving. “Drake.”

I need more. I want to taste more of her warm skin, to feel it against mine. Grabbing the bottom of her shirt on both sides, I begin pulling it up.

“Stop!” she yells, pushing against my chest. I freeze in place, wondering what the fuck just happened. This moment was
more real than anything I’d experienced in a long time. For once,
I’d let myself follow my heart, and it led me to her.

“Not tonight,” she adds, her palms still resting against my skin.

I lift my head, allowing me to see into her big brown eyes. There’s so much confusion in them, so much pain. I just want to make it all go away. “I can’t,” she whispers.

I cradle her cheek in my hand, caressing her soft skin with my fingertips. “I didn’t mean to push you.”

She tightly closes her eyes then opens them again. “I want to. I just … I can’t.”

Before I realize what I’m doing, my mouth is closing in on hers again. Just hearing her say that she wanted me fuels the fire
that I’m finding impossible to put out. My lips brush against hers, but then stay frozen, waiting to see if she pulls back.

When she doesn’t, I brace my hands against the wall on either side of the mirror, effectively caging her in. It’s the only way I can keep my fingers from touching her soft skin. As my tongue presses between her lips, she scoots to the front of the sink, pressing our bodies close again.

After a few minutes of tugging and teasing, my lips move to the sensitive skin below her ear. “Do you want to stop?” I ask, nipping her earlobe between my teeth.

“Just kissing, Drake. Nothing more.” I pull on her earlobe again, enjoying the moan that escapes her lips.

“I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give me right now,” I whisper, pressing my lips back to her skin.

She’s so controlled, but I’m crumbling a little more every time I’m with her.

H
IS
LIPS
ONLY
TOUCH
MY
NECK
, but the tingle runs down the entire length of my body. Ten minutes ago, I was pissed off, and now I’m struggling to keep it from going any further. I’ve never felt this way before. No control. No worries.

It feels so damn good.

I’ve written him off a few times, but he keeps coming back, and there’s a reason I let him. I see through him … there’s a raging fight going on inside of him. He’s struggling. I’m struggling. We’re both addicted to the fight.

His thumb brushes across my breast, and that action, coupled with the friction of him pressed between my legs, gently rolling his hips against me, pushes my body over the edge. He covers my lips with his, swallowing my moans. It’s euphoric … the first time I’ve ever had an orgasm without the help of my own fingers. With passion, it is so much better, so much more intense.

As my body winds back down, he covers my face in light kisses, rubbing his hands in circles on my back. I should be relaxed, but the tension is returning … this is where the awkwardness starts to seep in. Should I return the favor? Does he expect me to? Do I even want to?

“What’s going through that pretty little head of yours?” he whispers so close to my ear, I feel his breath.

“Who said I was thinking?” I reply, trying to keep my voice even.

Brushing my hair behind my shoulder, he exposes my neck. “Your body is tense. Let me fix that for you.” His lips press to my exposed skin while he uses his fingers to lift my chin, giving him access to my throat.

He continues, tracing where his lips were with the tip of his tongue. Slowly, all my worries begin to fade away. This isn’t a test. It doesn’t require a study guide or a plan. It’s about us, locked in a moment.

When I’m relaxed again, he pulls back. I miss his kisses almost instantly. After helping me straighten my clothes and pulling his own shirt back over his head, he grips my hips and slides me down off the sink. “
We should probably get out of here before someone needs to use the bathroom the way it was intended,” he says, a sexy grin
showing on his face.

I nod, returning his smile. “
Did you have something in mind?” Right about now, I’d go just about anywhere with him.

As he watches me, watching him, something changes in his eyes. He’s leaving me again, pulling back. “I should probably get you home,” he says, scrubbing his hand over his face.

For the first time since he pulled me into this bathroom, he’s not touching me. He’s not looking at me. He’s checking out again; we’ve gotten to the point where I feel it coming. My chest instantly tightens, making it almost impossible to keep the uneasiness out of my voice as I grip the doorknob and pull it open. I’m going to be the one doing the running this time. “It looks like we’re done here anyway.”

Maybe I’m expecting him to grab me and tell me I misunderstood. Maybe I want him to ask me what’s wrong so I can release weeks of pent up anger. But he doesn’t. Why would he when he knows exactly what’s bothering me? The apologetic look on his face when I glance back over my shoulder tells me that much, but I still feel used. Like sometimes I’m good enough for him to take the next step with, but not good enough to take the one after.

I push past the crowd of students who have gathered in front of the door and make my way down the front steps without looking back again. I should be able to walk home; it’s not that cold outside and from my recollection, we can’t be more than a mile from campus.

“Where the fuck are you going?” he asks as I continue down the sidewalk. I ignore him, not wanting to get into this any deeper than what we already are. Ten minutes ago, we were treading with ease. Now, we’ve gone under … seconds away from drowning.

They say the ones worth fighting with are the ones worth fighting for.

I’m not so sure about that.

“Emery!” I hear his heavy brown shoes hitting the pavement, and I quicken my pace. Soon after, a large hand wraps around my arm, stopping me in my tracks. “You’re not walking home. Now get in the fucking car.”

I wiggle, trying to free myself from his hand. “You know what, Drake? I’m done. Just let me go, and we can pretend this night never happened.”

“It shouldn’t have happened. I think we both know that.” Guilt echoes in his voice.

“I didn’t regret it until you pulled this again. Why do you do it? Why do you pull me close and let me in only to drop me on my ass again? I’m done.”

Under the illumination of the streetlight, his nostrils flare as his eyes scan mine. He looks like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t. He loosens his grip, and I shake myself away from him. He doesn’t say another word as I start back down the sidewalk again, but I hear his footsteps behind me.

I’m so done with him, done with this. Out of all people, why did my heart have to make an exception for him? Why is the one person who gets under my skin, the one person whose fingers I want on my skin? It must be a version of self-rebellion … my body’s a freaking traitor, especially my heart. I replay the moment I saw him with Olivia … right before she leaned in to kiss his cheek. When she walked away, she passed me, brushing against my shoulder with a huge grin plastered on her face. It was right after that when Cole Dillon found me.

With every block, my anger rises. One side of me wants to turn around and scream in his face, but deep down, I know he won’t give me what I want—an explanation. I’m better off to just keep going. Go back to the place I was before I met him.

When I reach the door to my building, he’s still behind me. I guess he gets one point for not being a complete asshole and leaving me to walk home alone in the dark.

After shutting myself inside, I lean against the wall away from his view. I wait, taking several deep breaths to calm my nerves before chancing a look out the window. I spot his retreating figure in the distance, his shoulders slumped, hands obviously buried in his pockets. It’s better this way, I think, as I watch him disappear into the night.

“Hey, Emery, how was your night?” Kate spent the night at Beau’s again, and I miss her. It’s nice to have a girl to talk to.

“You know me. I did some studying and read a book. Oh, and to keep things really interesting, I ate almost a whole pizza by myself,” I announce with artificial pride.

She laughs. “Control yourself, Emery.”

“I’m trying,” I say, pulling my covers up. It’s mid-morning on a Saturday, and I haven’t even gotten out of bed yet. The weather is gradually turning colder, making it more difficult to motivate myself to do anything unless I have class or study group.

Kate sits on the edge of my bed, pulling her legs up and wrapping her arms tightly around them. “Have you heard from him yet? It’s been almost a week.”

She wasn’t here when I got home from the party last Saturday night, but she picked up on my mood the minute she walked in the door on Sunday. I told her everything. How he seemed jealous that I was talking to Cole, and then all the sudden couldn’t keep his hands off me. I told her how quickly he changed again, going from hot to cold. Surprisingly, she seemed to understand. She said he’s obviously conflicted with himself, and it has nothing to do with me.