Evan
I’ve not slept in three days.
Kissing Scarlett was a bad fucking idea. Not because it was a bad kiss. Not because of everything that’s going on with her family and my family’s pressure, but the fact that I enjoyed it so much that I want more. And more. And more.
My dad has been texting me non-stop, and calling me since then, asking for more updates. I don’t know what I’m supposed to tell him. I’ve started to get real feelings for this girl and she’s still unsure whether or not to trust her uncle or the Gerard dude. My money is still on her dad and Gio being involved in it. Sure, Gerard is sketchy, but what real motives would he have to want to take downVoss?
I couldn’t focus on that anyway. Not after feeling her body pressed against mine. The noises she made when I touched her. How responsive she was to every light brush of my mouth on her neck, my fingers in her hair, my hand over her breast, pinching her nipple, the way my cock swelled at the moan that left her mouth.
I’ve spent the last few days thinking about her and only her and it’s been absolute torture. It’s a problem, I know. But it’s not like my other obsessions or compulsions. This is something more.
She could have regretted it. She could have run to the bathroom, scrubbed her mouth clean to get rid of the taste of me. For someone who likes to run her mouth all the time, she doesn’t exactly talk much about her feelings and it's driving me fucking crazy.
I try not to look at her while we watch the show, but it’s hard not to. Everyone’s wearing comfortable clothes today and seeing her in those baggy sweatpants, a crop top, her hair tied into a messy bun is not helping the thousands of thoughts running through my brain.
I steal glances at her while she watches the sitcom, snuggled between her friends. Her face is a little red and I can tell she’s forcing herself not to look at me. She’s twisting the ribbon around her wrists. Maybe she’s nervous too.
God, I hope she’s nervous too. It’ll make me feel better about this.
* * *
I’m actually so engrossed in the show that I don’t notice that it starts to rain. Hard. We’re covered by a plastic sheet on top of the waterproof gazebo, but the rain picks up and the roof starts to dip.
Miles jumps out of his seat, screaming expletives and Wren laughs at him as we all stand up, starting to pack things away. Most of the food was finished anyway, so I shove it into a plastic bag.
“Shit,” Miles groans. “I only planned on getting one thing wet tonight and it wasn’t my PlayStation.”
Everyone laughs at his joke as he rushes to get his wires and other equipment that we weaved through the kitchen window. Kennedy and Xavier rush out after him, their hands full of whatever they could pick up. A roar of thunder and another downpour of rain shakes the gazebo as Wren picks up the blankets, almost tripping over as she runs inside.
“Everyone with devices, go in first,” Miles shouts, his voice almost drowning out in the rain. “Can you guys take down the gazebo? My mom will kill me if it gets ruined and beat down by the rain.”
“Sure,” Scarlett grumbles. I turn and it’s just us two now, staring at each other. She rolls her eyes at me before walking through the gazebo. “You do that one. I’ll do this one.”
I move to the outside of it, instantly getting drenched with rain as I fumble to unpeg it. Why are we constantly getting caught in storms? The universe must be playing tricks on us. It’s hard to sort out the gazebo when the rain is making everything slippery and I’m already on edge as it is.
I’m still detangling the first peg when Scarlett comes around to my side. “You’re doing it wrong,” she chides.
“Doyouwant to do it, Angel?” I ask, looking up at her while the rain streams down my face like tears.
She rolls her eyes before bending down, slightly pushing me to the side as she unhooks it with ease. As she moves to the other one, I start packing up the other sticks into the bag they came in. She finishes it in a few seconds, and we silently work together to fold it up and shove it back into the bag.
sling the bag over my shoulder, running across the grass to the backdoor. I’m careful up the steps, glancing back at Scarlett making sure she doesn’t fall. I sigh when she gets to me unscathed, and I jiggle the handle. It’s locked. Of course, it’s locked because God likes to test us more and more every day.
I turn to her and she’s staring up at me, her eyes wide from a step below me. “It’s locked,” I tell her.
“This is your house too. Don’t you have a key?” she asks. I check my pockets and come up empty. I never use the backdoor anyways. She sighs, turning her back to me as she sits down on the step. “Of course, you don’t have a key.”
“Of course, it’syourfriend that’s probably behind the reason we’re locked out here,” I say. Kennedy is sneaky. She has been since the day I met her, subtly trying to push me and Scarlett together. I pull out my phone to call Miles and it goes straight to voicemail. The same with Xavier.
“She becomes a Swiftie and suddenly she thinks she’s a mastermind,” she mutters. I have no idea what that means.
She looks up at me then, the rain soaking her face as she pulls her knees to her chest. I take a seat next to her, throwing the bag onto the ground. She rests her head on her arms across the top of her knees. She whispers, “We’re messing everything up, Branson.”
?The Beautiful Dream - George Ezra
Apart from when she cried in the museum, this is the most vulnerable I’ve ever seen her since then. She looks tired. Exhausted, actually. As if keeping this game is as tiring as it is for me.
“What do you mean?”
