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Needing a drink, and some air, I get up from the couch and make my way into the kitchen. The place is a fucking disaster with open liquor bottles scattered across the countertop, and dirty glasses piled up in the sink. There’s trash laying around on the floor, as if that’s the place to be putting empty beer bottles when the perfectly empty trashcan is sitting right fucking here. Assholes. Though I would love to see my father’s face if he came home to this mess. He would shit bricks.
Ignoring all of that, I walk straight to the bottle of whiskey, find myself a cup and pour it into a glass. I’d drink right from the bottle, but that would be dangerous as fuck and I don’t want a recap of what happened last time I got drunk.
Ava doesn’t need to get any more ideas about the person I am. A heavy hand lands on my shoulder and I swing around, ready to slug whoever it is when my eyes meet Clark’s. Worry creases his forehead. The jackoff looks like he walked off the cover of a magazine. Where I’m ripped jeans, t-shirts, and boots, Clark is polos, designer jeans, and Nike.
We shouldn’t be friends at all, not even run in the same circles and yet I wouldn’t trade the fucker for the world.
“She’s fucking pissed,” he tells me, as if I don’t already know it.
“Yeah.” I shrug. “So? What’s your point? So was I when I found out she was a fucking lying pig. Don’t let her doe eyes fool you, she’s a lying bitch.”
Clark’s gaze widens a bit and I know he’s taken back by my words. Usually I’m not such a dick, but with Ava reappearing in my life, it seems a new shade of asshole has risen from inside of me.
“How long are you going to play this game? What’s the end result? Should I wait to sneak in to fuck her until after you’ve broken her?”
My jaw tightens. “First, it isn’t a game, second, the end result is always going to be the same. I won’t stop until she’s admitted that she lied. Until I feel that she’s suffered enough humiliation and disappointment.”
Clark nods. “And what if it’s never enough? Hurting her won’t change the past. She seems like a nice girl. I mean Sarah said her dad’s in rehab, maybe some shit went down that we don’t know about. I can find out – I mean if you want me to, that is.”
I can feel my hand curling around the cup. The temperature rising. Forcing myself to inhale, I take a gulp of the dark liquid, letting it burn down my throat, and settle deep inside my stomach. Instead of it cooling my body, it warms it, making me feel ten times hotter than I already am.
“She seems like a nice girl, because that’s what she wants you to see. Nice girls don’t lie. They don’t destroy families for fun. Nice girls are nice. Ava isn’t nice. As for the past, it might not change what happened, but it’ll certainly make me feel better.” I bring the cup to my lips again and swallow down the rest of its contents.
My insides are blanketing with warmth once more, the dull ache in my chest becoming less noticeable.
“And what about her father? Do you want me to…?” Clark’s voice trails off as the lights flick off and the room goes dark. Panic ensues, and people start running for the door, the sounds of screams and feet stomping across the wood floor fill the room. I don’t move though. I let everyone filter out first.
What. The. Fuck.
“What the hell? How did you lose power?” Clark asks, a perplexed look on his face. There’s an uptick in my blood pressure, a shift in the air. I can taste the rush of adrenaline. Gritting my teeth, I crumple the cup in my hand as if it’s a piece of paper.
She wouldn’t…would she? Not unless she had a death wish, right?
Who am I kidding, she would, and I suppose I wouldn’t expect any less of her after the way Sarah embarrassed her. But nonetheless, this is my party and my fucking house, and if she’s going to shut down my shit for the night, then she’s going to have to entertain me in other ways. I hope she’s the praying type because she’s going to need all the prayers she can get.
“Make sure everyone gets the fuck out. I don’t want any stragglers left behind. I’m going to take care of the brat,” I tell Clark, and swipe at my bottom lip with my thumb. I toss the cup onto the counter and stomp off in the direction of the garage, little tendrils of excitement slither down my spine.
This cat and mouse game we’re playing has my cock permanently hard. I’ve never been so hard for a girl before, let alone one that I hate. It’s like my body isn’t getting the fucking memo. She’s not worthy of my dick, no matter how soft, how beautiful, how tempting she is.
