I can’t control my body’s reactions around him and it doesn’t help that he keeps popping up on me everywhere. I fall back onto the bed and another groan leaves me when his scent fills my lungs. How long was he lying next to me? My body starts to tingle all over again and I have the need to slip my hand into my shorts but I fight it. That would be so wrong. I told myself I wasn’t going to do that again. I can’t think of my stepbrother while I touch myself, but it’s all my mind conjures when I ache. I’m starting to think something is wrong with me. No matter how hard I try to picture a faceless man, somehow Drake is always there.
I need to shower, so I roll out of bed to get ready. When I’m clean and dressed I grab my bag but I’m not even out of my bedroom door before my parents are all over me. When I enter the kitchen I see Drake’s making French toast. If the day keeps going like this I’m not going to be able to fit into my Homecoming dress tomorrow.
I eat every bite before leaving for school. Drake says we should ride together, so I get in his car. The drive is short and Drake tries to make small talk but it’s hard for me to look at him. I keep thinking that somehow he knows I got turned on while he was in my bed.
When he pulls into the parking lot I’m out of the car before it even stops. That doesn’t deter him, though, and his long legs catch up to me easily.
“I talked to Mom and she said you’d be ready around six tomorrow. I made a reservation so we can go to dinner first.” This is starting to feel like a date, but if Mom and Dad aren’t seeing that and neither is anyone else, then maybe I’m the one overthinking it. Maybe I’m over-wanting it but I push that crazy thought from my head.
“I made us shirts!” We both turn around at the sound of Lindsey’s voice. She’s running toward me with a bag in hand. She doesn’t hand it to me when she reaches us but opens the bag herself and pulls out the shirt.
“Happy birthday.” She pulls me into a hug and smushes the shirt between us. “I knew you wouldn’t pull out the team spirit, so I did it for us.”
She leans back so I can get a look at the shirt. Now I know why she was texting me so much last night. She had her hands full. I turn the shirt to see Hawthorne written across the back. I know it’s meant for Drake but it’s my last name too ever since Dad adopted me years ago. She put a lot of time and effort into them and somewhere a unicorn is missing its glitter.
“I like it,” Drake says from beside me. He’s fighting a smirk and I’m not sure if he’s lying.
“I thought we should represent for you guys since we’re all going to the dance together.” She turns and I see Liam’s last name on hers.
“It isn’t like a date,” I blurt out, still feeling self-conscious about this morning. What if Drake sees I’m starting to feel something for him that I shouldn’t?
I would be utterly mortified for him to set me down and have the same type of conversation I’ve heard he’s had with other girls in school. That his focus is football and not pussy. Although I’m sure he wouldn’t word it like that with me. I’ve never heard him use that word but I’m sure he has. All hope of us ever having any kind of relationship would be ruined because I’d crawl under my blankets and never come out.
I can feel Drake stiffen beside me and it makes me fidget as I tuck my hair behind my ear. I’ve been wearing it that way lately and nixing my glasses too when I don’t need them. I’ve been coming out of my shell more and more. At least that’s what Lindsey says. I think it’s like my mom said, I’m getting more comfortable in my own skin. I stopped trying to hide my body so much and have been wearing more form-fitting clothes. I’ve been more comfortable but now I’m unsteady again and I know it’s because of Drake.
“Come on, let’s go change, birthday girl.” Lindsey locks her arm with mine and pulls me with her. I glance over my shoulder to see Drake watching us go and this time I can’t read his face. It’s not anger, but whatever it is, it’s intense.
Chapter Ten
Drake
I saw Ali a few times throughout the day and I know that isn’t exactly my name on the back of her shirt, but it is my number. There have been a few girls around school wearing pride shirts and painting numbers on their cheeks, but seeing Ali with the number seven across her chest made me walk around with my head held high.