Stalk Me (17 page)

My phone buzzes and buzzes, but I pretend not to hear it. 

Because right now, every nerve in my body is screaming about how Cush is making them sizzle. 

I’m tired of waiting for Brooklyn to start liking me. Tired of being the only one of my friends who hasn’t done it. Tired of waiting for some mythical true love. And tired of wishing on the stupid moon.

What I need is a really hot hookup.

And Cush’s kisses are hot.

Especially the ones that he’s now running down my neck and into my exposed cleavage. 

My sense receptors are flooded with information.  

After Cush sucks his way up and down my neck, his kisses get softer. 

Across my earlobe. Across my cheek. Then back to my lower lip. 

He slowly sucks my lower lip into his mouth then says, “I need to tell you something.”

“In a minute,” I mumble, as I finish unbuttoning his shirt, push it off his shoulders, and kiss across his tan sculpted chest. 

Then I get brave and unbuckle his belt. 

I mean, it’s Cush. It’s not like he’s going to turn me down. I don’t think he knows how to say no to a girl. 

As I attempt to unzip his pants, he grabs my hands. “Keatyn, I need to tell you something.”

“Um, okay?” Seriously? Is he going to tell me no?

“There’s a reason why I haven’t gotten serious with a girl. Why I haven’t dated anyone. Why I always wanted you to come to dinner with me. Why I counted down the days until the next dinner.”

“Why?”

He gives me the Cushman grin. The grin so sexy, I want to pull him into bed right now. 

“I’m kinda in love with you.”

I blink hard, back away from him, and sit on the bed. 

Is he serious? Cush never lies to girls to get them into bed. 

They all go willingly.

“Are you telling me that so I’ll sleep with you?”

“No, I’m telling you that so you won’t sleep with me. I know you’ve been crushing on the surfer dude. I know that I usually don’t treat girls all that well myself, but you’re different. You’ve always been different.”

“Vanessa told me I should hook up with you and not tell you I’m a virgin. That you would never notice.”

“I’m pretty sure I’d notice.” He scrunches up his nose. “I think, anyway.” 

“Not if I got you drunk,” I tease, trying to lighten the mood.

“That’s not what I want, Keatyn. Go out with me. Be my girlfriend.”

“I, uh . . . I don’t know what to say. Are you serious?” I quickly stand up. “You never have girlfriends. I don’t think you’ve ever even had a second date.”

He gives me the sweetest smile. “Please say yes.”

“I’ve only been single for six days.”

He doesn’t reply, just kisses me instead. The kind of kiss that makes me want to say yes to any question he could ask. 

He slides the remaining strap off my shoulder, which causes my gown to slink it’s way off my body. I don’t have on a bra, just a white satin thong. I also get a feeling of déjà vu. Although we’re not at a hotel with rose petals, I realize Cush is following my script. 

I flash him a big smile as he stands back and stares at my body. I know I should be embarrassed, but I’m not. I feel confident as he takes in my body and slides his hands down my back. But then he stops again. 

“I’m sorry, but I’m not doing anything else until you say yes.” He sits on the edge of the bed and takes off his slacks. I can see that he’s hard. He grabs Tommy’s shorts and pulls them on. “You’re right. You better get me to bed, or I’m going to be no good for soccer tomorrow.”

I don’t think I ever made Sander hard. 

Suddenly, I don’t give a shit about his soccer tournament.

“I know it’s probably bad school spirit and not very supportive of me, but right now, I really don’t care about your soccer game.” I kiss him and pull him on top of me. 

“Keatyn, are you sure about this?”

“I’m very sure. I don’t want to stop, Cush. In fact, if we stop, the answer to your question is going to be hell no.”

He frowns at me then gets off the bed and grabs his phone off my desk. 

What the hell is he doing? 

I swear, I hate boys. 

I literally just threw myself at him, and he chooses now to check his texts?

I feel a lump forming in my throat and know that I’m going to start crying. My ego can’t take this.

It can’t take being told no one more time. 

First, Sander doesn’t want me. Then, stupid Brooklyn. 

I can’t stop the tears. They start to flow like rivers down my cheeks. I grab my comforter and pull it in front of my bare chest. I feel so incredibly naked. And stupid.

He sets his phone down and plops back on the bed with me. 

“Okay, so I set my alarm for seven. I can’t miss the bus, and I’ll probably suck it up on the field tomorrow, but I don’t care . . . are you crying? Why are you crying?”

“I thought you didn’t want me,” I sniffle. “I thought you were checking your texts.”

His eyes get big. “No, I just wanted to set my alarm real quick. I’m sorry. See, I’m no good at this. I’ve never cared before. I’ve always just done it with no thought.” He kisses my forehead, then my cheek, and then across my lips. “Let’s start over, okay?”

I nod as he reaches over and turns off my lamp. He leans toward me, stops, and flips the lamp back on. 

“Can we talk first?”

“Um, sure?” I clutch the comforter tighter to my chest. I want to scream at him,
Just be Cush. Throw me on the bed and do me already.

“How did you picture it?”

“Picture what?”

“Losing your virginity?”

“Um, I don’t know.” I lie. I’ve written a million different versions. Versions where I lose it in a hotel on prom night to my perfect boyfriend. Versions where Brooklyn attacks me on the beach. Versions where Brooklyn takes me to his bedroom. 

Cush grabs my hand, pulls it up to his lips, and peppers it with sweet kisses. “Please tell me.”

“It’s silly, really.”

“I won’t think it’s silly, I swear. In fact, I’ll go first.”

“You thought about it?”

“I did. And it’s kinda embarrassing for me.”

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“Yeah, I do.” His lips are still slowly kissing the tops of my knuckles. It’s very sweet. “I used to dream it would be you. You always looked so pretty and perfect at school, but I’d see you every afternoon at soccer practice, and you seemed different. Free. Happy. Tough. You made varsity freshman year. Not very many people do that. I didn’t miss a game. I didn’t even know your first name for the longest time. Had just heard the coach yell Douglas at you. Then one day you were running toward me for a soccer ball that had gotten kicked over to our side of the field. It stopped right in front of my feet. I picked it up and said
here
. Do you remember what you said?”

“I said,
Thanks, I’m Keatyn by the way
, didn’t I?

He nods his head and kisses my hand again. “Yep. And I couldn’t come up with anything to say back. I just stood there like an idiot. I had so many cool things I was going to say to you if I ever got the chance, but I couldn’t say a word. You had never been that close to me. I could smell your perfume. I could see the purple in your eyes that you can only see when you’re up close. I wanted to ask you out so bad. But then Sander came to school, and I was shit out of luck.”

“But we became friends. I always thought you were really cute, and I invited you to a party.”

“I remember. Sander and I bonded over a bottle of whiskey I stole from my mom’s liquor cabinet. I got drunk and slept with some senior girl.”

“And The Cushman was born.”

“Exactly.” He sighs. “Trust me when I say there’s no one that wants you more than I do, but I don’t think we should do it tonight. I want to do this right, and you’ll have to agree to go out with me first.”

I feel like crying again. He’s seriously so sweet. Why have I never noticed that before?

“And I changed my mind,” he says. “Don’t tell me how you pictured it. I want to plan it and surprise you. Tomorrow night work?”

“What about soccer?”

“Our games are supposed to be over by eight. I’ll pick you up at nine.”

I grab the back of his neck, pull his adorable face closer to mine, and kiss him hard. I pull myself onto his lap, roughly run my hands through his hair, and scratch down his back. He grabs my butt and pulls me tighter into his hips. 

My body rocks against him. Specifically, against the hardness I can feel through his shorts.

It’s like my body is trying to trick him into wanting me now even though I’m really looking forward to tomorrow night. 

But when he bites down slightly on my shoulder as I thrust my hips into his hardness, I know I’m not waiting another day.

“Let’s do it tonight, get the awkward part out of the way, and have more fun tomorrow,” I say breathlessly. 

My hands don’t bother waiting for his answer. They’re already pulling off his shorts. 

He seems to be struggling with the decision. 

“I can’t wait,” I say breathlessly into his neck.

He flips me over on the bed, tosses his shorts to the floor, and pulls off my thong. 

I guide his mouth back toward mine.

 “Are you sure?” he says.

“I’m so very sure.” 

I close my eyes, take a calming breath, and don’t stop kissing him until it’s over.

I wake up to a loud clap of thunder and peek at my phone. 

4:22. 

Cush has one arm wrapped around me, and the other is arched above his head. 

I can’t believe I finally did it. 

I so never wrote this script. Never ever imagined my first time like this. 

But I feel surprisingly happy. Happy that it didn’t really hurt, and happy that he knew what he was doing. 

I think about how cute he looked when he told me he was kinda in love with me. How he wants to plan something special for tonight. How much I feel like kissing him again. 

I lay my head back on his shoulder and press my lips softly into his neck. 

“Mmmm,” he says dreamily, still half asleep. “That feels good.”

I jump when a loud clap of thunder shakes the windows.

He opens one eye. “Is that thunder? Is it raining?”

“Yeah, it’s pouring.”

“Maybe they’ll call off our games, and we can spend the day in bed.”

I kiss up the side of his neck. “That sounds fun, except my parents might not appreciate it. They know you spent the night, but they think we just crashed.”

He rolls onto his side and kisses my stomach. “Well, in that case . . . ” 

I don’t let him finish. I know exactly what he’s thinking, and I’m thinking the same thing. 

Saturday, May 21st

It’s cute. Can I keep it?

7am

BEEP! BEEP! 

“Shit,” he says, clicking off the alarm while rubbing his eyes. 

“Is it still raining?”

He throws the covers back, and I get to watch his cute naked butt as he walks to my window. He pulls the curtain back and nods his head. “It is, and I can see lightning off in the distance. If it keeps up, they’ll have to call the games.”

I glance down, and my eyes get big. 

“What?” He glances down, realizes why my eyes are big, and shrugs his shoulders. “It’s morning.”

“It’s cute. Can I keep it?” 

His phone buzzes. “It’s from Coach. Ha! Sweet. Games this morning rained out. Says he’ll update us at eleven.”

“Good. Come back to bed.”

“What if I’m not really that tired?” he says with a grin. 

“I said come back to bed, not go back to sleep.”

He takes a huge leap and pounces on top of me. I let out a little scream then giggle when he tickles my sides. 

“KIKI, KIKI!!” I hear being screamed from outside my door. “LET GWEYSIE IN!!”

“Shit, it’s my little sister. Put that thing away!” I whisper. “Just a second, Gracie!” I yell out. I hop out of bed and grab my robe while Cush slides on a pair of shorts.

I unlock and open my door just as there’s another huge clap of thunder. Gracie barrels into my room, jumps on my bed, and hides her head under the blankie she has dragged in behind her. Then she peeks her head out from underneath it and looks at Cush.  

“Kuffffmannn!” she says excitedly. “High-five?” Cush always gives the girls high-fives when he sees them at my soccer games. 

He gives her a high-five. Then she stands up in the middle of my bed and starts jumping up and down. 

I grab her by the waist and sit her down on the bed. “Gracelyn, you know you’re not supposed to jump on beds. You can fall and get hurt.”

“Merde,” she mutters under her breath.

“What did you say?”

She smiles at me, starts jumping on the bed again, and screams, “Merde! Merde! Merrrrdaayyyy!!”

“Gracie, do not say that! That’s a naughty word.”

She stops jumping and looks at me, trying to gauge how serious I am. She grins at me, knows I’m probably not a threat, jumps again, and sings, “Va-gina. Va-gina. Gweysie has a va-gina.”

Cush gives me a glance, stifles a laugh, and starts coughing.

“Kiki have a ’gina too. Do you?” she says to Cush.

Cush smiles with his lips shut. He’s trying really hard not to laugh. “No, um, only girls do.”

Gracie’s eyes get big, and she looks Cush up and down. 

I know she’s about to start screaming the word penis. The girl has way too big a vocabulary for a two-and-a-half year old. 

“You better go check on Mommy and Daddy, Gracie. They might be scared of the thunder.”

“Gweysie no like funder,” she says. She throws her blankie around her neck like a super hero cape then tears out of the room. 

I shut and lock my door behind her. “Sorry. That was awkward.”

He pulls me on the bed with him. “So I hear you have a ’gina. Does it want to come play with me?”

I swat his shoulder. “You’re naughty.” 

My phone buzzes on my nightstand. “I suppose we should look at Vanessa’s texts, huh? See what the damage is?” I say.

“I suppose,” he says, like he really doesn’t want to, but then he swipes my phone. “How ‘bout I read them. Okay, first one is from B. Who’s that?”