Before (After 5)

Her body knows, her body knows.

“That’s none of your business.”

She must not be able to tell. Once you wear a mask for as long as she has, it’s nearly impossible to take it off. Either that, or she’s the one who feels invisible.

“You have no idea how good I can make you feel.” I step closer. Let me convince you, let me show you, I want to beg her.

Her back touches the wall again, and she looks around for some way to gain distance from me. She’s breathing hard now, clearly affected by me. Finally.

“Really, you don’t have to admit it. I can tell.”

She gasps—a seemingly innocent sound, but I know better. I know she wants more; her mind and body yearn for it.

“Your pulse has quickened, hasn’t it? Your mouth is dry, you have that feeling . . . down there. Don’t you, Theresa?” I imagine her naked body sprawled out for me, my finger tracing over the wetness soaking from her pussy.

She sucks in a sharp breath and tries to look away from me, but fails miserably. “You’re wrong.” She knows I’m right.

“I’m never wrong.” I smile. She hesitates, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Not about this.”

Tessa takes a breath, and I know I’m in for it. “Why do you keep saying I throw myself at you if you’re the one cornering me now?”

“Because you made the first move on me. Don’t get me wrong.” I laugh. “I was as surprised as you were.”

“I was drunk and had a long night—as you already know. I was confused because you were being nice to me . . . well, your version of being nice.” My version of being nice? I’m usually nice to her. Exceptionally nice now that I have a reason to be. The Bet plays at the corners of my mind, and I remember to tread a little lighter than I typically would.

Tessa moves past me and sits down on the concrete curb. I look around to see if anyone is watching us, but no one seems to notice us at all.

“I’m not that mean to you,” I say, though I’m starting to wonder if she really thinks this.

“Yeah, you are. You go out of your way to be mean to me. Not just me, but everyone. It just seems like you are extra hard on me, though.”

Mean? I’m no meaner to her than I am to a kitten. I’ve been easy on her.

“That’s just not true. I’m no meaner to you than I am to the rest of the general population,” I joke. She doesn’t find me funny in the least. If she could, she would send me flying with the flick of her wrist.

Tessa jumps to her feet. “I don’t know why I keep wasting my time!”

She’s going to leave. I don’t want her to leave, do I?

No. I don’t. I’m not the best with apologies, especially when I don’t feel they’re needed, but I have to stop being a bitch about this and just say sorry. She’s easily calmed by an apology, as I’ve quickly learned.

“Hey, I’m sorry. Just come back over here,” I say, using the persuasive tone I know girls like. She stands up, and I sit down on the curb close to where she was sitting.

“Sit.” I pat the ground next to me. She huffs a little and sits down. She crosses her legs and sighs. I’m surprised by the calm that I feel when I’m granted her forgiveness.

“You’re sitting awfully far away,” I tease her. She tosses me an eye roll. “You don’t trust me?” I know the answer to this.

Of course she doesn’t, but she wants to. I want her to trust me more than I care to admit.

“No, of course I don’t. Why would I?” Her words are fast, sharp.

I inch back. I don’t trust her either, but she doesn’t need to be so quick about her answers. She obviously has some type of draw to me; otherwise we wouldn’t be having this conversation. She has to feel some fraction of it to be here.

“Can we just agree to either stay away from each other or be friends? I don’t have it in me to keep fighting with you.” I don’t feel like we fight a lot; we just talk more than either of us expected. I fight with her less than I fight with Ken and talk to her more. That’s saying something.

We’ve both gotten used to it. It would be strange to think of not seeing Tessa again. I’ve gotten used to her sassy mouth and the way her eyes give away how angry she gets with me. Her fire is contagious. It’s becoming an addiction for me, as if I need another high calling my name.

“I don’t want to stay away from you,” I admit. I hate that I have to be on my best behavior with her: one small slipup, and she runs. I would like to think that we’ve grown a little closer today, that maybe she wouldn’t be so quick to leave. I’m expected to tell her how I feel, to be more open than I’m comfortable with, and I barely get anything in return. It’s like I’m married without the benefits of sex and dinner every night.

“I mean . . . I don’t think we can stay away from each other, with one of my best friends being your roommate and all. So I suppose we should try to be friends.” I have a game to win here, and she’s not being the easiest pawn.

“Okay, so friends?” she asks, her voice mimicking someone making a business deal. I could offer to split half of my winnings with her. A beautiful start to a blooming friendship that would make.

Friends? Friends who fuck, maybe? Fucking friends.

“Friends.” I push my hand between us for her to shake.

My smile is cunning, full-on charming. She catches on and shakes her head at me. She senses a little bit of my danger, but not enough to keep her away.

“Not friends with benefits,” she insists, but then is betrayed when she blushes. I didn’t realize how attractive her innocence could be, really.

I reach up to play with the metal ring above my eye. “What makes you say that?”

“Like you don’t know. Steph already told me.”

“What, about me and her?” She was okay, sort of interesting to be around. She has her issues like the rest of us, but she carries them on her back, hiding them from the world, unlike Molly and myself. I wonder what the redhead told Tessa about our time together. I feel like she probably exaggerated when she told the tale of our escapades. Steph always wanted more than I could give her, and she fed on competition, not knowing when to take no for an answer.

“You and her, and you and every other girl,” she chokes out.