Take (Need #2) (7 page)

Kira pushes at my chest.

I move back slowly. “It’s okay if you chose him that one time. I get it. I forgave you for it the moment I found out.” Her, yes. Him? Never. I can’t.

Her beautiful, sad eyes stare up into mine. “And if I decide to give him a chance?”

“I’ll forgive you for that, too.” No clue how I’ll stop myself from trying to kill him, though. “I’ll wait for you. I just . . .”

“You just what?”

Fuck. Does she understand how hard this is for me right now? “I need to know I’ll have you someday.” My brain can’t even begin to imagine an entire life without her. Never could. I just fooled myself into thinking it was possible once.

I watch her, trying to read what’s going through her mind.

And I get nothing but her pain.

Kira starts heading into her room. Against my will, I make no move to reach out for her.

At her door, she stops. “Let me know if you need help unloading your car.” She walks into her room and closes the door.

May 25th, 2015

The bell rings, signaling the great escape. The stampede funneling through the classroom door is greater than usual. Then again, only nine school days remain, and an hour and a half of world history review has everyone crawling the walls.

“Boo!” Ashley pops up behind me as I pull my phone from my back pocket.

“Hey! How was Spanish?”

“Muy boring,” she says with a sigh, then turns to me, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “Did Lyn tell you what she’s doing?”

I shake my head. “No, she wasn’t in class.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “Really? Where, oh where, is my little sister? And whose face is she sucking?” She pulls out her phone, typing away.

I wake my own up, turning the screen on and seeing why my ass was vibrating all morning long.

Six text messages.

Over the last few months I got used to tons of messages per day, and today was no different. My daily dose of annoyance from Brayden.

Though he isn’t the only sender, and I check out Jenna’s first.

Sam is sooooo hot. I would seriously jump him.

Followed by,

What party are we going to this weekend? Maybe he’ll go.

And then . . .

What are you doing? Answer me!

I shake my head. Study hall must have been extremely boring.

The next is from Austin, and I find myself hesitating to open it. I haven’t forgiven him, and the whole explosion the day Brayden moved home still makes me sick.

Hi. How’s your day? Did you hear about AJ Henricks party next month? It’s costume. I want to take you. Let me know.

I sigh and back out of the message, deciding to worry about it later, because there are two more messages waiting for me and they might make me go crazy and tell Austin yes.

Hey, baby. Did a little manscaping today. What do you think?

I stop walking, stop breathing, even stop thinking. My jaw is slack, and I could be drooling. Because attached to Brayden’s message is a picture that has my blood pumping, thighs clenching, and clit twitching.

I’m a pile of goo in the middle of the hallway, forced to lean on the bay of lockers next to me for support.

It starts with his sexy smirk that drives me crazy, even though I don’t want it to, and is nothing but hard, smooth, taut chest and abs. He’s wearing a red hoodie. It’s covering up one of his huge pecs, but that doesn’t matter, it’s a tease, making me want to see it all. What’s showing trails all the way to the bottom of his abs, down to his very low-slung grey sweatpants. So low, the base of his dick is almost showing. The hoodie is open at the bottom, highlighting his V.

The V!

A sound I can’t identify leaves me at the sight of a highlight and definite shadow in his sweatpants.

His cock.

Oh, holy fuck, his cock.

Missing you, if you couldn’t tell. ;)

The head is hanging low and long, perfectly outlined.

He’s hard. For me.

My mouth is dry, hands shaking, pussy pulsing. I’m a fucking mess.

“Yo, Kira, are you okay?” Ashley’s hand waves in front of my face, and I blink at her. “Girl, what is it?”

She moves to look at my phone and I snap it close to my chest, making her eyes pop open in surprise.

“Kira, show me.”

“No.”

Her gaze narrows, then she leans forward and snatches the phone from my hand, turning away before I can grab it back.

“Ashley!” I reach for it, but it’s too late.

Her eyes are glued to the screen, just as I’m sure mine were.

“Oh, my God.” She glances up at me, then back down at the screen. “I think I just came.”

My body goes rigid, and I grab the phone back as an unwanted rage boils in me.

Ashley’s whole face is in shock. “I think I may have to switch to team Brayden.”

“Shhh!” I hush her, grabbing her arm as I drag her into the bathroom.

I need a minute to calm down, to collect myself. The bell goes off, and I don’t care that I’m late to calculus.

I had to tell my girls some of what was going on after what happened over my birthday, but I didn’t tell them everything, all the crap that’s gone on over the years, so I told them he asked me out. That alone caused them to form sides. Jenna and Marilyn are team Brayden, while Ashley makes up team Austin.

“Seriously, girl, you need to have that hot-as-fuck male specimen, if just for scientific research.”

“Research?”

“Yeah. See how many times that beast can make you come, and report to us so we can live vicariously in your bliss.”

Fuck. Bliss.

I hate to admit that she’s probably right. It’s bad enough my body betrays me every time I’m near him, even just hearing his voice.

I don’t want him . . . but I do. Scratch this itch that takes over and forget who I am, forget about the world.

Fuck him out of my system and be done with him.

“That would be bad.”

“No, it would be good.
Very
good.” Her eyes soften and she takes my hand. “Look, I know there’s a lot of baggage between you two, even without you saying it. It’s obvious. And while I’m still totally team Austin, what’s wrong with a hate fuck with Brayden?”

I shake my head. “You’re terrible.”

“No, I’m right.” She steps back toward the door. “Come on, let’s get to class. We can talk about it later. I’m sure Marilyn and Jenna want to weigh in.”

I let out a groan and step forward. The last thing I want is all of their opinions, let alone allowing them all to view the picture. I’ll never get my phone back, and I also don’t want anyone else seeing something that was for me alone.

“Wait.” I hold my phone up high, hitting the camera function and selfie my response with a middle finger just for him. It’s sitting in my cleavage, thanks to the angle. Oh, well.

With my response out, we head to class. It’s only five minutes in when I slip into my seat and lean over to my neighbor, Thomas. “What did I miss?”

He smiles and hands me a stapled stack of papers. “Review. I grabbed you a copy.”

“Thank you!”

As I turn back, my phone buzzes and a message pops up on the screen.

I’m more than happy to fuck those tits, baby.

I sigh and change my phone over to silent before slipping it back in my pocket. Brayden being home is not a good thing. Three hundred miles away was bad enough, but now? My skin itches, my heart races, and the attraction is overpowering.

When I get home he’ll be across the hall, a few feet from me, and no Ryan to shield me because my rat of a brother abandoned me for a girl.

Not that I fault Ryan for it, but I do like to tease him about it. Years of back and forth with Dana and they’re finally together. I know him, and that despite what he’s put off, he loves her.

I stare down at the Calculus review. Only a few more days and school’s out, and I can’t wait to be done. Then again, that leaves me home alone with Brayden.

Lord, give me strength to stave off this lust.

May 27th, 2015

The words in front of me blur. Not because I’m tired, but because my attention once again wanders.

I shake my head, trying to refocus. It’s exhausting to fight this raging curiosity badgering my mind.

Is he partying right now?

Come on
—
of course he is. It’s his twenty-first birthday. Ryan and Dana invited me to go with them. I declined, of course.

They said they were taking him out for dinner and then drinks.

As per Ryan and Brayden’s usual status in quo, I’m assuming that drinks is code for “partying their asses off.”

Whatever. I’m used to it. It’s not like I was tempted to go or anything.

I uncap my highlighter and set back into it.

Blurs. Nonsense. Some more blurs.

I’m not getting shit done.

Aggravated, I drop the highlighter onto my French workbook. My final is on Friday. I started out French late, but my plan is to continue in college and be fluent in two years tops.

Jenna and the twins are also studying their asses off, but none of them are in French, so they aren’t available to offer me any kind of distraction.

Not that studying a foreign language is actually doing anything. I thought it’d be enough to help me forget. Clearly, I was wrong.

I chew on my thumbnail and stare at my dark computer screen.

Just one look. A single peek and my curiosity will go away, right?

I drag my laptop closer and turn it on. Approximately thirty seconds later, I find myself on Facebook, pulling up a profile I haven’t checked in forever.

Brayden Hunt.

Amid what has to be close to a thousand birthday posts, I see a picture that Ryan posted and tagged. It’s just him, Dana, and Brayden in the picture. They seem to be at some bar.

The picture is totally different from what I expected to see. They seem to just be chilling instead of hardcore partying. The caption reads:
“Had a blast with my boy on his twenty-first.”

Had?

The picture was posted almost two hours ago.

So, the party is over? Ryan and Dana probably went off to do their own thing then.

Brayden . . . I refuse to think about it. In the back of my head, I know what he’s most likely doing right now.

It hurts to think that.

Fuck! It actually still hurts.

Footsteps sound out, coming up the stairs.

Wait. Mom and Steve are supposed to be gone until tomorrow. They’ve been going out on more getaways lately. A desperate attempt to save their failing marriage.

Curious, I get up and open the door to my room.

Brayden stops just outside his bedroom door, fingers on the buttons of his black dress shirt.

He’d been midway through unbuttoning it.

My eyes slide down the length of him, pausing on the bared skin of his chest. I should look away. At the very least, be more discreet.

I can’t. His smooth skin calls to me. If it was up to me, I’d lick every part of his chest, then move lower.