7. Callum

7

CALLUM

I endured a deluge of my aunt's texts on Monday, each one like the cut of a knife designed to kill me slowly.

Aunt Blair

Why the hell aren't you answering my texts?

Answer me right now, Callum.

I won't tolerate this behavior forever.

If you block me, I will come there myself to get what I want. Try me.

You ungrateful, selfish brat. Do not ignore me.

You owe me.

It was death by a thousand texts. I had ignored every one of them, but realized that couldn't last forever. Blocking her would only make it worse, I knew that from experience. Imagining her coming to my apartment and intruding on the safe haven I found away from her had me anxious as fuck. It momentarily had me regretting not fleeing to a college out of state just to be truly free of her, but UT was my dream. Mine and my mom's. I'd be damned if I let that bitch ruin it for me.

That thought triggered another one of Rhys and how he had nearly ruined it for me with a single phone call. Aunt Blair's incessant texts had my anger bubbling up, rerouting conveniently to my pet target. My shower exploits had confirmed my suspicions about what Rhys really wanted. He might have hated me for toying with him, but I would bet my life he hated himself more for wanting me. It's exactly where I needed him to be. His torment was delicious and I couldn't get enough. It was feeding the darker parts of me I'd buried long ago, parts born from pain and suffering. Now I had somewhere to direct that darkness.

I had given him a day to lick his wounds and let his anger toward me cool before texting him on Tuesday on my way to class.

Me

So how was your Monday, Sweetness?

I couldn't stop my lips from twitching when I saw the text was read almost instantly followed by the responding bubbles popping up and disappearing several times. Clearly Rhys was feeling some type of way after what happened between us, and it made me irrationally eager to see how he'd respond.

Rhys

Considering I wasn't casually violated by any psychopaths, I'd mark it as a win.

His sarcasm had me biting back a smile. I had expected nothing less of the sassy little Vitamin-D reject. Strangely enough, his pale skin in the shower had made his ass look silky smooth and biteable. I could almost imagine my bite mark fitting just right?—

Woah, where the actual fucking fuck did that come from? Get your shit together, Hawkins. Sweet mercy, I need to get laid if the twink is the one getting me horny now.

Me

Is it really a violation if you begged for it?

Rhys

Most people wait for an invitation before pawing at someone like an animal.

Me

Ah, but the invitation was all over your face. You had some lovely, violet “fuck me eyes” going on there.

Rhys

No no, those were “fuck off eyes”. Also I'm pretty sure my face was screaming “restraining order”.

Me

Oops! That looks like another dollar for the swear jar for you, Sweetness.

You should really do something about that dirty mouth of yours. I could always find something to fill it for you…

Rhys

You stick that anywhere near my mouth, my teeth will become your personal penis guillotine. Then you'd really owe that swear jar of yours.

I snorted out a laugh at his threat, and several heads turned my way. Rhys was so much fun to fuck with, and I had to admit I found him entertaining. It was exactly what I needed to get out of my head where the looming shadow of my aunt dwelled.

Me

Before you go all Marie Peen-toinette on my dick, just consider the possibility you might like it. Have you ever given a BJ?

Rhys

Let's file that discussion somewhere between “none of your business” and “not a chance in hell”.

Me

Don't be embarrassed, Evans. Being a virgin is nothing to be ashamed about.

Rhys

You're assuming a lot about me. You know what they say when you assume things…

Me

Something about your ass and me? It'd def take care of that virginity issue for you. But maybe we should take this slow, pumpkin. Don't wanna rush into things!

Rhys

I'd like you so much better as a missing person.

Me

Aha! So you do like me! Of course, your cum on my hand pretty much convinced me of that.

Rhys

And on that disgusting note, I've gotta go be literally anywhere else right now.

Smirking to myself over our snarky exchange, I finally reached my class and settled into my seat at the back. I put my phone away and tried to make a decent effort at concentrating for the next hour. That went over about as well as a nun in a strip club since Rhys kept forcing his way into my mind.

Teasing him about coming in my hand had the memories bleeding into my consciousness, which wouldn't have been a problem if my dick didn't try to join the party. I had done everything in my power in the locker room to ignore the dull throb in my boxers from hearing Rhys whine and beg for his release. I wasn't attracted to him and I definitely didn't want him, not in any way that mattered. The only thing that made sense was that I was a sick fucker who got off on terrorizing an orgasm out of him.

Sounds like a problem they'd turn into a damn Netflix special. An Inconvenient Boner: the Callum Hawkins story. They could get Zac Efron to grow out some curls to play me…it could work.

The professor droned on for nearly an hour while I halfheartedly took notes as infuriatingly tempting images of Rhys swirled through my head. I tried to concentrate and conjure a daydream of someone more curvy and female, but my traitorous sex-deprived brain kept going back to my latest encounter. Inconvenient indeed.

When class finally ended, my phone buzzed again and I felt the slightest stab of disappointment to see Griffin's name instead of Rhys'. I couldn't think too hard about that disturbing thought, otherwise I'd want to lobotomize myself.

Griffin

Dude, my stomach is going to implode. So fucking hungry. Lunch at Jester? My treat.

Me

Sure. Be there in 10.

I booked it over to Jester dining hall where Griffin was ready and waiting for me. The second I was within reach, he grabbed my arm and hauled me toward the line.

“Fucking finally! God, I need to eat. This guy with thunder thighs was walking in front of me and I swear, I saw his legs turn into chicken drumsticks. I was considering cannibalism for a hot minute there,” Griffin rambled as we grabbed our trays.

“Ah, the Armie Hammer approach. I guess that's one way to increase your protein intake,” I quipped. Griffin prattled on some more, but I couldn't focus on a thing he was saying. My mind was racing, hundreds of thoughts screaming over one another in a vain attempt at order. My aunt, Rhys, Coach, my scholarship, my captaincy, and my vengeful thoughts blurred into chaos. It was like trying to concentrate on a train that was racing full speed in front of your eyes with no end in sight.

“Hey, did you hear me?” Griffin barked, his mouth full of food as he stared at me quizzically. Damn, I hadn't even realized we'd made it to a table and sat down.

“Uh no. Sorry, Griff. Just zoned out. What's up?” I asked while digging into my own food.

“I asked if you've made any progress on your little narc yet?”

I let out a grunt of annoyance and refused to make eye contact. “Great, first Kenji and now you? I'm working on it. All good things come to those who wait,” I replied.

“Okay, but what does that mean then? Last I heard, you had been texting him for whatever fucking reason, and then…nothing. Are you or are you not getting that shit handled?” Griffin inquired.

“I've been rattling his cage a bit. Seeing what makes him squirm and what pushes his buttons. The best way to do that is to get to know him, so yeah I've been texting him. Call it lulling him into a false sense of security,” I admitted, smirking at the thought. “I've also screwed with him a couple of times, and that was pretty damn satisfying. ”

“Wait, screwed with him? How?” Griffin asked. His brows were furrowed in what seemed like worry and a tinge of anger.

“Let's just say it was surprising to find he has a hidden kinky side that I…dragged into the light. Then I made him beg for it a bit,” I confessed, finally looking up to meet Griffin's gaze.

His face had flushed with color, and he seemed to be having difficulty swallowing his food.

“Griff? You alright?” I cautiously asked, not sure I really wanted to hear it if he was gonna throw judgment my way about how I was handling the Rhys problem.

“Hawk, what the hell? You fucked him?” Griffin's face ran the gamut of emotions, finally settling somewhere around shock.

“What? No, I didn't fuck him. I'm not that hard up,” I scoffed. “I only…messed with him to get inside his head. He wants to hate me so much, but he can't resist what I've been showing him about himself. He's so confused about what's happening between us, but he doesn’t want to stop it. He’s right where I want him. Eventually I'll have him drowning in shame and regret for ever allowing me in.” And maybe he’ll learn to hate what he sees in the mirror as much as I do.

I watched as Griffin processed what I told him and then shook his head. “Man, I don't get it. I thought you'd go all macho captain on his ass and scare the shit out of him so he'd drop the complaint just to get rid of you. I didn't think you'd play phone tag with the freak and wank him off, or whatever you did to him,” he griped, pushing his food around.

His grumpy attitude was confusing since Griff was usually laid back and actually liked my fucked up side. It even turned him on sometimes. I honestly didn't care what he thought about it. It was what I needed to satisfy the demons in my head. After starting this twisted journey with Rhys, there was no way I was stopping until I had him on his knees for me, in more ways than one.

“Don't worry, G. I'm just getting started. Trust me, that Ned Flanders prototype will get what's coming to him soon enough.”

He grunted a noise that betrayed his disbelief in my plan, but it didn't matter. I was nothing if not a stubborn asshole and I was fixed on showing Rhys just how badly he screwed up when he screwed me over.

My phone vibrated again on the table, but this time it flashed my uncle's name as he called me. My temper spiked, knowing this was about my aunt. My uncle hardly ever acknowledged me unless it was for a random check-in every couple months or so. Uncle Jack traveled so much for business that I only remember him being around a handful of times each year I lived with him and Aunt Blair. When my mom was alive, he was around a lot more and we'd been close at one point.

Then she died. Our relationship changed, as did a lot of things that weren't worth brooding over anymore.

I let out a frustrated breath and answered my phone, stepping away from the dining room for a little privacy. “What is it, Uncle Jack?” I asked curtly.

“Callum, have you heard from your aunt lately?” His deep brogue came across the line.

Whomp, there it is. I love being right, but in this case I wish I fucking weren't.

“Yeah. What about her?” I said, feigning boredom even as my stomach pitched at the thought of her.

“What has she been saying? Has she been…bothering you about anything?” Uncle Jack asked carefully.

“Uhh, I'd say roughly thirty texts in the last twenty-four hours constitutes bothering me,” I growled. “And she's still asking for what she has been since last year. Only now she's more persistent.” And entirely un-fucking-welcome.

His heavy sigh reached me through the phone and I could sense how exhausted he was. He always worked himself to death, and Aunt Blair never made things easy on him either.

“I'll talk to her about that. You haven't sent her any money, have you?” he asked.

I scoffed and took a deep breath, tilting my head back to stare at the ceiling, wondering why I couldn't escape this goddamn family already. “Nope. I told her last year that I barely have enough to live off of since my scholarship only covers school expenses. I'm not giving her a dime. She seems to think mom's life insurance was a hell of a lot more than it was, and she won't believe me otherwise.”

I thought I heard a faint curse in my ear. “Look, I'll take care of it. I just got back from a business trip and caught her texting you. I wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said gruffly.

“Like you care,” I bit out quietly, but pressed on before he could respond. “Why does she keep asking me for money? You make more than enough for the both of you, so why bother me? I'm getting fucking sick of it. I don't want to hear from her, ever. ”

“It's my fault,” he admitted softly. “She was drinking more and putting dents in our accounts, so I cut off her spending right about the time she started badgering you. I'll see to it she doesn't bother you further. I'm sorry she's been a nuisance. I know you two have a rocky relationship?—”

“Rocky?” I chuckled dryly. “Yeah, we’ll go with that.”

If rocky was defined as malicious, hateful, and abusive. But hey, what the fuck do I know? According to everyone, including my uncle, I was just mistaking discipline for abuse. It's all good apparently.

“Callum…”

“You know, as lovely as this chat's been, I've got shit to do. Just promise me that you'll get her to leave me alone. At least do that much for me,” I said caustically.

Silence greeted me from the other end and if I hadn't heard his soft breathing, I would have thought he'd hung up. “Contrary to what you think, I do love you Callum. I promise I'll take care of it. Maybe…I could see you before I leave on my next trip? I'd love to talk with you and catch up.”

The request had my eyes stinging, tears threatening to emerge from the hope in his voice. There was a time I would have given anything for him to want to spend time with me, save me from the horror that kept me company while he was always gone. Now it was an agonizing reminder that I wasn't enough. That I wasn't believed. That I wasn't truly loved.

“I'm busy,” I gritted out from my painfully clenched jaw. He let out a defeated sigh.

“I understand. If you change your mind, I don't leave again until next Monday. I'm only a phone call away,” he relayed.

I hung up on him before the emotion I was feeling choked me. His call was supposedly a good thing since it would get Aunt Blair off my back, but it only dredged up shit I locked up and encased in cement a long time ago. I couldn't think about any of that without going off the deep end, so I shoved it back down before making my way back to Griffin.

Once he caught sight of my face, his eyes grew comically wide. “Woah. Who pissed in your Fruit Loops, Hawk?”

“No one. I've gotta head out, get some homework done before my next class. Catch you at home later,” I said, not giving him a chance to reply before I got the hell out of there. I headed across Speedway toward the library, planning to go find a secluded table where I could stew in silence and get some work done. However, fate had always been a thirsty bitch for me and she kindly granted me the sight of Rhys ambling up the steps of the library mere feet ahead of me.

Oh looky here, my favorite chew toy. It's the fix I didn't know I needed.

I jogged a bit to catch up with him, sidling up to his left. “If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were stalking me, Evans. You know it's illegal in all fifty states.”

Rhys jumped at the sound of my voice, letting out a startled yelp that made my inner asshole clap his hands in glee. His wide, violet eyes looked nervous as I moved a bit closer and invaded his space.

“I'd point out the flaw in your logic about who is actually stalking whom, but that'd be the tripwire for a conversation that would make me want to gouge my eyeballs out,” Rhys grouched, speeding up like it would help him evade me.

I easily kept pace with him and slung my arm around his shoulder, his body stiffening under my hold. “Fine, don't play with me,” I pouted. “We can talk about other things, like what brings you to our fine library today besides your obsession with me?”

Rhys let out a barely perceptible growl that I found slightly adorable until I set that thought on fire and burned it. I needed to remind myself of the goal here. Taunt, torment, and shake up.

When he didn't respond to me any further, I pulled away from him and tried a different tactic. “So how are you doing in your classes so far? What's your favorite?”

Rhys rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated breath as we walked up the stairs to the upper levels. “Seriously? Talking to you is giving me whiplash. One second you're a crass, barbaric imbecile and the next you're trying to have an actual conversation with me. I don't know why I entertain this crap from you,” he muttered petulantly.

“It was an honest question, Sweetness. I'm genuinely curious how school's been with you so far. You strike me as the kind of person who actually likes school and papers and all that jazz. Am I wrong?” I asked, inclining my head toward him innocently.

He flashed me some suspicious side-eye before heading over to a table on the fourth floor far away from the couple groups of students studying.

“Fine. To answer your question, yes. I love school. I enjoy learning and gaining more knowledge, even about random things. I like being able to demonstrate my intelligence and actually use what I've learned, which is why I don't mind tests or papers. It makes me feel like I'm accomplishing something. I like to think the smarter I am, the better life will go for me,” he said, not bothering to look me in the eye.

“Hmm, interesting. And all this time I thought that ignorance was bliss,” I mused.

“I guess that explains why you're always smiling like an idiot,” he deadpans, finally catching my gaze.

I chuckled quietly at the claws I always seemed to provoke out of him. He dropped into the chair across from me and I followed him down. “I like to think I found a balance between brains, brawn and beauty. In my experience, the smartest people have had some of the toughest times. They're usually taken advantage of and don't always function the best. Brains only get you so far, Sweetness.”

“Yes, well we can't all have pretty boy looks to get us through life. Some of us uglier folk have to rely on other strengths,” he said sardonically.

“I guess it's a good thing you're pretty then,” I replied, the words tumbling out of my mouth before I realized what I had said. Rhys' head jerked up and he looked at me with a mix of confusion and suspicion. For a few moments, we just stared at each other, the air around us thickening with tension.

I didn't know what was happening, and it made my skin itch just below the surface. His eyes were penetrating, searching for something in my gaze that I wasn't sure I wanted him to find. My original intention for following him up here was forgotten as we continued in this charged stare-off.

Rhys was the first to break the awkward silence and buzzing energy between us. “I seem to recall you telling me in the showers I wasn't really anything great to look at. I don't know what you hope to gain by lying to me now,” he murmured, his eyes never moving from mine but holding an accusatory glint in them.

“What makes you think I'm lying now? Maybe I was just being an asshole then and said that to screw with you,” I asked.

“Gee, maybe because I've never been told that in my life outside of my family? I'm not as naive as you think. I know what my strengths are and my looks aren't one of them.” A soft pink bled onto his cheeks, coloring them with embarrassment.

“Have you ever given someone a chance to tell you how beautiful you are, or did you just not believe it when you've been told?” I asked curiously. A voice was screaming in the back of my head to stop this line of questioning because it sounded like I was trying to convince him he was desirable. I mean, I guess he was to someone who liked his type.

If I was being honest, Rhys wasn't ugly despite my jab to him that night. He had wavy, brunette hair and subtly sharp cheekbones, and his teeth were perfectly white and straight, if not a bit on the small side. He had a slight frame with just enough muscle definition that contrasted his soft, youthful appearance. But his unique violet eyes were the most entrancing thing about him. They seemed innocent and sweet, yet also penetrating and hypnotic.

And I couldn't look away from them.

“I imagine it's easier for you to think of yourself as ugly and unwanted because it keeps people from getting too close,” I continued on, seeing the vulnerability swirling in those unusual orbs of his.

“Why wouldn't I want anyone getting close?” he asked, just above a whisper. The atmosphere surrounding us was becoming stifling and a tingle zapped through my body. The need to suddenly touch him in some way hit me out of nowhere. I sank down in my chair a bit, toeing off my shoe. My foot found his leg under the table and I slowly dragged it up his inner calf.

I saw Rhys' breath catch across from me, his eyes widening the smallest fraction. But he didn't stop me.

“I think if you let someone get close, you're opening yourself up to rejection and being hurt…” I started, moving my foot a little higher past his knee and onto his thigh. I felt the shiver from Rhys' body radiate into me from our point of contact, and it encouraged me further.

“And I think you've had quite a bit of pain in your life already,” I hedged. The answer was there on Rhys' face, reflecting back a pain I knew too well. My foot made the journey higher until it met the junction of his thigh, an inch or so away from his cock. His eyes slipped close and he released a harsh breath.

“But even though you're afraid of getting hurt, you still want more…” I said breathlessly, lost in watching for every microexpression of pleasure and pain that crossed his features. I grazed his cock with my toe, not surprised to find it getting hard from my touch.

“Hawk…” Rhys whispered, one of his hands clamping down on the table's edge and his eyes still tightly shut .

“You're terrified of someone seeing who you really are, yet still craving the connection. Even if it comes with more pain, it's nearly worth the risk because of how much you want it, how desperately you need it,” I hummed, my breathing speeding up to match Rhys' as my foot slid up and down his cock, coaxing it to harden for me.

“Mmm…” he whimpered. Rhys bit his lip, unwilling to look while I played with his body, whispering secrets across the divide that could have been meant for me as well as him. That thought leeched in past the lust hovering around us, and I recognized that Rhys' fears mirrored my own. I knew his pain because it lingered in my own mind.

Despite my history of suffering and having it drilled into me how unloveable and unwanted I was, I still desired a connection. Even if I would never willingly admit it to myself, I wanted someone to want me no matter the cost. That same desire in Rhys was a tether between us that I didn't want to admit was there, but somehow longed for in the deepest parts of me. I didn't want Rhys to catch on, to see what was beneath my surface like I peeked beneath his.

I was right in what I told him. Connection led to pain, and I'd had enough to last a lifetime. If there was to be pain between us, I wanted it to be a pain I controlled. That I inflicted.

I froze on the spot, trying to draw up the anger and hostility toward him that I had forgotten in those moments. Rhys' eyes fluttered open when he realized I had stopped touching him, and his gaze snagged on me once more. He must have seen something on my face because he leaned toward me, almost unconsciously.

“Cal?” he asked gently, those purple gems holding so much concern for me that it made me feel ill. “Are you okay?”

Hearing my name fall from his lips again had my chest clenching, memories resurfacing of another sweet, gentle voice saying that name long ago. Why did that one word coming from him tie me up in fucking knots?

I snapped out of whatever stupefied state I was in and shoved my chair back. I hastily jammed my foot back in my shoe, irritated with myself for being so weak. “I'm fine. I just…need to go,” I said, snatching my backpack up fast. I stood up, unwilling to see what was written across Rhys' face at that moment.

“Wait, what's wrong? Maybe I can help,” Rhys said, his voice dripping with sincerity and it almost shoved me over the edge. Why would he want to help me at all after what he did? After what I did to him?

I narrowed my eyes at him, my demeanor now icy and hard. “You want to know what's wrong? You. You are the problem. You want to help, Sweetness? Then call my Coach. A little footsie and a nice conversation might have distracted me for a minute, but they aren't enough to erase what trouble you brought me.”

I stormed away, leaving him and his stunned expression behind so I could remind myself why I was talking to Rhys Evans in the first place. Somehow in trying to get Rhys to drop his guard, I had lowered mine as well.

That couldn't happen again or I'd be as good as screwed.