Over the Fence Box Set Page 4

  “Oh, don’t give yourself so much credit, Axel.” She laughs off my question, but her movements are off.

  She’s trying too hard to come off snarky. “Maybe I just didn’t like the skills you had to offer. Maybe I don’t feel like being the trophy you bring back to your friends. Or maybe, hey, I bet this is a new one for you, I have values! Sorry to put the kibosh on your summer entertainment, but this won’t happen again.” She opens the door, pushing me out onto the front porch.

  Anger simmers deep in my veins and begins spreading through my body like wildfire. Before she can slam the heavy oak slab in my face, I plant a hand in the middle and shove hard; the door hitting the inside wall with a harsh thud. I crowd into her space, my large body looming over hers, making her look small and helpless.

  “It sure seemed like you were enjoying my skills, or do I need to remind you how hard you were riding my fingers? Keep lying to yourself, honey, it’ll only make that need you try to smother grow stronger. I’ll just leave happily knowing that tonight when you’re writhing around restlessly in bed, it’s the feeling of my hands you won’t be able to get off of your skin.”

  And with that, I grab the door handle, slamming it shut so hard behind me that it almost cracks the frame.

  7

  Minka

  Throwing the heavy textbook off my lap, I huff and slump back into the couch. I was mentally and physically drained. It had been a week since Owen had blown my world to smithereens and just like he predicted, every night I lay awake in bed, unable to will away the assault of memories that made my skin tingle and my center clench.

  I’ve tried my best to stay distracted, following my daily schedule and not veering. As if OCD was the cure-all for hot, muscled men who wanted to give you mind-blowing orgasms and then “fuck you into next Tuesday.”

  When I could finally pick myself up off of the floor where I’d collapsed in a confused and angry heap after Owen had slammed his way out, I’d gone into autopilot. My daily chores got done, I worked out, attended my pre-college summer courses and drowned myself in novels. But constantly, going on a loop in the back of my head, is Owen.

  His hands on me, the way he looked into my eyes with that molten stare that made me feel like I was going to combust. The way he rolled his hips in to meet my core and how freaking good that had felt. The smell of his musk as he moved his lips over mine, tasting and savoring how we fit together, all the while his hands exploring my cheeks, neck, and jaw.

  When he asked me if any guy had ever made me come, I didn’t know it was possible to be so turned on and embarrassed at the same time. His talk was dirty and exciting. I hadn’t answered though. He didn’t need to know he’d only been the second male to ever touch me like that and the only one to get me to that spot.

  Coming down from that high had been like nothing I’d ever experienced. But once I had, reality gave me a swift kick in the ass.

  He got me right where he wanted me. And he didn’t even have to work for it. He didn’t even know my middle name. God, I have officially become that girl again. I should have ignored his tactics, his charm, his smile.

  I told him multiple times that his panty-melting smile wouldn’t affect me, and then he went and incinerated them from the first moment he laid a finger on me. No wonder he lumped me into the slut category with all the other groupies he’d banged.

  That one unfinished sentence, “Do you …?” hit me square between the eyes. Was I that predictable that this was happening to me again? Did they all think of me as easy?

  I thought having some fun would be good for me. Letting go and figuratively getting back in the saddle. But when he broached the sex topic, all I could see was Gregory’s face looming over me.

  That smile. At the time I hadn’t suspect just how horrible the intentions behind it were. His eyes raking over my body, the uncomfortable feelings and sensations. How stupid I’d been.

  Owen could take the story back to his friends. They could all hurl whatever new abuse at me that they wanted, but I’d rest well knowing I hadn’t fallen into their trap. Again.

  You don’t get your hopes up for guys like Owen Axel. Not when they smile at you, not when they call you beautiful, not when they get you to start opening up, not ever.

  So I did what I always do, brought out the raging bitch, intending to repulse and piss him off. Except now, I’m thinking I was the one who ended up with the raw end of the deal because I hadn’t slept in five days.

  After I’d read a sentence in my biology textbook for the fifth time, I finally decided to take a break. Taking summer courses for college credit, in some ridiculous attempt to get some general education courses out of the way, had been my idea. It was bad enough I’d be in school for five years if I got into the Grover nursing program. And now I only had myself to blame for trying to cram knowledge into a brain on summer programming.

  Just when I thought I’d have to force myself to finish the required reading, I hear the front door open with a whoosh.

  “Minks, we have come to save you from your self-imposed solitary confinement!” Kels yells as her flip-flops clack on the tile in the hallway.

  She and Chloe round the corner to where I sit in the living room, huffing when they see the open textbooks and notebooks strewn about. Neither of them even bother with a phone call or the doorbell anymore, they are my family and come and go as they pleased.

  “Seriously? You’re doing homework? It’s the second week of summer break, you’re pale as a ghost and we haven’t talked to you in four days. What the hell is up with you?” Kelsey practically screams at me.

  “I’ve texted you like a million times! Either your phone is broken, highly unlikely, or more likely, you’re avoiding us,” Chloe goes in on me next.

  “I’m fine, guys, just been busy with these classes and um, getting chores done.” I know I’m lying straight through my teeth and lamely at that, but I can’t help it.

  “Oh bullshit, your dad can’t even bother to check if you’re alive, much less care if the house is clean.” Kelsey visibly winces at her beyond true statement. “Sorry, that was harsh. I just mean that you pulled those excuses out of your ass. Now, what’s going on? We’re worried.”

  I’ve been so wrapped up in my own head for the past week, that I hadn’t realized how much I need my friends. They would understand why I threw Owen out. I recount the tale, leaving out a lot of the naughty details I know they would feed on like hungry wolves.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa, let me get this straight. So he kissed you. Said dirty things in your ear and then hijacked your body to do very naughty, delicious things to you? I don’t get the problem here.” Chloe tips up her chin, looking very much like she was trying to imagine the sexual fantasy. I needed to shut down that visual recap ASAP.

  “It wasn’t as Fifty Shades as you think, so quit creating the porn scene running through your head right now.”

  “Yeah, I don’t get it either. Isn’t this what you wanted? You should be proud. He’s hot and willing, and lord knows you need to dust the cobwebs out of your downstairs. So what does this mean? God, I will be so proud if you tell me you’re striking up a friends-with-benefits deal!” Kels grins.

  “Kels, I threw him out. He was using me, and don’t ask me how I know, I just do. That’s what these guys do. They seduce you, charm you into crushing on them and then pull the rug out from under you and laugh while you fall down the rabbit hole. Besides, why would I willingly agree to have a fuck buddy? Especially, one who is a leader in the Mitchum cool crowd?” I arch a brow her way. “No, nothing is going on. I’m steering clear of Owen Axel.” I throw them a warning look, letting them know the conversation is done.

  “Come on. I mean not every guy is trying to claim you for some prize. What happened was horrible, but you can’t live your life thinking every guy is going to suddenly take out a machete and gut you.” Kelsey faces me, worry lines dotting her face despite the ridiculous metaphor she just made.

  “We’ll drop it for now,�
� Chloe jumps in, sensing my walls going up. “But I’ll just say, for someone who says nothing is going on and that she doesn’t care, you look like shit. No offense. Case in point, those bags under your eyes are humongous and it looks like you haven’t straightened your hair in days. And we do know you, so we know that means this is affecting you enough not to sleep or care about the rat’s nest forming on your head.” Shooting me a half-sympathetic, half-amused look, Chloe tries to run her fingers through said rat’s nest.

  “But we won’t talk about it until you are ready. Back to the original point of why we’re here. We’re going out. And before you argue, you’re coming so don’t even fight us.” Kelsey goes digging around in her bag. She pulls out a hair straightener, makeup, and begins to throw dozens of tiny little lacy items onto the coffee table.

  Realization setting in. I begin to back away from what I know is coming.

  “No, no, no. Uh-uh. Get away from me …” I try to make my way out of the room but Chloe grabs me from behind.

  “That’s right! Makeover time! Sit in this chair and let us work. No fussing like we said, you have no choice.”

  The small amount of energy I have left in my body flees and I give myself over to their torture, knowing that they’d prod and poke me for the next couple of hours whether I put up a fight or not.

  Three hours later I wiggle my way into the car, careful not to expose my butt in the white high-waisted shorts Chloe demanded I wear. It’s a hard feat though, because leaning too far forward means my boobs will go tumbling out of the lacy peach tank top I’d fought to wear.

  Kelsey tried to put a crop top over my head until I grabbed the curling iron and warned her that she’d get burned, literally, if she tried to force me into the belly-baring shirt.

  For all of their meddling, however, I did feel better. My mahogany hair fell in smooth sheets down my back thanks to Chloe’s expensive European hair straightener. Kelsey, the makeup master, had outdone herself. Smoky brown tones made my eyes appear even bigger than they already are, but in a pretty way and it made my eyes pop. Not like an alien, which is what usually happened when I tried to recreate this look. Not that I didn’t usually do myself up a little when we went out, but I usually went for casual chic and comfortable. Chloe and Kelsey always take it to the next level, but I have to admit that tonight their magic has me feeling confident.

  “Ok, I’m in the car now and clearly am not going to jump into traffic. Can you please tell me where we are going?” I eye my two best friends who are now sharing a giggle in the front seat.

  “Fine. We are having an all-out, ridiculously fun night attt … The Field!” Chloe claps, taking her hands off the wheel of her BMW.

  “Aw, man, come on guys, really? You thought you’d bring me out of my slump by bringing me to a party where all the people who worship Owen and his cronies will be drinking themselves silly and then getting naked in tents?” Jumping out into traffic really didn’t sound like such a bad idea at this moment.

  “Minks, relax. We brought your favorite beer, they’ll be playing the sickest music, and once we all get too wasted to stand, we’ll crash in our tent. Alone. It’s girl’s night, yes, but we could not pass up a Field Party,” Kelsey replies with a “duh” in her tone, as if this logic was going to convince me to put my party hat on.

  The Field is exactly what it sounds like, a gigantic empty field. It sits on the one-hundred-fifty-acre farm of the Merry family, who have five boys ranging from thirteen to twenty-four-years-old. Louis Merry was in our grade and thus had taken over Field Party duty from his older brother Jackson about a year ago.

  Their parents couldn’t care less what trouble they got up to on the property and it was a great tradeoff for the teens of Mitchum who were supplied with a place to get drunk, high, and naked without fear of being caught by the cops.

  Mitchum might be an affluent town with affluent people, but it was still North Carolina. These kids partied like country folk, even though one could consider Field Parties way more on the side of glamping.

  Chloe winds the car up the hilly roads leading out of Mitchum. The only people who live on this side of town are those rich enough to build McMansions on the farm properties that used to exist, or the one or two families who still actually own farms. Hooking a right at the discrete gravel road, the car begins to rumble over the rough three-mile stretch before Chloe pulls off, parking the car on a dryer portion of grass.

  Climbing out of the back seat, I can feel the bass of the rap music emanating out over The Field a few hundred yards away. My mood lifts considerably as the beat surges through my tendons, muscles, and bones. I might look like the typical conservative girl-next-door bookworm, but my guilty pleasure is rap and hip-hop. Although I like all music, those were my favorite. The bass and beat invade my body, sending pleasurable trills down my spine.

  I walk toward the party with more of a pep in my step now that I can feel the beat conjoining with my blood.

  “Oh, look, DJ Braxton is a bit happier to be here now that she’s drowning her feelings in sick beats.” Kelsey hooks her arm around my neck, smiling. She and Chloe know about my obsession and love to tease me for being “so hood.”

  I giggle as we walk arm in arm into the circle of partiers. The weight that has been sitting on my chest for the past seven days starts to lift. Maybe giving this Field Party a chance won’t kill me. Chloe plops her pink cooler on the ground in between two others, linking them to make a ring around the bonfire crackling in the center of the circle. Dusk has set in and when she hands me a beer, I don’t hesitate to take a long pull from the neck before letting it rest in my hands.

  I survey the party from outside the inner ring which is probably a metaphor for my life. I’m not necessarily an outcast, but anytime I’ve felt like I could rejoin school society and begin to trust my classmates again, someone in the popular crowd was only too happy to remind me of the past. And that someone was usually Allison.

  People laugh and talk while a few lacrosse bros jostle each other over who would be able to jump through the fire. By the end of the night, I was willing to bet all three did it, whether they were successful or not.

  The girls have already disappeared and I spot them flirting with two guys in our grade who I can’t quite remember the names of. I take a seat on the cooler, casually continuing to sip my beer, and feel a sudden jolt of awareness niggling my spine. My head begins to swivel as if it’s attached to a string, and my vision latches directly onto Owen. Shit.

  He’d just walked up the path into the circle and is surrounded by a small group. I see him smile as his friend Miles throws him a beer, and my insides go haywire. My stomach drops and my feet start to tingle in their haste to move my body off this cooler and into his arms. But I stay planted.

  I try to avert my eyes, but I can’t stop staring at how incredibly built and tan he is. Tonight, he’s opted for a red and white striped cutoff tank and navy blue khaki shorts that outline his perfect backside. He looks like a Ralph Lauren model. His usual bed-head hair has been slicked back to one side, giving him this drool-worthy European vibe. He holds his big body with ease and confidence and I want so badly to be under him, giving in to his oh-so-good fingers.

  Don’t let him have you. I need to repeat this mantra to myself. He didn’t think of me as anything but a challenging conquest and had proven it when he hadn’t bothered trying to contact me for the last seven days.

  Sure, he doesn’t have my cell, but he knows where I live and could have probably gotten my number from someone. The first thing he’d thought about was sex, not getting to know me. If that wasn’t an indicator of how truly wrong this whole thing was, then I didn’t know what was.

  I don’t even know why I’m so hung up on this. It’s not like I wanted to date the guy. I know how dangerous wanting something like that with someone like him is. He’s a total charmer who uses girls for what he wants. A total charmer who is the only other guy I ever allowed to do such an intimate thing to me. I inhale
a sharp breath trying to calm my frayed nerves.

  And suddenly he was looking at me. Great. I’d definitely been staring too long, again. Sitting on opposite sides of the fire, flames obscure my view as they climb higher into the darkening sky, but I can clearly see his eyes, now a shade of cobalt, glaring at me. Damn, he looks pissed. Was he seriously mad because I wouldn’t let him hit it and quit it?

  I’m like a deer in headlights. I should probably get up, stop this frozen connection we’re having, but I’m stuck, powerless to his visual assault. Bringing his gaze straight to my eyes, he looks into my face. And sneers.

  His look is so full of judgment and indignation that I actually flinch from the feeling of disgust punching its way through the air toward me. I must have not hidden my shock well because he ends our eye contact with a smug tilt of his head and then pulls a nearby blonde into his lap. She nuzzles her head into his shoulder while thrusting her chest into his face and he wraps his thick arm around her tiny waist.

  I can feel the embarrassment and anger creep into my face, my skin tingling from the shame. I kick myself for being so freaking naïve. Well, there’s the confirmation. Someone had told him. My reputation has preceded me and it was clear Owen was looking for a good-time gal and since I wouldn’t give it up, he found someone who would.

  Screw this. I said I was done letting these people dictate how I live. I wasn’t going through life second-guessing my every action and distrusting all I saw around me. I down the last of my beer and saunter over to the table Kelsey and Chloe are playing flip cup at.

  “Got room for an extra player?” I ask the guy running the table, adding a bit of insinuation to my tone. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Kelsey’s jaw nearly hit the floor.

  “Sure, gorgeous. But there is a little twist to this game. It’s not just regular ole flip cup.” He leans in closer, trying his best to get me to what, giggle or squeal? This guy clearly doesn’t know who I am.