Hold You Against Me (Stripped 4)

I feel the heat go up a couple of degrees. “Let’s go,” I say, pleading.

“You got some magic pussy, is that it? Some fucking unicorn tits under that dress? Because I’ve seen my share of tits. Not sure why you’re hiding yours like they’re something special.”

Shane shoves off his chair, and I tumble off his lap. The ground hits my knees hard, my palms harder. I shudder out a breath. God, this is messed up. And I don’t even care. I don’t want a great relationship with a nice boy. I don’t want Shane either. But I can’t have what I want, so this is where I end up, on my hands and knees in a dirty club.

I turn in time to see Shane haul Rick out of his chair.

Rick is either too drunk or too stupid to care. He laughs, loud and cocky. “Her sister is a fucking stripper. And your girl won’t even let you touch her.”

Oh, that’s too damn far. I’ll do almost anything to avoid confrontation, but I draw the line where my sister is concerned. She’s not a stripper—not anymore—and when she was, she did it to protect me.

I don’t get a chance to defend her honor, though, because Shane tackles him. They fly into the table behind us, knocking it over. People scatter, forming a circle to lock us in. Making this into a circus act.

My stomach turns over, and I push myself unsteadily to my feet. People don’t move out of the way for me like they did for Shane and Rick, but I shove myself between them, blind, sick, heading sideways until I see red lights that spell EXIT.

Humid air wraps its fingers around my throat. The rain seems to have stopped, leaving every surface glittering. I lean against the damp brick wall, sucking in moist air that’s surprisingly fresh for an alley. My head falls back, and I stare up at a heavy blanket of dark clouds.

There are no stars. There are never any stars.

A harsh metal sound warns me that Shane’s not done with me tonight.

“Clara!” He barrels into the alley like

he’s still spoiling for a fight. A bruise darkens the side of his face. And judging from the glint in his eyes, he blames me.

My heart leaps into my throat. “You’re scaring me.”

He pushes right into my face, hands flat against the brick on either side of me. His hot breath blows across my cheek. “You’ve been leading me around by my dick since we met.”

“That’s not true.” We met at a coffee cart outside the art building. He was in his third year, taking a basic art class to satisfy his business degree requirement. He was ahead of me in line after class, and when I stepped forward to order, I discovered he’d paid for my drink. After I got my coffee, he introduced himself, using the charming smile that made everyone fall in line—even me.

He took me to old movies at a local theater that served themed menus to match. And on Valentine’s Day he sent so many roses that my room had overflowed. He told me that he liked my innocence so much he didn’t mind waiting for me.

His eyes narrow. “I think you like this shit, giving me blue balls. Making us fight over you.”

“You weren’t fighting over me! Not like that. He was just being an ass.” I’m not sure when the anger started, the accusations. It feels like it came slowly, creeping up on me. By the time I realized how bad it had gotten, I was almost afraid to end things. How would he react?

Shane scoffs. “All my friends want to fuck you, and I’m tired of fucking lying.”

“So don’t. It looked like Rick knew anyway.”

“He figured it out, because I was—” He cuts off with a dark glare. “And now he won’t fucking shut up. I get it, you’re hard to get. Message received.”

My breath catches. “You think this is a game?”

“It is a game. You’re playing me, and I fucking played along. I waited for you longer than any other guy would have.”

That isn’t exactly true. Giovanni waited for me longer than a couple months…and we never got to be together. But he’s gone now. I can’t keep living in the past.

And maybe Shane is right. Maybe this is a game, but not like he thinks. I wasn’t trying to make him jealous. I was living in an imaginary world where Giovanni was somehow alive, where he’d find me and we could be together. I was playing pretend.

“Okay,” I say softly, giving up more than my virginity. I’m giving up the dream of another boy in another time. “Let’s go back to my place.”

“No,” he says.

“Yours then.”

“And give you time to change your mind? No fucking way. Here. We’re doing it right here.”