“Look,” I try again. “I like control. It keeps down my demons. But around you … all my control just -” I move closer to her “disintegrates.” I look down at her face. “I just lose it.”
“No one can control every aspect of their life,” she hisses. “That’s just impossible.”
“I know that. But I tried. Made a hell of an effort too.” Since I can not control who dies, I can at least try to stay in control of my body and feelings. “Because I followed my rules.”
“Why?” She scowls. “Because of your demons?” Blue eyes wide and bright, filled with sudden, chilling insight.
“So that’s why you need to go on the ride? Not because you have second thoughts about us?” I guess she recognizes me now for what I am. Does she think I’m broken? A monster?
“No second thoughts. I don’t know how to explain this to you, so let’s just say that I don’t know how to cope with all these feelings inside ’cause it feels as if I’m going to explode.”
“So I’m bad for you?” Her eyes fill with tears and she gives a little sob. Fuck. Please don’t let me fuck this up right now.
“No, angel, you’re my light. You’re the one that pulls me back, every fucking time. Mel, remember the day at the haunted house … ” She nods lightly.
“Well, that day was the 1st of March, my …”
“Honey, we’re home!” Enrique shouts entering the kitchen carrying brown paper bags filled with food. The rest of the gang follows in a row behind.
“You’ve made the front page again,” Kiara gives me a pitying look and shoves a newspaper into my hands. Ava and Lucinda push past me and follow her inside to grab Mel into their arms with a shrill scream and some bouncing. Girls. They act as if they haven’t seen each other for years, instead of just one night.
I look at the paper and a photo of me and Mel kissing on the red carpet is splashed onto the front page.
‘The girl that pulls top biker’s throttle Reaper gears it up to 3rd base’
And in the picture just next to that, I’m beating up Ren –
‘Bad boy not only breaks records but also noses’
Wow, who comes up with these lame headers? Looking up I find everybody’s teasing eyes watching my every move.
“So, third base, eh?” Ilkay asks. I drop the paper on the counter before Mel and feel an uncomfortable blush spreading over my face. Shit, it’s not the first time I had sex, so why do I feel as embarrassed as a teenager getting caught in his first wet dream?
“What’s third base?” Mel asks innocently and I nearly roll my eyes. Don’t worry honey, we’ve gone from first, passed third all the way home in one single night.
“Touching below the belt … so oral sex basically,” Enrique answers.
“Oh,” Mel says in a very distinguished hangdog way.
“No,” Jackson gravely scolds, “No way. Fuck.” He knows. I swallow hard. He glares at me and I shrug. What else can I do?
Mel turns fire-station red – a dead giveaway – and suddenly the room’s whole demeanor changes – to intense upset. They look at me as if they want some kind of explanation, preferably a denial. But there’s no denying what I did to their little sister last night – and again this morning.
“Huh, eh … guys, do you really think your sister’s sex life is something you want to know about?” They frown and then pull sour faces, shaking their heads.
“Nope.” Jackson looks like he’s going to barf, but his eyes are killing me softly. I swallow some spit and try to pull an innocent face, holding up my hands protectively, but they circle me in, moving closer and closer. Here we go again.
“You guys must have known that some time or the other us dating would lead to … eh … that. At least she’s still here, in my house, and I didn’t run away … if that helps.” I’m trying to avoid conflict here.
“Hey,” Mel shouts stopping them in their tracks. “We made love and it was epic. The end.” They pout. “Unless you want to hear all about my orgasms in detail -” She’s putting them in place.
“Nope. We’re good.” Ilkay rags, “Right boys.” The twins shake their heads.
“All good.”
Mel plasters on a winning smile. Just like the one earlier this morning when she slipped onto my cock. Little naughty girl. And she’s all mine.
Date = 23 November
Place = San Francisco (Damion’s house)
POV – Damion
“Listen, dude, I’m really sorry for giving you that pill,” Logan apologizes. Finally, he’s come around. I knew he would given time.
“It’s not your fault. No one knew I was allergic.” I pat him on the back and help him to lift the cooler. “Not even me.”
“And you should know that even though you dating my sister is creepy,” he continues while pulling an I-smell-shit face, “I much rather have you as a brother-in-law than anyone else.”
“If that makes any sense,” he scuffs.
“Thanks.” What else can I say?
“Hi, Sorella! (Italian = sister)” Alejandro strides into the kitchen, grabs Mel from behind, and swings her through the air.
“Eeehh,” she screams just before she throws her arms around his neck and whispers something in his ear. His icy eyes find me over her shoulder, guarded, appraising me.
Mel whispers some more before she lets him go and he gets this big mischievous smile on his face, lighting up his eyes.
I hate their familiarity with each other. It leaves a bitter distaste in my mouth.
And I truly want to rip the cocky expression from his handsome smug face, but I settle on a tight fuck-of smile while only killing him in my mind.
I can’t get a grip on this guy – my gut says he’s not a bad dude … however, my instinct tells me he’s hiding something. I don’t like him. But my girlfriend for sure seems smitten with him.
Who invited him anyway?
I close my eyes and rub my forehead with my fist, counting slowly to ten. Fuck it.