All I can do is shrug. “Not sure what you mean, Sav.”
“I mean—”
Liam comes in the room. “Sav,” he greets her. He eyes me.
I don’t back down. I haven’t had a true interaction with him, and I’m desperate to make a strong impression on someone.
“Good game, Liam,” Savannah says. “That pass at the end? Brilliant.”
I roll my eyes. I’m surprised their coach let him play after he and Caleb fought. He has a bruise on his cheekbone that looks like smudged dirt.
“You miss it, Margo?” he asks.
Savannah sniffs. “She wouldn’t go to a game.”
I shift my weight. “Well, I was supposed to meet Riley there, but…” My gaze goes past Liam to Caleb. Do I want to admit that Caleb and I had a weird moment at the park instead of going to the game? Not in front of Savannah, that’s for damn sure.
“See? Lame,” she says to Liam. “I’m surprised Applebottom showed her face with Eli.”
Liam shrugs. “I’ve got no part of that, Sav. And I’m not much for gossip. Excuse us.” He takes my arm and steers me away, deeper into the house.
“What are you doing?”
“Talking to you.”
I point at the bruise. “Is that from Caleb?”
He grunts, finding an empty room and gesturing for me to enter. He closes us in and leans against the door. “So. Margo.”
“Liam.”
He rolls his eyes. “What’s up with you and Caleb? Guy’s been acting cagey since you showed up. No offense, but do we have to worry about him being off his game?”
“His game, as in…”
“Lacrosse,” he snaps. “Special practice starts in a month. He’s the captain. If you’re fucking him—”
“He started it,” I interrupt, willing my face to not turn red. “I’m not really sure why you’re talking to me. I try to stay away from him.” Without success, I don’t add. Sometimes I feel like Caleb is attached to me by an invisible string.
I cross my arms. “Let’s just say, for example, Caleb saw you bring me in here. Should we test this theory?” I gesture for him to move away from the door and glance at my watch. “He’s going to—”
The door flies open. Caleb’s gaze swings between Liam and me, and all the space between us. His scowl deepens. “What the fuck?”
Liam shrugs. “I was just trying to talk—”
“You don’t go in a fucking closed room to talk,” Caleb snaps. “Come on, Margo.”
I stiffen.
His lip curls. “Be a good little sheep and come with me.”
When I don’t move fast enough, he stalks forward and bends down. I marvel at the softness of his hair as his head brushes my arm. And then his shoulder digs into my stomach, and his hands grip my thighs. He straightens and lifts me into the air. My hip digs into his shoulder.
I squeak. “Put me down!”
He smacks my ass. The sharp pain of it zips through me and my mouth gape open.
“You don’t really get to speak to me right now, love.”
I groan, raising my head to glare at Liam. Caleb carries me out of the room. “Where are you taking—”
He smacks my butt again, and I press my lips together. Liam laughs behind us, following Caleb down the hall and into the party.
Oh god. The party.
He walks through the crowd like it’s nothing. They part for him—they always do—but now there’s a silence that follows us. It’s eerie. He’s got me in a fireman’s carry, slung over his shoulders like a damsel in distress. His arm is hooked around the back of my knee, gripping my wrist.
My cheeks flame.
We pass the living room, and I catch Riley’s wide-eyed stare. Eli has a hold on her arm, but she doesn’t even notice. And then we’re outside, the cool air hitting my bare skin.
It would appear that I only have the courage to stand up to him in private, because my muscles unlock. I growl, “Put me down.”
He chuckles, and the sound goes straight through me. He leans forward, letting go, and I fall flat on my back in the grass. The hit is shocking. Cold dew seeps into my jeans and the back of my sweater, the grass pricking at my forearms.
He stands over me, seeming to contemplate something, and then offers his hand.
I blink at him.
“Just take it.” He sounds a thousand years old. Impossibly tired.
I do. My hand slides into his like they were made for each other. He pulls me to my feet and points to the car.
“Get in.”
“So freaking bossy,” I mutter, heading for the car. I’m ready for this night to be over. He’s probably tired from his mood swings—I know I am.
“You don’t touch him.” He’s right behind me. His arms slide around my waist, his fingers interlocking over my abdomen. He holds me flush to his back, and his breath hits my neck.
“I wasn’t going to.” Liar. Wasn’t that my plan? To use a boy against him? It would’ve been Liam. Hell, it would’ve been anyone who could stand up to Caleb for a fraction of a second.
His lips touch my ear, eliciting a shiver. “Don’t lie to me.”
“I wouldn’t.”
He bites my earlobe, hard enough that I jump, but his hands keep me in place. We’re just out of reach of the house lights. I let myself fall back on him as his hands explore, and I hate it. I hate that my heart remembers what my mind has tried to forget: that deep down, Caleb and I used to be friends.
He pinches my nipple, and I feel it in my core.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask.
I shouldn’t.
I know I shouldn’t.
This could end.
This could continue.
His fingers inch under my jeans. “Do you want me to stop?”
I can’t even say yes, because my breathing is loud and ragged.
“Are you turned on?”
He pauses, one hand edging under my panties. He hasn’t even really touched me, and I’m wet. I don’t have to be a virgin to know that he’s affecting me in strange ways.
“I’m going to find out one way or another, love,” he whispers. His lips tease the skin just behind my ear, his tongue flicking out and tasting me. “Last chance.”
“Caleb.”
His hand plunges down. I buck against him, but he shifts us so my chest is pressed to his car. He kicks my legs wider, assaulting my clit with a dangerous tempo. My heart races. We’re outside.
Just like every other time he’s done this to you.
“Oh my god, Caleb,” I groan. I roll it to the side when his lips find my neck, biting and sucking. I have to brace my hand on his car as something builds up inside me.
“You don’t fucking talk to him,” he growls, biting my shoulder. “You don’t fucking look at another guy, love, because you’re mine.”
His words, his teeth, his finger on my clit. It’s sensory overload. I’m building and building, racing toward an unknown cliff, and I’m putty in his hands. I couldn’t move—I’d do anything to make him stay.
“Okay.”
His teeth ease, his lips and tongue soothing the spot, and his finger slips inside me. I groan.