Authors: Tijan
"The worst I've done is kill 'em…"
I turned and sauntered away but not before hearing Michael mutter behind me, "Holy God, that woman."
Why didn't I want the fraternity at Bryce's party? The real reason is that I didn't want any distraction from his homecoming. I didn't want any drama. I wanted Bryce to feel relaxed, around people he used to know. The frat guys were not relaxing and definitely not drama-free. But I already knew they'd crash the party. It made sense that they'd want to be at the best party around, especially one that was thrown for the local jock celebrity, as Grace had termed it.
Ah…Grace.
I'd have to fix that. I knew that I'd hurt her feelings, but a part of me didn't understand why she was so upset. Yes. I had publicly exclaimed that she had feelings for Corrigan, but that wasn't exactly top-secret. I knew it. Grace knew it. I was pretty sure a whole bunch of other people knew it, Corrigan included. Besides, everyone knew the details of my personal life. If the campus gossip mill hadn't covered it, the tabloids from Europe got the rest. They
really
loved Bryce over there, and they
really
hated that he was leaving for a U.S. team.
My phone rang.
And speaking of Bryce…
I grinned as his name flashed over the screen. "What's up?"
"Hey, I'm here," he said.
"You sound refreshed. Shouldn't you have jetlag or something?" And what did he mean he was here? He wasn't supposed to show up until Friday, two days from now.
Bryce laughed. "I slept on the private jet, Sheldon. And yes, I know it's disgusting that I get to fly in private planes now, but deal with it. I don't suffer jetlag, and I don't care."
"Whatever," I growled but grimaced.
Could I be any more annoying?
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," I clipped out.
"Sheldon, what's wrong?"
"Nothing!"
"Tell me what's wrong or I'm going to have my mom come over for dinner tonight," he threatened.
I buckled—
damn it
. "I was a bitch to Grace."
"When are you not?" Bryce laughed.
He knew me too well. "And I told our psych class that she has feelings for Corrigan."
Bryce quieted on the other end for a moment. "I thought they'd already talked about that. Didn't Corrigan tell me something about that?"
I shrugged. "News to me. Grace hasn't said anything to me about it, but she's been stupid over him since our senior year. Good gracious, how long is she going to pine for the moron?"
Bryce mused, "Well, it's out now. They'll figure it out."
"And I'm the quintessential bitch, like always."
"You're just you, Sheldon. Get over it and get home. I've missed you."
I grinned and picked up my pace for the car. "My dad did have a pool installed…"
"Done. I'll meet you there." And Bryce hung up.
As I approached my car, I shook my head. Bryce was back. He was back, and he was at my house—it felt good.
It felt…like normal.
When I pulled into my driveway, I was a little confused when I didn't see Bryce's red Miata. Then I hit the button for the three-car garage, and there it was, all nice and shiny. It was one of Bryce's guilty splurges while he was in Europe. When I decided to come back to California, he'd sent it with me. Bryce said it wasn't the same driving it around when I wasn't there. So I'd been driving it until the last few weeks when Corrigan insisted he wanted his time because when Bryce came home, he'd lose his chance with the Miata. I hadn't cared, and it had been with Corrigan since.
Guess Bryce got it back.
As I let myself into the house and walked down the adjoining hallway, I caught sight of his luggage. A year ago, he had left with a soccer bag over his shoulder, and now he returned with sleek, black, pristine-looking luggage. I wasn't sure how I liked the changes, but, no matter the money, Bryce was still Bryce.
Bryce and me were still Bryce and me.
I quickly shed my clothes for a bikini and strode towards the pool. I pushed open the door, and there he was, in a brisk front crawl through the pool. The water glistened over his shoulders, which rippled and bunched as he continued to pace himself. He made swimming look easy.
And then he stopped at the edge and lifted his head.
I groaned and smiled in delight at the short black Mohawk, sea blue eyes, and chiseled cheekbones. Bryce flashed a smile, full of intent, as he lifted himself out of the pool.
"Hey," I murmured as he stalked closer.
Another girl might've stepped back from the dark promises in his eyes, but not me. Never me. Bryce didn't say a word as he continued to move until he was right in front of me. And then he swept me up. I entwined my legs around his waist, and his lips were on mine.
Holy
—I gasped into his mouth. I had missed this. I had missed his taste. I was lost in it until I was lowered to a couch. I glanced around, dazed, and saw that Bryce had carried me into one of the changing rooms.
"Baby," I gasped and arched my neck. Bryce's lips suckled downwards as they lingered at all the spots I liked, and then he moved to my breasts. It didn't take long until both pieces of my bikini were gone. As this happened, I raised a leg up and pushed at Bryce's swimming trunks.
He chuckled as he helped remove the last piece of clothing. And then he was back, his eyes darkened with desire as his hands skimmed over every curve.
"Holy hell, Bryce," I gasped and wrapped my arms around his shoulders as I brought my body flush against his.
"Sheldon," he whispered. His hands slid down my back, took hold underneath my thighs, and lifted me further up on the couch.
I snapped a finger towards a small cupboard in the corner. Bryce understood and quickly crossed the room. A plea escaped my lips in protest at the sudden loss of contact, but Bryce was back in a flash, condom in hand. He paused above me and kissed me slowly. His lips fitted mine perfectly and his tongue swept in to rub against mine for a heart stopping moment.
"Now!" I snarled.
Bryce chuckled into my mouth and flicked his tongue against mine once more.
I groaned. He was playing with me.
My eyes snapped open and I found myself staring into his. Bryce swept his tongue around my mouth once more before he cupped my cheek in his hand and whispered, "You're not leaving me again."
It wasn't a question but a command.
I nodded, weak in that moment. There wasn't anywhere else I wanted to be.
And then Bryce had the condom on and slid inside. I arched my back and grasped onto his shoulders as Bryce started the rhythm. He moved in and out, slowly, and then picked up speed. I was helpless underneath the onslaught of pleasure. Time slid away until I felt the pinnacle nearing and then suddenly, I gasped as I shot over it.
Bryce trembled as he climaxed, and we held onto each other as we rode out the waves.
He rested on me, and I welcomed his heaviness as I skimmed a hand down his back. I swept it back up and continued in a soothing motion. Bryce rubbed his thumb down my arm and moved to caress my leg.
I grinned in contented fatigue and murmured, "And that's only the beginning for the night."
Bryce barked out a laugh and kissed me. He raised his head. "I meant what I said. You aren't going anywhere now."
My grin vanished, and I sobered. I knew what he meant and broke out, "I'm sorry that I left, I just couldn't…I wasn't me anymore, not at the end. I'm sorry."
He skimmed a hand in my hair, tucked a strand behind my ear, and bent down to kiss me again. Then he whispered, his breath teasing my lips, "Just don't do it again. I need you."
I closed my eyes as I heard those words. I heard the raw truth and wrapped my arms around him in a breathtaking hug.
I needed him too.
Bryce let out a shuddering breath, one that wracked his whole body, and seemed to collapse on top of me. We stayed there, wrapped in each other's arms, until my eyelids became heavy and closed. I drifted asleep, underneath Bryce's much needed weight.
And then my eyes snapped open, sometime later, and I raised myself up. I was disoriented. "Bryce?"
He grunted from behind me.
That's when I heard whatever woke me up: a crashing sound, followed by laughter, and then splashing.
"What the hell?" I bit out and crossed to the door.
"Hey," Bryce called out. "Put your suit back on."
I frowned and looked around the room. "Where is it?"
He muffled his laughter and rolled to a stand. As Bryce looked in one corner, I glanced to the other.
"Got it." And he threw both pieces at me.
I caught them, but glared. "You're supposed to respect me afterwards. Not throw my clothes at me."
Bryce rolled his eyes and sat on the couch to pull his swimming trunks back on. "Half the time you get all pissy if I treat you with respect." He stood and pulled me into his arms. "And besides, you already know I love you." Then he pressed two quick kisses to my forehead, checked to make sure I was clothed, and swept open the door to call out, "Hey fellas!"
A cheer rang out, and I groaned because I recognized those voices.
Corrigan appeared in the doorway a moment later with a wolfish grin on his face. "Just like old times, right?"
"You almost walking in on us having sex? Yes, just like old times."
Corrigan threw his head back in laughter and then bounded over to wrap both arms around me. He lifted me in the air and bounced us both up and down as he chortled, "You love it! The gang is back together again! About effing time, Sheldon!"
I laughed and patted his arm. "Put me down, idiot. And why are you making it sound like I had anything to do with it?"
Corrigan placed me back on my feet and gave me an incredulous look. "Seriously, Sheldon. You know why."
"No, I don't." And I didn't.
"Bryce is back because of you. Admit it. He needs you just as much as you need him."
"Bryce came back because the California Suns offered him a better deal on their soccer team."
"Uh huh," he replied. Then he wrapped his arms around me again. "I don't care that you're in denial. I'm just happy that the crew's back together again."
I heard guffaws of 'hey dude' and 'did you get laid a lot?' and raised my eyebrows at Corrigan. "Did you have to bring them?
All
of them?"
Corrigan shrugged and ducked as I swatted at him. "They're my brothers. They wanted to meet Bryce."
"Whatever. Just get 'em out of here by tonight and not too late. I have class tomorrow, and I already know I'll be losing sleep as it is."
Corrigan nudged me with a wink. "Maybe you should sleep now, and then you'll be rested for Bryce tonight."
"You're disgusting." I hit him, but the idea had merit…
"Just trying to help. I care about your sex life."
"More like you care if I'm a bitch or not." And then I thought about it. "Are you dating someone new? You only care if I'm nice if you've got a new girl."
I narrowed my eyes
, but saw the quick panic in Corrigan's. Then he ran his hand through his shaggy blond hair. That's when I knew for sure. "Oh my god. You're dating someone that I won't be able to stand, aren't you?"
"No. Seriously Sheldon. You're all cute with your choppy brown hair and your smoking bod, but the attitude—it wears a little thin sometimes."
I narrowed my eyes. Corrigan never commented on my looks. He'd refer to me as hot or bodylicious, but he never commented on my hair—never. He was off, something was off. And then I knew. "You heard about what I said about Grace, didn't you?"
A wall slammed over his green sparklers.
And I had my answer. He had, and he was pissed about it.
"Why do you care? It's not like it's a secret. Bryce said that you talked about it to him."
"But I haven't talked to you about it because you're Grace's friend. Now it's out, and it has to be dealt with. You're pushing me to deal with it, Sheldon. And it's not your place. You should've kept your mouth shut." The gleeful boy had changed to show the anger that Corrigan usually kept in check.
"I would've, but she was pissing me off." I didn't care if Corrigan had a temper. We both did.
"Why was she pissing you off? Because it's so
hard
to do that."
"You don't know. You weren't there."
"Then explain it to me!" Corrigan yelled back. He was right in my face.
My nose was almost pressed to his as I cried out, with a hitch in my throat, "Because she constantly thinks I'm going to break. She can't get over what happened a year ago, and I'm sick and tired of her reminding me about it."
Corrigan sobered instantly. "I'm sorry, Sheldon."
I pressed on now that the dam had broken, "She can't let it go. I'm tired of always seeing this look in her face, like she thinks of me as a victim or something. I don't want her goddamn pity. I'm tired of it."