Mason lets out another laugh. “There’s no way that girl is only with you.” He knows. He knows she has a problem. And I wonder if he sent those texts. He was thinking about her recently, didn’t he say that?
“Were you really thinking about Lily the other day, or were you just blowing smoke?”
He smiles as though I’ve given him permission to pursue her. Over my dead fucking corpse. “I mentioned her to my friends a couple weeks ago. We were talking about the girls at Penn who give the best head. Everyone agreed she was the best cocksucker on campus.”
And I can’t help it.
I deck him. Right in the face.
It didn’t feel good. My knuckles are on fire, and Mason touches his split lip, shocked.
Lily comes up behind me and starts tugging my arm, trying to lead me to our car.
I follow her, walking backwards so he doesn’t break my sharp gaze.
And then he says, “I knew it.”
I stop. My face falls because the look he wears—it’s full of detest, but it’s the kind of hate that’s been there for a while, accumulated throughout the years. He should be pissed about that punch to the jaw, not something so deep-seated.
“You were the one who slashed our tires because we fucked your girlfriend.” We. I cringe, never ever wanting to hear that again. We. Not I. Not me. Multiple guys.
And I may have popped a tire or two. I was drunk. I was eighteen. And I was pissed and resentful, more at myself than at anyone else. But I took it out on this guy. And I buried the memory.
“Have you been texting me?” I glare.
Mason grits his teeth.
Lily tries to drag me off again, but I stay my course.
“Have you?!” I shout. What I did—that was two years ago. But there are some things that no guy can let go. This is probably one of them.
“Bye, Lily,” Mason says, his eyes only planted on me. “We’ll hookup soon, yeah? And maybe I won’t tell anyone else what a good little slut you are.”
I shake off Lily, and I go crazy. I grab him by the face, pinching his cheeks together with one furious hand, and I shove his back over the hood of Lil’s car.
He struggles to stand up from my hold, but I pin him down, my kneecap pressing into his dick.
“You touch her, you even think about her, and I’ll have you in the ground before you can say thank you, Loren Hale. You go to the media, the press, and I will ruin you, starting with your soccer career. You don’t even know who I am, you motherfucker.”
He spits in my face, and I throw him off the car and onto the cement.
I think he’s about to come back and tackle me, but he staggers to his feet.
I don’t give him the last word. Lily physically pushes me into the passenger seat, knowing that I’m too crazed to drive right now. And she rolls up the window while Mason begins yelling again. We can’t hear him in the car, but he smacks our hood with two fists as we pull out.
And then we drive off, his middle finger in the rearview mirror.
My hands shake, and my heart pumps a mile a minute.
Lily says nothing. She stares faraway at the road, the silence blanketing the car. I need a drink. I need a goddamn drink right now. I run my hand through my hair, and then I glance back at her, checking her state of mind…and body.
Her eyes glass, but her knees are locked together, and her leg bounces. Fuck. I forgot. We’re on our way home to have sex. I lean back, hitting the headrest with an exasperated sigh. Everything is just so far out of my control.
When we’re stuck in traffic, bumper to bumper, Lily finally breaks the quiet. “You slashed their tires?”
I rub my mouth. “I may have…” It was a long time ago. We just entered college. There were more guys for her to fuck. She was gone almost every night, and I worried about whether or not she’d wake up crying. Whether I’d find her bruised and disposed of. It was horrible.
She nods to herself, letting this sink in. “What if he wasn’t the guy texting us?” she asks. “You just made him angrier.”
“Yeah…I see that.” I didn’t think running into her one-night stands would be this hard. I also didn’t think they’d ask to sleep with her while I was present. That sucked.
Lily breathes heavily.
“Hey,” I say, leaning towards her. I slide my hand on her leg. “It’s okay. We’re going to be fine.”
She nods, trying to believe it as much as me. If I don’t find this guy soon, I’ll lose my mind. I think I’m about there.
She turns on the radio, and we listen to music all the way home, our breath slowing together. Sometime later, we finally reach the house and pull into the garage. Lily snaps off her belt and turns to me.
“I don’t need to have sex anymore. I’m okay now.” Her words sound practiced, like she’s been reciting them in her head for the past hour.
“I don’t believe you,” I tell her.
Her face pales. “No, really Lo, I’m fine.”
My eyes fall to her legs, her thighs pressed tightly together. “So if we’re not having sex anymore, what are you going to go do?”
She shrugs, her shoulders tense and locked. She’s so fucking aroused. Just admit it, Lily. “Maybe…take a shower.”
“And masturbate?”
Her eyes widen. “No-no,” she stammers. “No, just shower.”
I lean forward and finger the button on her jeans.
“What…what are you doing?” she asks. Her chest collapses with a heady breath, something that has my need building.
“I’m checking.”
“For what?” she asks in a small voice.
I unzip her, and I watch her eyes plant on my hand as it descends down her pants and underneath her panties. She grabs my wrist as I slip my fingers inside of her. And she contracts around them, wet and eager and so ready.
“You’re not aroused?” I ask again.
Her head tilts back, her eyes closed, her hand gripping my wrist so I don’t move. “No,” she breathes.
“You’re a little liar.”
“I’m not.” She gasps as I push deeper, in and out. “Lo,” she cries. Her back begins to arch, trying to drive my fingers further inside.
We need to move this upstairs. I disentangle from her tight clutch and slip my fingers out. “Go upstairs,” I tell her. “Take off all your clothes, lie still on the bed, and I’ll make you feel better.”
She nods wildly, wanting nothing more than for me to take her mind off of what just happened. She opens the door and then hesitates. “Are you not coming with me?”
“I’ll be there in a second.”
“Lo—”
“I just need a minute.”
She glances at the raw skin on my knuckles, and then she nods again and heads into the house. When the door closes behind her, I grab my phone and dial a number.
The line clicks after the third ring. “Hey. How was the first day on the job?”
I can’t speak. I shouldn’t have called him. I’m about to hang up.
“Lo?” Ryke’s voice turns serious. “Hey, talk to me.”
I let out a breath. “Tell me why I shouldn’t.” I pinch my eyes. I want this to end. This torment. These feelings. I want to help Lily without needing something to drown my own thoughts.
“Because one drink isn’t worth what you’ll feel in the morning.”
“That’s not good enough.”
“You’ll puke,” he reminds me. That’s right, I’m on Antabuse. One sip of alcohol and I’ll be sick.
I pause, wondering if I still could test it out. Maybe I could. I grimace. Maybe I couldn’t.
“Because you love Lily more than that.”
And it hits me. I’m here. In the fucking car. Debating about a stupid glass of alcohol when Lily is waiting for me upstairs, fighting her compulsions, probably seconds from touching herself. And I’m supposed to be there to help her say no. To stop her. I’m the guy looking out for her the way Ryke is there for me.
Rose trusted that I would be able to stay sober and help Lily. And this is the one thing I want to do right.
“I have to go,” I say.
“Wait.” His voice pitches. “Do I need to come over? Are you okay?”