Page 12 of Bruised

“Yeah, but Oliver’s pretty boring, isn’t he?”

“And you’re not?”

His teeth gleam with a smirk. “Just give me a try, puppy. You’ll find out.”

My breath comes in short bursts, and my hands sweat so much they feel clammy when I set the glass aside on the counter. “No, thanks,” I squeak, high-pitched and not too convincing.

I have to admit I’ve lost this one, but I fear I’ll lose even more if I stay, so I do the one thing I can do: escape.

I slink past Mason’s intimidating form and all but run up the stairs, back into the safety of Oliver’s room. Oliver is still snoring soundly, and I let out a relieved breath. I didn’t even do anything, yet the thought of him knowing what was going on downstairs makes me squirm.

I lie back on my mattress and squeeze my eyes shut, dick throbbing, mind reeling, and the fire in my gut flaming hot.

What am I supposed to do? I promised Oliver I’d ignore him, but I’ve already failed. I can’t let it go further than this.

I don’t know how to handle him, but I have to find a way. If I resist, he only seems to like it more, and if I ignore him, my silence only leaves him with more openings to tease me. I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t.

This summer was supposed to be lighthearted and fun, but now it’s more of a test of willpower than anything else. It’s not my fault that he looks at me like that. It’s not my fault that he seems to know exactly what I want… I mean, what I shouldn’t want… and what I definitely shouldn’t want with my best friend’s dangerous big brother.

“Fuck,” I whisper and squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for sleep to come and wishing away the hardness between my legs.

4. THE WHIMS OF DESIRE

I stay up late for a few more nights to see if Lane makes a repeat visit to the kitchen, but he never does. Maybe he learned to bring a glass of water with him to bed, or maybe he’s just trying to avoid being in the same room alone with me without Oliver watching over us like a hawk.

No matter. I’m willing to wait and bide my time. We have all summer, after all. I could make my intentions even more obvious and speedrun getting Lane into my bed—that’s what Oliver thinks I’m after, and sure, it’s part of what I want, but not all of it.

I want the chase.

I want the submission.

And most of all, I want Lane to come to me himself. I want him to choose it. I want to make him beg for it.

Seems like that’s going to take a bit more time and a bit more subtle or not-so-subtle nudging. Whether that happens in impromptu meetings in the kitchen or not doesn’t really matter. We live in the same house—we’re bound to run into each other sooner or later.

Besides, I have other stuff to do. Namely, texting my friend Tess and announcing my early release.

I tap my fingers over the keyboard and press send, a slight knot in my stomach. It’s not that I don’t want to see her; it’s that I don’t know if she wants to see me.

Two seconds later, I get an array of emojis and question marks and exclamation marks, followed by an “I’m coming over right now. Where are you?”

Relieved, I smile at the screen and send her the address, and less than half an hour later, she’s at the door, throwing her arms around my shoulders.

I hug her back for a long time, as the result of being stuck in a hostile environment for months hits me harder than I thought it would. I didn’t just miss being free; I missed my friends. I made some in prison, sure, if you can call them friends. But it’s different on the outside. Unlike in prison, you don’t have to constantly worry that people are only being friendly because they’re trying to get shit out of you. Money, a fuck, a favor…

Well, I guess the outside isn’t much different after all, but at least Tess isn’t like that.

She’s got her strawberry-colored hair in a messy bun, and she’s wearing blue jeans and a pink T-shirt with a swirly print saying “Girls do it better.” She can be a bit rough around the edges, like me, but she’s got a good heart—not so much like me.

“Damn, this is where you grew up?” She passes through the arched doorway leading into the living room. “It’s nice. Really nice.”

I shrug. “I guess.”

Mom’s job meant Oliver and I grew up with everything we needed and more. It’s pretty easy to forget how good I grew up, at least when it comes to money. And yet, I still managed to completely fuck up my life.

“I wanted to throw you a welcome back party,” Tess says over her shoulder, “but I don’t know if that’s appropriate. Also, you’d hate it.”

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, I’d hate it.”