“Yeah.”
I look down at my lap and start nervously playing with the string on the waistband of my sweatpants. Clark’s hand suddenly is covering mine. My eyes shoot up to his.
“It’s OK, Megan. Whatever happened…it’s OK. You can tell me anything. You know that, right? I don’t know what happened between us, but I never stopped caring about you.”
I feel myself blush again. I look back down watching his giant hand cover mine.
“There was a party after the play. All the upperclassmen were there. Some of them from drama club, some not. Back then, everyone wanted to get with Anthony. He was like this bad boy that all the girls swooned over, and when he started flirting with me, I felt…special.” I take a deep breath. “At some point that night, we were alone. He pressed me against the wall and told me the things he wanted to do to me. I…I was scared. It felt…wrong. I didn’t know him, and I had never done anything more than kiss a guy. He pinned me to the wall and started forcing my legs apart with his. He managed to get his hand up my skirt but then some drunk kids came by the room. I used the distraction to knee him and get the hell out of there.” I hear Clark curse under his breath. “He told everyone I was a prude. And went out of his way to make me feel like one. After that…I didn’t want to be popular anymore. I didn’t want to have boys like me. So, I just focused on school. I could control that. It…felt safe.”
I finally look up and see Clark’s eyes boring into mine. The look of intensity in them scares me a little.
“That motherfucker,” Clark mutters. “I should have killed him.”
I roll my eyes. “I appreciate the sentiment, but we both know you aren’t a murderer.”
“Well, I should have at least beat his ass more than I did.”
“I just wish I knew why he was here tonight.”
Clark mutters something under his breath.
“Clark, what did he say?”
“He was looking for you. He said someone told him that you lived here, and he was going to try to get a piece of ass he should have had years ago. Now I know what he was talking about,” Clark says in a low voice that tells me he’s ready to beat the shit out of Anthony. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me feel a little better. “I’m sorry he did that to you, Megs. No man should treat a woman like that.”
“Thanks, Clark.”
I question why I just told him my deepest, darkest secret, but before I can explore that thought further, I hear voices and the front door opening. Some of my sisters come in, and I look up at Clark in a panic.
“Shit, you aren’t supposed to be up here,” I state, scrambling to lock my door. I’m in one of three senior suites with a bathroom. Clark looks out the window and curses.
“Only way I can leave is down the stairs,” he says. “It’s too high to jump.”
Fuck my life. I’ve never, ever smuggled a boy into the house before. I have no idea what to do. OK, play it cool.
“Uh, I’m just gonna see who came home,” I say as I exit my room and quickly shut the door. Meanwhile, the mantra “please be Stella” keeps playing on repeat in my brain as I walk downstairs and find Kendra and her bestie, Haven, eating a bag of chips.
“Hey,” they say in unison.
“Hey, how was the party?” I ask nonchalantly because…I’m trying to play it super cool.
“Lame. I think we are going to watch a movie, want to join us?” Haven asks.
I put on my best super-bummed face. “I wish I could. I totally didn’t do my homework all week. That internship is killing me. Anyhow, I gotta catch up. But maybe tomorrow?”
Kendra smiles. “Tomorrow is a Twilight marathon.”
I laugh. “OK, vampire movies it is. I’m going to finish this reading and then go to bed early. If you all see Stella, just tell her I’ll catch up with her in the morning.”
“Will do,” Kendra says, saluting me as I head upstairs. I open and shut my door in stealth mode and then lean against it. I turn the lock on my doorknob just for safe measure. When I finally look up, my mouth falls open.
Clark is passed the fuck out on my bed wearing nothing but boxer briefs. I look around because I have no idea what to do. Do I crawl in next to him? I mean, there is room because he’s plastered himself up against the wall. Or do I sleep on the floor? I look at my hardwood floor. No fucking way. It’s my damn room.
I grab my extra blanket off my chair and gently sit on the bed as to not wake Clark. I curl up in a ball and turn off my light. I admit, lying here curled up against Clark is doing things to my lady bits. Fuck, he smells good too. I wonder how much he had to drink tonight. Should I get a bucket in case he gets sick? I’m contemplating the move when he rolls on his side and his arm wraps around me.
“Stop thinking, Megladon. That’s your biggest vice, you know that? You think too fucking much,” he mutters.
I turn to face him. His eyes are half-opened as he looks at me.
“I thought you had passed out,” I admit.
“I was sort of dozing, but it’s hard to pass out when your ass is pressed against me,” he says with a smirk.
I roll my eyes. “You are such a…” I trail off because I don’t know what to call him. A jerk? A tease? A flirt?
“I’m a what?” he asks.
I sigh because I just don’t have it in me to continue the banter right now. For the first time in nearly seven years, I just don’t want to argue with him.
“You’re just…you.”
His grin widens. “Damn skippy.”
I chuckle. “You know, you haven’t changed very much since middle school.”
He moves and I suddenly feel his erection press against my thigh. Holy fucking shit. I clear my throat. “I mean, you still act like you.”
He leans in so our faces are only an inch apart. “I do?”
I nod.
“How about this? Did I used to act like this, Megladon?” he asks as he presses his lips to mine while wrapping his large hands around my waist and tugging it flush with his body. I shiver from the contact; goose bumps dot my skin as he tilts his head and deepens the kiss with a single stroke of his tongue along my lips. I close my eyes and savor the taste of him as I open my mouth. He lets me control the kiss as I tentatively run my tongue along his. He tastes like expensive bourbon and that surprises me. I might be the only college student here who can tell you just by taste whether alcohol is pricey or not. Dad always made us play the guessing game growing up. He’d let us take a little sip of his drinks when we were teenagers. He taught us about the different forms of alcohol and how they were made. We went to vineyards, breweries, and distilleries all over the world. When we were abroad, we drank freely at mealtime. And by the time I was twenty-one, just recently, I didn’t even care. Mom said that was Dad’s masterplan all along. To show us good alcohol and teach us about responsibly drinking, so when we did go to college, we wouldn’t go crazy and get drunk on cheap stuff.
Of course, if my parents had known me better, they’d know that I have drunk very little alcohol while at college.
“Stop thinking, Megs.” Clark’s voice pulls me back to the kiss as he rolls us over. His body presses mine into the mattress. “Is this OK?” he asks.