“Honestly?” she replies, and I narrow my eyes.
“I dare you to be honest.”
She leans forward, glaring at me without a hint of hesitation. “No, I don’t want you to leave.”
“You’re not mad at me?” I ask, feeling the desire in my gut stirring like poison.
“For what you did in the shower?”
I nod.
“Yes, of course I am. That was awful. And I’m mad at you for the way you treated me in the car the other day and for bullying me into having phone sex with you. I’m mad at you for all of it, Cullen, but I don’t want you to leave. I like having you here, and I guess I shouldn’t admit that because you are not in the mindset to give me what I want, but you wanted me to be honest, so there you go.”
I swallow the brick in my throat. She’s right. I shouldn’t give her what she wants, but I like it here too, so I don’t want to leave. Instead of pulling her to this couch with me so I can hold her like I want, I turn back to the game and leave our conversation at that.
If anything, this whole thing with Everly has made me realize I am tired of being alone. It’s not her I want, but the idea of having someone who will listen and be with me in this comfortable silence is growing on me. I’ve been alone long enough, and Everly is the first one to make me want to change that.
13
Everly
I want to kill him. That much is obvious. My body is still throbbing from the shower, wanting release more than I’ve ever wanted it before. Wanting him inside me, really inside me. But I think I knew by the second time he toyed with me he wasn’t going to give me what I wanted.
The football game ends at nine-thirty, and I start to feel restless. I’m not sure if Cullen is going to want a ride home or if he’ll stay. And I don’t want to ask, afraid he’ll say it’s time to go. I really shouldn’t want him here as much as I do. Even if he sleeps on the couch, even if he gets off again and I don’t, I’m still happier with him here. It’s better than nothing, and nothing is what I had before.
As the game ends, he doesn’t move as the TV transitions into some late night show. I let out a yawn, moving to clean up, and as I pass by the couch, he grabs me by the leg, wrapping his arm around my thigh and tugging me closer.
“I’m sleeping here,” he says, and I swallow.
“Fine,” I reply, doing my best to look like I don’t care. I pick up his half-eaten Chinese food carton and try to move away, but he still holds me in place.
“I know it’s fine.”
“I’ll bring you a blanket,” I mumble, biting my lower lip.
“Why? You sleeping on the couch?” With that, he yanks me onto his lap.
“It’s not for me,” I answer. Glancing back at him, his eyebrows shoot up and his mouth drops open.
“You want to be sassy now? Okay then.” In a swift movement, he stands up, taking me with him, his arm wrapped around my waist as he hoists me into the bedroom. I manage to empty my arms onto the table without spilling too much. A laugh bubbles out of me as he tosses me on the bed.
I put up a fight, crawling away, but he grabs me by the ankle, jerking me toward him. Letting out a scream laced with laughter, I push away from him, but he’s so much stronger than me. Plus, I don’t really hate the idea of being at Cullen’s mercy, not anymore.
This thing between us has morphed from actual torment to superficial torment, like we’re playing the parts, fulfilling roles. He is my punisher, and I am welcoming my discipline.
“Come here, you little brat,” he commands, and I hear the playfulness in his tone. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t push him the way I do. Underneath it all, I did really fear Cullen, and maybe I still do. And while we are far from being friends and even farther from being lovers, we can still play with each other. Not everything needs to be so serious all the time.
He climbs onto the bed, covering my body with his. He wrestles my wrists from my body and pins them to the bed above my head.
Looking into his eyes with a dare on my face, I say, “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”
He sees the challenge and smiles wickedly. “I don’t think you deserve to finish,” he growls, placing an abrupt kiss to my neck. His lips and teeth are both soft and rough, kissing and nibbling, making me squirm with the too-good and too-painful contradiction, which is really just Cullen in a nutshell, isn’t it? I want all of him and none of him at the same time.
His feelings for me are clearly more of the love-to-hate variety, and as much as I tell myself to be careful, to not get too invested, too excited about the idea of him in my life, I can’t help it. I’m already used to it. I’m already addicted to the drug, desperate for more, the highs and the lows.
“But I’ve been so good,” I murmur sweetly as I wrap my legs around him.
“I did say I would ruin you for all other men, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did,” I reply.
When he pulls away to look down at me, there’s still a warm expression on his face, not so much the wicked smile, but something closer to affection and it makes my heart pump faster, a warmth spreading through my body at the sight of it.
But as soon as it’s there, it’s gone. He steels his features, almost as if he just realized he wasn’t playing the part. With it, my smile fades too.
The fire has gone out.
Not the fire of want and desire—the fire of hatred. The fire that was rocketing us closer and closer to sex, animalistic and wild. Without it, we are just two people who want to fuck each other, and that is all, and suddenly that doesn’t feel like enough.
He feels it too.
“Not tonight,” he mumbles as he climbs off me. I don’t bother arguing because I understand. Cullen let his guard down. We both did, and it ruined the moment. Sex with our guards down is too dangerous. The last thing either of us need are real emotions getting involved. Sticking to the warm blaze of hate is easier. Hate we can hide behind.
He spends the night anyway, and I let him crawl into my bed next to me. We both scroll through our phones absentmindedly in the pitch black room until I set mine aside and roll away from him, falling asleep quickly.
When I wake up, he’s gone. Not gone, gone. I assume he’s out for a run because his stuff is still here. While he’s out, I make coffee and grab my phone which is filled with notifications. They’re mostly from the dating app I haven’t checked in over a week. While the coffee brews, I swipe them all away. I’m not even interested in responding to any of the guys who have bothered to message me this week. I can almost guarantee they are all boring and not even worth my time, even if I wasn’t in the middle of whatever this is with Cullen.
When he comes back inside, he’s dripping with sweat. “Morning,” I greet him as I pull a water bottle out and toss it his way. He takes it without a word and chugs it down while his chest heaves and sweat drips.
My phone pings again, and I glance down at the same time he does, both of us noticing the yellow dating app icon pop up.
“What the fuck was that?” he asks, still panting from his run.
I can already see where this is going. He’s going to get possessive and ridiculous about me having my dating app still active, and I could honestly just delete the app because I don’t care about it, but then I remember the way things sizzled out between us last night and I get the itch to fight back.