He reaches for me, pulling me into him, and grinding his erection against my belly. "Then give me what I need right now. Let's fuck. Right here. Right now."
"What?" I ask, rearing back in shock.
He lifts a brow and smirks. "What? You're here for me, you said. No matter what I need, right? Well, right now I need a really good fuck and youaremy girlfriend, right?"
This is like a flashback—only worse. I know this boy. This is the one who's frustrated and needs a punching bag. Well, not this time.
"No," I whisper.
"What?" he asks.
"No," I say louder, lifting my eyes to his.
He smirks cockily. "No, you don't wanna fuck?"
I shake my head. "No. No, I don't wanna fuck; and no, I'm not your girlfriend."
"That's new."
"Yeah? Well, I was your punching bag for years. Not anymore. Go fuck Alison and scratch your itch with her," I growl.
He rubs his chin with his thumb and forefinger. "That's not a bad idea."
I hold steady even though I want to flinch as if he slapped me—because that's exactly what it feels like. It feels like he slapped me hard across the face then punched his fist into my chest and ripped my heart out.
"Better wear a condom. I'm sure she's full of STD's," I call over my shoulder, walking away.
He grabs my arm, spinning me around.
"Get your fucking hand off me!" I shout. "I. Am. Done. You willnotbe taking your shit out on me. Not anymore. I deserve better." Traitorous tears slip from my eyes.
"Liv—"
I shake my head at his tender tone. Too little, too late.
"Get your shit straight, Cameron. I don't even know who you are right now." With that, I turn and walk to the house, wiping the last of the wetness from my cheeks. I've given too many of my tears over the years for reasons like this. It stops now.
I don't look back as I enter the kitchen, walking through to the large living space, and toward the front door where Bash is waiting for me, his fists opening and closing.
"You all right?" he asks, draping his arm over my shoulders and pulling me in to his side.
I nod.
"Why does this not surprise me?" Cam booms behind us, loud enough to draw everyone's attention.
I turn around and sigh. "What are you talking about now?" I ask, so completely tired of his shit.
"You and Smith, here. Have you two been fucking while I've been busting my ass on the game? Because I haven't given you enoughattention?" he derides.
"Are you serious?" I ask with a roll of my eyes. Bash's hand tightens on my shoulder, just a little but it's enough for Cam to notice.
"Whatever. Like I give a fuck, anyway. You want her? You've got her, Smith. She's too fucking needy for me anyway," he barks, then walks back through the now silent crowd.
I roll my eyes, hiding my hurt and embarrassment, and turn to Bash. "Let's go."
We walk down the porch steps and out onto the sidewalk.
Bash pulls me closer and I wrap my arm around his waist, leaning into him—leaningonhim.
