"Stop." He pulls my hand away and I notice his heavy breathing.
"Why? Why can't I touch you?"
"Because it makes me want to..." He blows out a breath. "...do shit we shouldn't do."
"Like now? Or ever?"
He stares at me with those intense blue eyes. "What are you saying? You want me to fuck you? Knowing my reputation?" He huffs and walks away. "Is that what you've been doing this whole time? Trying to add yourself to the list?"
"What? No! Of course not."
He turns to me. "I thought you were different."
I race up to him. "Dean, what are you talking about? I was NOT trying to have sex with you. I was going to give you a hand job or a blow job. That's it. And it was only because of what you did to me just now on the counter." I look away. "I've never had someone do that before."
"A guy's never fingered you?"
"Not like that," I say, looking back at him. "And not very often. Most guys skip the warm up and go right to the main event. I usually don't even..." I walk away, not wanting to say it or see his face if I did.
"You don't what? Finish?"
"No," I say, keeping my back to him. "Only when I'm with myself."
"Wait a minute." He comes over to me. "Are you telling me your boyfriend never got you off? Not even once?"
I sigh. "No."
"Did he know this or did you fake it?"
"I faked it at first but then I stopped, hoping he'd notice I wasn't finishing."
"And did he?"
I shake my head. "Honestly, I don't think he cared. But to be fair, most guys don't."
"Actually, they do. Most guys like knowing they made the girl come. They'll do anything she wants to make it happen. And they'll make sure she goes first."
"Yeah, I don't think it works that way." I go to the couch and sit down. "My friends had the same experience I did. None of our boyfriends cared if we got off or not. It was all about them."
"Let me guess...their boyfriends are all rich assholes who go to your old school."
"Yeah, or one of the other prep schools. But why does that matter?"
He sits beside me. "Rich guys are selfish. They only care about what makesthemfeel good, not anyone else. Their needs come first, and always will."
He just described Chad, and all of his friends. I assumed all guys his age were like that but maybe they're not. Dean's not, but I'm angry he assumed I was using him for sex. That's something I never thought I'd be accused of.
I turn to him. "About what you said...do you really think that? That I've been spending time with you just so I could sleep with you?"
"No," he says with a sigh. "I shouldn't have said it. I only did because that's usually why girls want to go out with me. They all want to sleep with the star football player. I didn't know why else you'd want to be with me."
I reach over and slide my hand around his. "Because I like you. I like spending time with you. I can't exactly say why." I pause, smiling at him. "I just do. I look forward to seeing you at school, even when you're mean to me." I raise my eyes to his. "I don't know why you act that way, but I don't think you want to. I don't think that person is really you."
"It is, which is why we shouldn't be friends. You don't know me, Brook. You don't know what I'm like."
"But I do. I've spent enough time with you this past week to know you're not the guy who yelled at me on the first day of school. That was just an attempt to scare me away."
"Didn't work," he mutters.
