Well, I’m sick and tired of remaining stagnant. Life isn’t going to just pass me by. I’m gonna grab it by the balls every chance I get.
And if that means grabbing Cannon’s balls tonight, then so be it. I’m up for the challenge.
Though truthfully? I’m guessing Cannon won’t be a challenge at all.
“Go find Dustin,” I say, my voice loud enough for everyone standing around to hear me. “I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to keep you company tonight.”
The hurt look on her face says it all. I’m the total bitch best friend.
May as well own it.
Without a word she turns on her heel and heads the other way. I watch her go, tempted to run after her but I remain where I stand.
Cannon whistles low as he leads me out to the backyard, my arm still curled through his. “You’re cutthroat,” he says, almost admiringly.
I shrug, smiling up at him. “Don’t worry about her. She understands.”
He smiles in return. “You got a swimsuit on underneath your clothes?”
My smile turns coy. “Maybe.”
“Might have to strip you naked before you get in that hot tub, huh? Is that what you’re telling me?” he asks, his voice hopeful.
In his dreams. I don’t answer him.
A little mystery never hurt anyone.
*
Peeps! Make sure you vote and let me know what you think of Emily’s chapter! Ah, she’s not the best friend to have around, is she? #nope
Next chapter is coming this Thursday! Wheee! xo
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Chapter 5 - Cannon
This girl is ready for action and I’m ready to give it. I’ve heard the stories about Emily, especially these last few months. She likes to party. Get her wasted and she falls to her knees in an instant. Though I’m not looking for that-don’t laugh. It’s true. I won’t turn down a blowjob or a hand job or whatever, but what I’ve really been looking for lately is…
A connection.
Sounds sappy. All my friends would tell me I’ve lost my balls and become a complete pussy, but whatever. What the hell do they know about relationships? Nothing, that’s what. And I’m not necessarily seeking a relationship-I’d probably freak out if I found myself in one-but I am looking for something more than a casual hook up at a party.
I want someone I can literally Netflix and chill with. I want someone who’ll come watch me play ball and wear my jersey. Yell my name as loud as she can from the stands when I go running by, and who’ll congratulate me for a spectacular win with a big, fat kiss. Someone I can make out with whenever I want.
Yeah. Perfect. I want that.
“Cannon.” Em draws my name out, all the n’s slurring together. Girl’s been drinking a lot more than I thought. Probably stoned too. “Watch me.”
I do, crossing my arms in front of my chest as she awkwardly strips out of her clothes, revealing that yep, she’s wearing a red bikini. But it’s tiny, the triangle top barely covering her tits, and the bottoms are so small I’m guessing she waxes pretty much everything.
“Tricked ya,” she says as she saunters toward me, her hips swaying. A few guys that are nearby cheer her on and she beams, clearly loving the attention.
This girl is a wreck.
I bet I could rescue her.
“How’d you trick me?” I ask when she stops directly in front of me, her hands going to my chest. They funnel beneath my T-shirt, touching my bare skin and I shiver at her aggressive touch.
“You hoped I’d have to skinny dip.” She cocks her hip, resting her hand there. “Look at me in my bikini.”
“You could still skinny dip. If you want.” I smile when she laughs, enjoying the sound. I shouldn’t encourage her. She’d probably whip those little scraps of fabric off so fast my head would spin.
“Nah. A girl’s gotta have some mystery.” She pushes away from me and heads for the hot tub. My gaze locks on her butt, appreciating the way her cheeks are on display, the sexy sway of her hips.
Girl’s got a tight ass, I’ll give her that.
“Well, I hate to disappoint you,” I say as I follow after her. “But I’m not wearing swim trunks. Didn’t bring any either.”
Em twirls around, her mouth dropping open in shock. “Cannon.”
“What?” I ask innocently, enjoying the way her gaze roves over me, like she’s trying to take me all in.
And there’s a lot to take in. I’m not a small guy. She’s not a big girl. I’d probably smash her if we did it missionary style. We’d probably work out better if she were on top.
Just like that, my head is filled with all sorts of images, the majority of them featuring Em bouncing on top of me with her tits in my face.
Damn. I need to calm down before I pop a tent in my pants.
“Are you going to skinny dip?” Her brows go up.
“Naw. I got underwear on.”
“So I’ll get to check you out in your Calvins?”
My cheeks go warm. “How’d you know I was wearing Calvin Klein underwear?” I’m freaking embarrassed, which is the stupidest thing ever. I’m trying to impress this girl and act like a sex god, but I’m getting tripped up over the underwear mention.
“I saw them when you grabbed me a beer.” She makes a cute little face. “Another beer sounds good right about now.”
“No.” I shake my head. “No more beer for you.” I mean it. I don’t like sloppy drunks. And I definitely don’t take advantage of drunk girls. That’s not cool. “Now turn around.”
“What? You’re not going to let me watch you strip?” She looks extremely disappointed, which works wonders for my ego.
“Nope. A guy’s got to have a little mystery.” I throw her words back in her face and she laughs again. I really like it when she laughs. It lights up her whole face and she doesn’t look so…troubled.
Why do I have such a soft spot for the troubled girl? I always have. They’re a weakness of mine. I’m a rescuer. Maybe because my mom has needed to be rescued ever since I was a little kid with her constant bad choices. Made me want to take care of her in any way I could.
But I never got the chance. She’d always let some other asshole take care of her-and they rarely did a good job. So I watched over my little sister, making sure she did her homework, that she was fed, that she went to bed at a decent hour. Though lately she’s avoiding me, barely looking me in the eye when we talk. I think it’s because she’s up to no good.
Swear to God, none of the females in my life can stay on the straight and narrow.
“I’m waiting,” Em says, her voice high and light and I hurriedly strip, until I’m left in nothing but my boxer briefs. She turns to face me right when I kick off my shorts, her gaze dropping low.
I get the weird feeling that she’s totally checking out my package.
“Let’s go.” She comes toward me, takes my hand and leads me to the hot tub, which luckily enough is completely empty.
The moment we sink into the hot, bubbling water a sigh eases out of me and I lean back, my head on the edge of the tub’s ledge. “Feels good,” I murmur.
She snuggles close to my side, her fingers skimming my stomach beneath the water. “Yeah, you do.”
We’re in warm, bubbly water, skin on skin, not much between us. This is a moment I should take advantage of. I know she won’t protest. Hell, she wants it. Wants me. She’s made that abundantly clear.
“Cannon.” She tilts her head back when I look down at her, her lips parting invitingly. “Kiss me.”
I frown. The move, the line, the way she looks, it all feels so practiced. She’s done this before. Multiple times. Usually I wouldn’t give a crap. I’d take h
er up on her invitation and get down to business.
So why am I acting this way now? With this particular girl?
I don’t get it.
Leaning down, I drop a kiss on her forehead, which earns me a frown for my efforts. “That’s all I get?” she asks, sounding pouty.
“You’re drunk.” I touch her cheek. Her skin is soft and smooth and her lids lower over her eyes, like she enjoys my fingers on her skin. “Maybe a little high too.”
“So?” She sounds irritated and I kiss her softly on the lips, nothing too pushy or over the top. But let me tell you, I feel that kiss right down to my bones.
“I don’t take advantage of drunk girls,” I whisper, hoping she realizes I’m a good guy. Despite my reputation, despite the public persona I put on for everyone to see, I can’t take advantage of this girl. I’ve known her way too long, watched her slowly spiral out of control.
I won’t contribute to her downfall.
“That’s a shame,” she murmurs, leaning into me so close, her head rests on my shoulder. “I would’ve totally let you take advantage of me tonight.”
I say nothing. Just slip my arm around her slender shoulders and keep her close. One of the guys from the team pauses by the edge of the hot tub, his eyes gleaming as he makes a dirty hand gesture then points at Em. I glare at him until he looks down and walks away.
Jerk. I know what they think about her. I know she’s the one who made them think that way, considering she created her own reputation. I should leave her alone. She’s trouble.
But I like how she fits next to me. I like the smell of her hair, her soft skin, her smokin’ hot body. And she’s nice. Before everything seemed to fall apart, she was really nice and friendly and fun to hang out with.
Maybe we could be something. Or maybe we won’t amount to anything. But I do know one thing.
I’m watching out for her tonight. She needs a knight in shining armor.
And I’m going to take that role on-whether she likes it or not.
*
Peeps! I forgot how much I love Cannon. He’s so sweet, which was a total surprise to me considering when I first created him, he was sort of a dog. ;) And you’ll see him again in my book JUST FRIENDS, coming September 13th!
Wait until you read the next chapter…I think it’s my favorite one so far! *squee* Don’t forget to vote/comment/tell your friends about ONE NIGHT! xoxo
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Chapter 6 - Amanda
I can’t believe it. I’m walking into Jordan Tuttle’s house like I belong here, like I own the freaking place-ahem, palace. His house is a giant mansion, like something out of a movie, but I don’t let myself get distracted by all the beauty surrounding me. Instead, I hold my head high, my gaze searching the room in the hopes I’ll spot Thad before he sees me. I’m so excited I can barely stand it. The living room is jam packed with so many people, the music thumping so loud I can’t hear anything. And the song is awful.
I’ve never been a big fan of rap. I’m more the female power type of music lover. Katy Perry. Arianna Grande. Oooh, Sia is a new favorite. Even freaking Lady Gaga.
Okay fine, boys would roll their eyes at me if they knew my musical tastes. Well, Thad wouldn’t. But that’s because he’s sort of the perfect boyfriend. I can’t quite call him the perfect boyfriend because first, he’s younger than me by a year. And that lowers my street cred, if I even have any.
I probably have zero street cred. Whatever.
Second, he’s a band geek. Like me. But that’s okay, right? We’re both in band, so we spend a lot of time together. It was meant to be! That’s what my best friend says. And Tara should know, since she’s in band too. We’ve been best friends since sixth grade, when she and I sat in the clarinet section together. She knows all of my secrets, just like I know hers.
Thad plays sax. He flirted with me right after winter break-rather badly-and somehow I picked up on the signals. Tara did too. I think she was jealous. I was the first one of us to have a real boyfriend, and I know she’s had various crushes throughout our high school years, but nothing has come from them.
Yet. I still have high hopes for my friend. She’s pretty and smart and fun to hang out with. Sort of moody sometimes, but aren’t we all? She deserves a good guy, a great boyfriend. That way we could all double date together, and that’s my ultimate dream.
I tried to convince her to come with me to Jordan Tuttle’s party tonight, but she said she didn’t want to feel like a third wheel. Like we’d ever exclude her. She’s my bestie for life. I’d never wrong her.
Ever.
Besides, this place is crawling with hot guys. She could’ve had her choice of boys tonight, not that I’m paying attention to any of them. I’m on the hunt for Thad.
Where is he?
I’m kind of boggled by the fact that he wanted to meet here tonight. How he scored an invite to this party, I’m not sure, but once the word hits social media, it’s a free for all. Tuttle’s parties are always that way.
Not that I’ve ever been to one before, so I don’t have any personal experience. He invited me once. A few months ago, in our honors English class we had together. Someone was asking about another one of his parties and he looked right at me with those piercing blue eyes of his and said, “You should come.”
My mind drew a blank because hello, Tuttle said something to me. He has before-many times, really because we tend to have classes together every year. But he’s untouchable, especially to someone like me. So untouchable, I glanced behind me, thinking he was talking to someone else.
But no. He was talking to me.
“Amanda. That’s your name, right?” he asked pointedly, that intense gaze of his pinning me in place. Reminding me that he’s some sort of god while I’m just…me. A nobody.
I nodded, my tongue tied in a Tuttle-induced knot. I swear I heard a few girls verbally swoon when he said my name, because-and we all knew this-he rarely said a girl’s name out loud. It was a rare occurrence.
Did this make me special?
Probably not.
“I’ve never seen you at one of my parties,” he continued conversationally, leaning back in his chair, his gaze never leaving mine. He was unnaturally good looking. Like, his face is a work of art-it belongs in a museum, he’s so perfectly formed. Crazy, right? I know, I know, but trust me. He’s that gorgeous. “Why?”
“Um…” I shrugged. “I never thought I was invited?”
“Well, you definitely are.” His lips tilted upward, subtle but there. A…smile? “I’ve just personally invited you to my party this Friday. I want to see you there.”
It was like a royal decree, one that excited me beyond anything had in a long time. But the very next day, Thad asked me out on a date for the first time, and we went to the movies that Friday night instead.
I figured Tuttle was just messing with me anyway. Thad’s more my speed. Normal. Cute. Average. With a silly sense of humor and thankfully, not intense whatsoever.
“Amanda! Hey!” I turn to see Natalie Whipple standing in front of me, her eyes so wide I thought they were going to bug out of her head. “What are you doing here?”
Natalie is in band with us. She plays the flute and she’s terrible at it, but no one’s left behind in our high school band. Like…no one. “Hey, Nat.” I wave, then drop my hand when she continues to stare at me like I’m the weirdest thing she’s ever seen. “Have you seen Thad around?”
“Thad?” She giggles, resting her hand over her mouth to stifle the sound. “Um, yeah?”
Why is she talking in questions? “Okay. Where is he?”
“Upstairs?” Another giggle slips before Nat tries her best to manage a straight
face. “In one of the bedrooms?”
My heart starts to hammer against my ribs. He’d told me the last time we were together he wanted to take things further. We’d been making out in the backseat of his car, and he’d been sort of all over the place. He’s a decent kisser, though maybe a little sloppy. Too much tongue, I think. And he’s handsy as hell, which in the right situation I think I’d like, but most of the time, it feels like I’m making out with an octopus when I kiss Thad.
Oh, that was mean. He’s my boyfriend. I shouldn’t critique his skills. More like I should help him along. I’m totally inexperienced too, so we can teach each other, you know?
“Thanks,” I tell Nat before I walk away, headed toward the staircase.
Where I happen to see Tuttle standing at the top, gazing down at me with…an unidentifiable emotion gleaming in his eyes.
I start up the stairs, gripping the bannister with shaky fingers, unable to tear my gaze away from Tuttle’s. He watches me, his expression blank, like he could care less if it’s me that’s coming toward him, and that’s fine. Really. I should mean nothing to him.
He means nothing to me. I’m in search of Thad, not Tuttle.
“You finally made it,” he says when I reach the top of the stairs.
“Up the stairs?” I ask confusedly. I come to a stop directly in front of him and I swear to God, he radiates heat. I can feel him drawing me in and I’m tempted to take a step backwards.
But then I might fall down the stairs and that would really suck.
Tuttle cracks the faintest smile. “To my party.”
“Oh.” Right. His invite from long ago. “So hey. Have you seen my boyfriend?”
The scowl that suddenly appears on his gorgeous face surprises me. “You have a boyfriend?”
Okay. That was mean. Why does he sound so shocked? The jerk. “I do,” I say as I tilt my nose up into the air. Do I look snooty? I hope I do. Tuttle is a total jackass. “He’s average height, skinny. Brown hair, brown eyes. Have you seen him?”
Ugh. I made Thad sound so boring, and he’s really not. I’m the worst girlfriend ever.