18

18

KADE

FLASHBACK 3

I haven’t seen Stacey in three days, and I’m debating asking my sister for her number.

It would be way easier if I had it. Or… she’d ignore me and say it was a mistake and that I forced her to kiss me.

Wait. Did I force her? Technically, I barricaded her against the kitchen counter and dared her to kiss me again. Oh shit. That’s not good. Maybe I should apologise? Would she even hear me out?

Dad told me a few nights ago to chill out, because I kept thinking I imagined the kiss. He told me to take a deep breath and name three things I could see, two things I could touch and one thing I could smell. It worked. My lungs filled again, and my blurry vision lessened.

Then he told me to get out of my head and speak to her.

Safe to say I’m still in my head.

Nicotine infiltrates my lungs as I watch the water of the loch rippling, the small boat rocking side to side against the wooden pier, the soft glow from the lights illuminating the outdoor pool.

I still find it ridiculous that we live in Scotland – where it rains almost every day and we get a week of summer a year, if we’re lucky – and have an outdoor pool. I’ve been in it four times, and each one resulted in shrivelled balls and left me close to catching fucking pneumonia.

Luciella and her friends are in it a lot. Not that I intentionally stand exactly where I am now and stare at a certain black-haired beauty for hours on end. Base sat with me once, and I was in my head again, thinking he was looking at her too.

Regardless, he can’t have Stacey. I’ve claimed her and no one else can have her but me.

Kind of. I think. Probably not, but I’d like to.

Wait. How does one claim a person?

If I spoke these thoughts aloud, she’d flee the country and I’d be locked up with Dad. And I can’t have that, because I need to kiss her again. Or speak to her. Or have her attention for longer than one minute while my virgin hands shake.

The hard-on I keep getting every time I think back to that moment in the kitchen is becoming a biological hazard.

I pull out my phone and see Luciella has posted a picture of our main sitting area with the TV, captioned movie night with Stacey, my mum and Ewan.

The cigarette nearly drops from between my fingers.

She’s down there.

Knowing she’s down there has me quickly showering, brushing my teeth and shoving on a pair of boxers and sweats. I don’t bother putting on a top – the manor is roasting.

Before I can leave my room, I halt in my steps, blow out a breath and run my hands through my hair before pulling my phone out.

I open my messages with Jason.

Me: She’s here. What should I do?

Jason: Giana said to be cool and pretend nothing happened.

I frown. That sounds like the worst advice ever.

Me: Why?

Jason: Who the fuck knows. She winked when I asked. Just chill and don’t stab her like your dad did to Aria.

Rolling my eyes, I chew my lip to suppress a laugh while firing back a response.

Me: He didn’t stab her; his friend did, dick. One day, when my dad comes for you and your dad, I’ll stand back and watch.

Jason: Haha! Now fuck off and don’t embarrass yourself. Good luck. You need it with those looks.

Asshole.

I stuff the phone into my pocket, spray on some aftershave and head downstairs. I try not to look at Stacey; she’s sitting on the sofa in a little red dress and fluffy bed socks.

“You’re coming this time, right?” Luciella asks her.

“Can’t.”

“Why?”

She shrugs. “I just can’t.”

I sit on the one-seater between the two main sofas, one of which is taken up by my sister and Stacey, the other by Ewan and my mum.

Pausing the TV, Mum asks, “What are we watching?”

“Is The Greatest Showman there?” I ask.

Luciella groans. “We’ve watched that, like, a thousand times!”

I huff. “It’s a good movie.”

“What’s it about?” Stacey asks, and every drop of blood in my body turns to ice when she looks directly at me.

“Some money-hungry dude and a musical,” my sister thankfully answers. “He cheats on his wife and still gets a happy ending. Bullshit.”

Mum’s mouth drops open. “Language!”

I snort and shake my head. “It’s a good movie.”

My sister lifts the remote. “I’m in the mood for a horror.”

The lights dim, and the movie starts, but all I keep thinking is that I should’ve beaten my sister to answer Stacey.

I would have given a better fucking description. Nevertheless, I’m intrigued enough to stay down here instead of escaping to my room.

The movie has been on for at least an hour, and I haven’t paid any attention to it.

Luciella keeps screaming and jumping out of her skin; Ewan looks like he’s ready to fall asleep.

A chill wracks my body, but I can’t be fucked going to get a top. I grab a blanket from the basket near the sofa instead.

“Kade, sweetheart, can you share that with Stacey?” my mum asks. “She looks cold.”

There’s a space beside her, Luciella on her other side, but I’d rather stick pins in my eyes than take it.

Kissing her is fine. Sharing a blanket sounds like a fucking nightmare. I’m nervous about being in her vicinity as it is. I’ll have an arterial rupture if I get any closer.

I get up from my comfortable seat and sit beside her, offering her half of the blanket.

It only takes my family ten minutes to decide they need to leave the room. Ewan and Mum for food, and Luciella to talk to our dad on the phone.

Leaving me with Stacey. Alone. Sharing a damn blanket.

Shoot me.

“This movie is terrible,” Stacey says, crossing her arms. “I don’t know how people enjoy being terrified every two seconds.”

I gulp. “Yeah.”

“I’d rather watch the film you mentioned – The Great Man?”

Smirking, I rest my elbow on the arm of the couch. “The Greatest Showman,” I correct. “You were close.”

She chews her lip, and my eyes drop to her mouth. “Do you think they’ll notice if we change it to that?”

“Luciella would notice if we fast-forwarded it by five seconds.”

“Hmm. True.”

Our eyes clash, and the insatiable desire to wrap my hand around her ponytail and yank her to me increases with each passing moment. I could look at her forever – the different shades of light green looking back at me; the way her pupils dilate as I absently reach my hand forward, twirling a dark strand around my finger.

“Why did you let me kiss you?” I ask, remembering her mouth on mine in the kitchen a few days ago. “I teased you for years. You should have slapped me.”

Stacey blushes. “I, um, I wanted to.”

The hair springs free from around my finger. “Slap me?”

Fidgeting with the edge of the blanket, Stacey sighs. Her tone is like a caress on my cheek. “Are you playing a game here? Make the girl want you only to toss her to the ground so you can get praised?”

“How can I get praised if no one knows I kissed you again?”

“You know what I mean.”

I hum. “Can’t say I do.”

The door handle jiggles. I twist my body to look behind the couch to the door as Mum pops in to say she’s making pizza. I nod, running my hand through my hair as the door closes again. The movement causes the blanket to shift.

No, it’s not the movement. It’s Stacey knocking it away to climb on top of me, settling on my lap with her thighs bracketing my hips. “If you meant it, then…” She grabs my face to look at her, at the neediness in her forest-green eyes. “Kiss me again.”

Frozen. Completely and utterly frozen, all I can do is gulp down the building lump in my throat that’s threatening to suffocate me.

I want to kiss her. Fuck, do I want to. But being caught off guard makes me uneasy. I have no time to think it through or plan how to touch her or what to say. I always want to be in control, so having her like this has knocked me off my axis.

Having her touching me without preparing myself has my blood roaring in my ears.

My heart races to an unbearable pace, my hands fisting at my sides. I want to snatch her hips and pull her closer. I want to taste her mouth and hear her whimper. I want to feel her body all over me.

But something is stopping me from moving.

Sensing my anxiety from the sudden change in the atmosphere, Stacey’s brows furrow before realisation hits, and she rises to her knees above me.

I’m staring at her like she has two heads while mine takes far too long to process our position. A beautiful girl is straddling me and all I can do is sit here like a wide-eyed statue.

Why the fuck do I need to be so weird? Why can’t I be normal and not panic and freeze and fuck this all up?

She lets go of my face, and some of the bad friction alleviates from my chest.

“I… Oh God. I’m such an idiot.”

Her face is red as a strawberry as she tries to get off me. Embarrassed. My hands move without me thinking, and I grab her hips and bring her back to sit in my lap.

“Don’t.” One word, my voice thick and pleading. “Don’t.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Be patient with me,” is all I say before I capture her lips with mine.

Our mouths melt together, and most of my worries fade away as she drapes her arms around my shoulders and kisses me back. It’s a little overwhelming, but I can handle it.

I slip my tongue past her lips, and she opens for me just as a groan leaves my throat. Taking from me what she wants, Stacey slants her head to deepen the kiss, until my fingers are digging into the material at her waist. The visceral need to touch her naked skin is unbearable. I want to tear her fucking dress off and lick and bite every inch of her.

It’s a ridiculous urge, considering my experience is sitting at a solid zero and I’d probably get stage fright.

She takes my bottom lip between her teeth, and I hiss. She sucks on it, licks, and then forces my head to the side to trail her wet mouth down my throat.

My cock hardens until it’s painful, and my sweats do nothing to conceal it.

Nearly settled between her legs, my dick begs to be released from its restraints, but that’ll only scare her off. Like me, she hadn’t kissed anyone before, so I imagine her virginity status is the same as mine.

My teeth clench as she devours my neck, her hands travelling down my naked chest and back up to curl around my shoulders. I can tell she’s tracing the ink down my left arm, and it causes shivers to course through me. Testing where she can touch without me tensing, she explores me while her mouth moves over mine.

She takes my hands, pulling them off her waist. I frown, and slowly, she places my palms just above her naked knees. “Is this okay?” she asks me, dragging them up and up, slipping under the material of her dress. “Or is it too much?”

I almost smile. She gets me, understands why I need to go slow. “Yeah.”

“Tell me if it gets too much, okay?”

A deep sound vibrates in my chest, and I nudge her nose with mine and peck her lips.

And then she’s kissing me again while I massage my way up to her hips then trace the fabric of her underwear. Lace. Probably white and innocent.

My breath hitches as she lets out a whimper from my touch, and she delves her tongue into my mouth while fisting both hands in my hair. She tugs, and I tighten my hold on her hips, dying to drag her forward to grind against me.

Too soon. Far too soon.

“I took your number from Lu’s phone,” she says into my mouth, drawing my tongue between her lips and sucking hard. “If I message you, will you respond?”

I grin, my hands moving of their own accord to grab her ass. Which is belting, by the way. All those dances and aerial sports she does definitely pay off.

If I bring her forward a little more, she’ll feel my dick and how solid it is for her, and I’m not sure either of us is ready for that.

“I guess you’ll need to find out for yourself.” She whimpers as I nibble her jaw. “Sneaky little Freckles, stealing my number from her best friend’s phone.”

She giggles, and I feel every muscle in my body go warm and taut with how fucking much I want to hear her giggle again.

I flip us, and I settle on top, one hand next to her head, holding myself up. My mouth is on hers once more, our tongues sliding together as my hand goes from her hip to her hair then back to her hip, tasting and licking and biting until we’re breathless.

She parts her legs, and my annoying nerves start to kick in again.

I’m solid. My dick hurts. My balls are tight, and our kisses are growing more demanding, more intimate as her ankles hook behind my legs, digging her nails into my back to bring me closer.

Anyone could walk in right now and see me on top of Stacey.

Regardless of this, of the heaviness on my chest that only worsens by the second, I bunch her dress at her hip and dip my hand under her arched back to get a good grip on her ass.

Absentmindedly, as my tongue tastes hers, my hips rock, and the length of my cock grinds between her legs at the same time as I drag her against me. As much as I have to fight the urge to grit my teeth with the tingling sensation at the head of my dick and in my balls, my mind catches up with me, and I freeze.

My mouth pulls away first, then my hands leave her body, shock rushing through me.

With widening eyes, I stare at her. At the blush on her face. “Sorry,” I force out, my heart fucking pounding in my chest, before I move away from her.

“Sorry,” I say again, swallowing deeply and moving back into my original position while she slowly sits and wipes her mouth. “That’s not what I was trying to—” I stop as the door opens, the blanket already thrown over us.

Ewan walks in first with pizza, and thank God I pulled away in time, or he would’ve got a full view of me pinning Luciella’s best friend to the sofa and dry-humping her. Mum comes in next with two bowls of food, Luciella trailing behind with a tray of drinks.

I glance at Stacey. She’s chewing her thumbnail, her eyes trained on the paused screen, a blush still creeping up from her neck to her cheeks.

We both control our breathing as Luciella tells me Dad is calling me tomorrow, and that she’s forgotten what was even happening in the movie. It restarts to reveal the girl is screaming for her life.

I can taste Stacey on my lips, raw from her biting and sucking them. The heat that radiates between us is still there, and it only amplifies when my fingers touch hers, and she takes my hand under the blanket.

In any other circumstance, I’d pull away from that sort of physical touch and picture the person in a million pieces. I’d get pains in my hands. But with Stacey, I return the sentiment by lacing our fingers.

Me. Kade Mitchell, at the age of eighteen, holds hands with a girl for the first time.

And I like it.

When the movie ends, and we need to let go, I head to my bed, finding a message from an unknown number.

Unknown: I know you weren’t trying to… you know. We both got carried away. It’s okay. Don’t overthink it.

Unknown: And I want to watch the Great Man movie with you.

I chuckle, save her number and type a reply.

Me: Not if you keep getting the title wrong. There’s only so much disrespect I’ll put up with for that masterpiece.

Freckles: The Greatest Showman! But yeah, I want to watch it with you. You can say no. I don’t want you to feel like you HAVE to.

Me: Do I really have a choice?

Freckles: Of course not. I’m staying here on Wednesday after practice. Will you be home?

No girl has ever been in my room, unless I count my mum when she shouts at me. Dez, Base, Jason and Ewan, but no one else. I like having my own space, but something about having Stacey here feels… I don’t know.

Me: Come to my room when Luciella falls asleep. If you get the title wrong once more, I’ll kick you out and tell my sister her friend is a shit kisser.

Freckles: YOU WILL NOT!

Me: See you on Wednesday, Freckles.