He places a gentle kiss on the crown of my head, and I shiver under his touch.
“But in all seriousness, what do I call you? I met you as Robert and my favorite memories growing up are of you then, but everyone here knows you as Brice, and I want to respect your wishes.”
He rocks us a little more before answering, “What do you want to call me?” He pulls a deep breath before continuing. “Because the way I see it, at the end of the day, the only name I care about hearing is the one coming from your lips.” He brushes his nose against my cheek, bringing his lips millimeters away from my ear, his breath hot against my skin as his voice deepens into a seductive rasp, “The name you’ll eventually be moaning when I make you come.”
He nips at my neck, and I struggle to maintain my sense of control. This man already knows how to turn me into putty with his words alone.
“My Robert.”
“Only for you.”
Chapter Eight
The next couple of weeks go by as usual at school. Outside of Olivia, no one suspects a thing between Robert and me. Secret glances and stolen touches are the highlights of my day. But I look forward to the confines of his truck on the days after tutoring, where we can simply be Robert and Presley, two souls destined to live a life together, feeling incomplete without the other.
Homecoming is quickly approaching, and the biggest problem our group is dealing with is who is going with whom and coordinating outfit colors. Olivia has, of course, taken it upon herself to make sure everything is perfect for our little group. “Trey, are you still gonna ask the girl from chemistry?” she asks.
“Eh, I don’t know, she’s kinda off.”
“Marcus? What flavor of the week are you bringing?” the sarcasm drips from her mouth.
“Haven’t thought about it. I’ll probably grab someone last minute. I’m not really concerned with it.”
She rolls her eyes at his nonchalant attitude towards the whole thing. “Brice, what about you?”
Robert squeezes my knee under the table, and I let a small smile rise to the surface while keeping my head down, reviewing my notes for my algebra test. Ever since he’s started tutoring me, numbers have begun to make sense, and I no longer worry about losing my valedictorian position. I knew the material for this test, but it’s nice to currently have a distraction.
Heather’s whiny, nasally voice settles over us, and I cringe at her very existence. “Brice and I will be wearing red. Why don’t the rest of you partner up with each other so we can color coordinate for pictures?”
Bile rises in my throat as I try not to murder Heather with a look. Robert’s hand quickly grips the underside of my knee as he pulls my leg closer to him, trying to reassure me he hates the idea as much as I do.
“Marcus and Presley can go together, and then Trey and Olivia. It’ll be perfect,” she says with a smile on her face, utterly pleased with herself thinking she has Robert and me separated.
If I could reach over the table right now and strangle her, I would, but I told Robert I wanted to keep our relationship a secret for a while, and I’m not quite ready to burst our little bubble.
*****
There is no way in hell I’m letting Marcus touch my girl. I’ve known him longer than anyone else, and he has zero respect for women. There’s a reason Olivia referred to his date as the flavor of the week, and she didn’t mean it as a compliment; the dude’s the closest thing to a man whore as I’ve ever met.
“Heather, what makes you so sure I even want to go to homecoming?” Presley asks confidently, seeming a little put off that it was assumed she would be going.
“Umm, hello. It’s senior homecoming. What could be more important?”
“Oh, I don’t know, world hunger, social unrest, the plight of slave labor, all of which are far more important than a high school dance.”
The guys all snicker, and Liv has a huge grin on her face. Presley sits there, very matter-of-factly, as Heather tries her best at a retort. Point for Presley.
“When’s the dance anyway?”
Riled up, Heather says, “Next weekend. First Saturday of November.”
The grin spreading across Presley’s face is beautiful. I’m continually finding out new things about her that make me appreciate her more and more. She sets her flashcards down and throws her hands on the table. “Well, count me out!”
“Wait! What?” Olivia yells out, and I’m as equally curious to hear her reasoning. She hasn’t mentioned anything to me about not going, but I haven’t asked her to go with me either. I just assumed we would all go together as a group.
“It’s opening weekend of deer season.”
“And?” Heather asks in a somewhat annoyed tone.
“And I’ve got eight tags to fill this year.”
Trey and Marcus look at her like she’s the hottest thing around, which of course, she is. But they don’t get to look at her like that. God, I can't wait to make this official, I hate hiding my feeling for her.
“So what, are you gonna go kill Bambi’s mother?” God, Heather is so whiny. How have I never noticed this before? Her actual voice is worse than nails on a chalkboard.
“And father, if I’m lucky.”
“There’s no way you hunt.” I can see the images floating around in Marcus’s head as he questions Presley.
She smiles as if it’s no big deal. “My gramps took me on my first hunt when I was five; we’ve been going ever since. He has a blind a couple of hours from here, and we spend the whole weekend camping out there, just the two of us. I can almost taste the venison now. Chili, burgers, steaks, nothing better than meat you kill yourself.”
Trey pretends to wipe the drool off of his chin, “You’re killin’ me, Pres.”
Heather rolls her eyes and mumbles under her breath, “Sounds disgusting.”
“Sounds delicious to me,” Presley shoots back. “I don’t trust anyone who doesn’t eat meat.”
“Well, I’m a vegan,” Heather announces rather proudly.
Presley pinches the bridge of her nose and closes her eyes as if she’s trying to fight back a headache before looking at each member of the table, shocked that Heather is that dumb. “My point exactly,” she mumbles.
Everyone laughs, except Heather, and I have to fight the urge to kiss Presley’s temple. It’s about damn time someone put her in her place, and I’m so proud that it was my girl. They say karma can be a bitch.
“Please don’t let me not being there ruin y’alls fun.”
There it is again, that southern twang. Now the image of her dressed in camo has my mind headed to a place that will only increase my level of frustration.
“Maybe for prom, we can do the whole color-coordinating thing, Olivia.” Presley offers Liv a genuine smile, and her squeak echoes throughout the cafeteria.
“You can’t back out of it. You promise?”
“I promise,” she smiles and dips her head off to the side.
I take the opportunity to whisper in her ear, “You know you just made her entire year.” She nods back at me. “I’m glad you and Liv are friends. She’s a great one to have.”