Tell Me Pretty Lies

“Tell me why,” I demand. “Why do you hate me so much?” I finally spit out the question that’s plagued my thoughts for almost an entire year.

I see the muscle beneath his jaw twitch, his nostrils flaring, and I know I’ve struck a nerve. “Because I have to.”

“Then why do you keep coming back?” The hushed words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.

“Because I have to.” His thumb swipes over the pulse that jumps in my neck at his admission. Maybe I’m not the only one who can’t seem to sever this connection. Maybe it’s killing him as much as it’s killing me.

Slowly, he angles his face toward mine, his lips grazing my cheek on their way to my mouth. My eyes fall shut, heart lodged in my throat as I wait for him to make his move. I push up onto my toes the slightest bit, and that’s all it takes. His hand fists my hair and his tongue licks the seal of my lips, seeking entrance. I let him in, feeling his tongue slide against mine, and a moan slips free. He’s kissing me. After all this time, he’s kissing me, and I almost forgot how it felt. My hands find his hoodie, clenching the material in my fists to stay upright.

Thayer’s hands wrap around my waist and he jerks me onto the hood, not breaking the kiss. He plants himself between my thighs, and I lie back onto the cool metal, yanking on the front of his sweatshirt to bring him with me. Planting my feet flat on the hood and bending my knees, I flick my tongue across his piercing, earning a growl from him. Then he’s sliding a hand down my stomach, stopping between my thighs. My head falls back onto the hood with a thud as his fingers rub me through my shorts. This is crazy. We shouldn’t be doing this, especially out in the open like this. But I’ve never been able to see reason where Thayer is concerned.

His lips find my neck, sucking and biting as brings me closer to the edge, but in the worst timing, visions of the girl in his room cut through the fog of lust. When he pulls away and the tips of his fingers dip into the waistband of my shorts, I grab his wrist, stopping him.

“You were with another girl the other night.” The words seem so juvenile out loud, but I’m not a homewrecker.

Thayer laughs darkly against my neck, sending a chill down my spine. “You think this makes you my girlfriend or something?” he asks, then scrapes his teeth across my neck.

“I hate you.” Even as I say the words, I’m arching into him, needing more.

“Tell me another lie.” His hand flattens against my stomach and slides beneath my shorts and underwear. My grip on his wrist is loose, hardly a protest. “Tell me more pretty little lies from these pretty little lips.” His fingers part me and I gasp, squeezing his wrist, and he groans appreciatively. “This doesn’t feel like hate.”

My knees fall open, some sick part of me getting off on his taunts, and he pushes a finger inside. It doesn’t escape me that I had a game earlier and I could use a shower. I don’t even want to know what I look like, messy hair, still in my uniform—knee pads and all—getting finger fucked on the hood of a car. Any hope of keeping my pride intact flies out the window when I urge him to speed up his movements by guiding his wrist to move faster.

“Fuck,” Thayer groans, his free hand jerking my shorts down to give him better access. He pumps his hand faster, and I tug at the hem of his sweatshirt, wanting to feel his skin, but he stops me. I give a frustrated growl and he answers by pushing my shirt up my chest and scraping his teeth over my piercing through my white sports bra. The orgasm I don’t see coming hits me hard and fast, and I clench around his fingers, mouth falling open in a silent scream.

When I come back down to Earth, I open my eyes to find Thayer’s attention locked onto where he slowly slides his fingers in and out of me, seeming dazed. I lick my lips that are dry from the cool air, still shuddering with aftershocks. Thayer pulls his fingers from me, giving my pussy two pats, and I flinch, still sensitive.

“Welcome home, Shayne.”

Shayne

I hate Thayer Ames.

At least that’s what I tell myself every time my thoughts drift back to him and how he left me on the hood of his car with my shorts still around my thighs. Reaching an entirely unprecedented level of asshole, he walked away, got into his car, started the engine, and held my forgotten backpack from his window, dangling it from two fingers, while he waited for me to pull myself together. I pulled my shorts back into place and peeled myself—along with my dignity—off the hood before storming into the house without a backwards glance.

Just when I think he’s finally showing me a glimpse of something real, he has to ruin it by being an asshole. And I’m the idiot who fell for it. Again.

To make matters worse, I still don’t know what I’m going to tell my mom about my car. If it was one tire, I could make up some story about getting a flat or running over a nail or something. But four of them sliced open at the wall? There’s no denying that it was intentional, and that will lead to her worrying about me and how I’m…reacclimating.

Not to mention the financial burden. I can’t even begin to accurately guess how much it will cost to replace four tires. Eight-hundred bucks? A thousand? She won’t talk money with me—says that’s not a kid’s business to worry about finances—but I know we’re struggling. Grey is going to one of the best colleges in the country, and it’s not like he has a scholarship. Living in Sawyer Point isn’t exactly cheap either.

“All right, ladies,” Coach calls out, bringing me out of my thoughts. “That’s it for today. Once again, good job last night. Let’s carry that same energy through the season. Enjoy your day off tomorrow, then we have a game against Mountain View on Thursday.”

I throw my ball into the bin, and when I turn around, I see Holden sitting on the bleachers on the other side of the gym. What the hell is he doing here? Has he been there this whole time? I roll my eyes when I notice Taylor spot him at the same time, a flirty grin spreading over her face as she saunters toward him. He stands, walking toward her.

“Hey, sexy,” she says coyly, once she’s a few feet away.

Holden notices her, seemingly for the first time, and barely acknowledges her with a flick of his chin before he walks right past her. Taylor’s face is beet-red with what I’m sure is a mixture of anger and embarrassment. The only thing worse than rejection for a girl like that is public rejection. Because her little friends, along with the entire team, just witnessed the whole thing.

“Hey, baby sister.”

“For the last time—” I say, glaring at him.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re not my sister. The sound of it just gets me hot, what can I say?” He takes my bag, then puts a hand on the small of my back as we walk through the gym.

“What the hell are you doing?” I whisper.

“Thayer said you’d need a ride.”