"Bexley, I need… I need you."
Pushing up, I place my hand in the dirt beside her head and stare down into her heated hazel eyes. They're sparkling with excitement, her cheeks still pink and her parted lips swollen from my kiss.
“Bexley, please,” she begs, grinding herself against me.
“Fuck,” I growl, finding her lips again, and my hand slips up her body until I squeeze her breast through the fabric of her dress and bra.
A moan vibrates up her throat as she arches her back for me.
Unable to resist, my hand descends once more, over her smooth stomach until I find the fabric of her skirt around her waist.
Her entire body trembles when my fingers gently run over her pussy. Her panties are soaked, showing me just how desperate for this she is.
Slipping the lace to one side, I push one finger inside her. She’s so wet, so fucking tight.
“Oh God,” Mia whimpers, her back arching once more as I thrust deeper. “Bexley.” She throws her head back in pleasure as I rub at her walls, forcing me to stop kissing her.
I sit up and run my eyes down her body, focusing on where I’m touching her—not that I can see anything behind the fabric of her skirt, but I know, and it drives me fucking crazy.
Her moan of pleasure forces me to look back up at her once again, and when I do, I find her wild eyes staring up at me and realization slams into me.
I can’t do this.
I glance up briefly when some noise from the party in the distance filters down to me, and it's like someone's thrown a bucket of ice water over me.
"I-I'm sorry."
"W-what?" Her voice is no more than a whisper where she's so lost to her desire.
“Y-you’re drunk. I can’t do this.”
“I’m not that drunk. Bexley, please,” she begs, but it’s too late.
I pull my finger from her body and jump up. My chest heaves, my cock straining behind my jeans as I stare at her, the desire covering her face vanishing, quickly replaced by a myriad of emotions that make my chest ache. I didn’t mean to hurt her.
“I’m sorry,” I choke out.
“Fuck you, Bexley.” She scrambles to smooth her skirt back down. “Fuck you.”
Before I even have time to think up a response, Mia jumps up and takes off running into the trees, vanishing into the darkness.
“FUCK,” I roar, pulling my leg back and kicking the rock beside me.
Pain ricochets up my leg, my toe burning from the connection. But it’s the least I deserve for taking advantage of her like that.
She wanted it, a little voice says in my head, but I slam it down.
It would have been so easy to lose myself in her. To take what she was offering to me and forget how much she drank.
The old me would have. Hell, I'd have already been inside her if I was the same person who was exiled from Sterling Bay. I'd probably be riding her bare, with little regard for anything else but my own pleasure.
But that's not who I am anymore.
I said goodbye to that guy the moment I stepped out of line with Remi. The first crack of her boyfriend—Ace Jagger’s—knuckles, and I knew everything was about to come crashing down around my feet. I knew before he ruined my future by shattering the one good thing I had in my life: my throwing arm. I was spiraling out of control thanks to my position in the school, my need for power and respect, and my crumbling home life.
It was all just too much, and I lost the person I used to be. The person Remi used to want to spend time with. The person the other kids at school used to look up to.
My need for more vodka means I don't hang around any longer than necessary. Instead, I march straight back to the party and snatch the first bottle I find.
I've got the cap in my hand and the neck halfway to my lips when I hear Alex's familiar voice behind me. "Here you are,” he says. “Where did you—oh," he chuckles.
"What's so funny?" I snap, not in any kind of mood to be laughed at.
It was fucking easier when I'd ruined my conscience with drugs.
"I was going to ask where you went, but the girl that's all over your face kinda gave me my answer."
"What?" I ask, rubbing at my lips only to find dark lipstick on my thumb. Great. "Oh."
"So, who was she?" he asks with a knowing glint in his eye. He's almost as aware as I am of my lack of action since turning up at Gravestone High last winter.
"I… um… I don't know," I lie. "Just some girl I stumbled across down by the lake."
"Nice.” He grins. “Any good?"
"I don't kiss and tell."
"Well, you should. It looks like you had fun."
"Whatever," I mutter, finally taking a pull from the bottle in my hand.
The vodka burns, but it's not enough. It's nowhere near enough, and for the millionth time since I arrived in Gravestone, I crave more. Crave anything that will numb the pain of my past and make me forget.
"I need to get out of here."
"But we just got here. Have a drink and chill out, man."
I look around, wondering who might have something stronger than this vodka, and that move is enough for me to know that I need to leave.
"Have a good night, yeah? I'll catch up with you tomorrow or something." Without saying another word, I take off, and by some fucking miracle he doesn't even try to call after me.
The winding driveway that seemed to take forever to get down when we first arrived is even longer on the way back. But the farther away I get from the party, the more the tension seeps from my body, and I know I'm doing the right thing.
The campus is in silence
