one of my so-called friends. Someone at the party will swear they have the latest juicy gossip, and it won’t matter if it’s true or not. Not to them.
I suppose that’s how I ended up here again, back in her pool house. Touching her things. Smelling her clothes. Remembering the way she tried to hold back her emotions tonight in front of everyone after she’d been humiliated. Admittedly, I wanted a front-row seat for that show. Kail might be a liar and a fake, but her tears were real. Gavin’s were too when I pounded the hell out of his face.
I’m not going to analyze the reasons I did it. I just know when I found him lurking behind the school, trying to peel himself out of the costume, it had to be done. It wasn’t for Kail. It was because I felt like it.
I flop onto her bed and focus on the ceiling she stares at every night before she goes to sleep. Her sheets smell like her too. The fading notes of Skylar Salt Air haunt me. Sea and sky. That’s what her name means. It should come as no surprise that she’s a walking olfactory wet dream too. Why did she have to turn out to be another fucking liar?
My phone chimes again. It’s Audrey.
Psycho Parasite: WTF KILLIAN???????!!!!!!!
I reply with six middle finger emojis and toss the phone aside, closing my eyes as I bathe in my enemy’s scent. I guess it’s true what they say about forbidden fruit. Kailani is the sweetest poison. I’ll never taste her again. Not after she pieced together her own narrative after waking up at that party. She had to go and make me the villain. But I suppose we all have our own narratives of what happened that night. Mine is one of betrayal, and Carson’s is one of drunken stupidity.
Kail can spin her web of lies as long as she wants. If hating me gets her off, let her have it. My hate for her keeps me warm at night. It keeps my dick hard, and my thoughts loud. So loud, sometimes the only thing to do is give in.
I tug down the zipper of my jeans and drag my cock out. There isn’t anything to pass for lube within reach, so I wrap her sheet around my flesh, using it as a silky sleeve. Fuck, that’s soft. But Kail would be softer. Warmer. My head sinks into her pillow as I recall the way her tits threatened to spill over the edges of that dance uniform tonight. That shit should be prohibited around a bunch of hormonal fucks like me.
By the time I got back to the locker room, someone had already scribbled an ode to Kail’s tits on the wall. Someone who clearly didn’t know there would be a price on their head if I got wind of their name. I blacked out the message with a Sharpie and replaced it with a note to the artist to get fucked.
I wonder if Jared fucking Price touches her tits.
My fist jerks harder, faster, but my frustration is stalling out the orgasm. I need something… more. My eyes dart to her nightstand. There, staring back at me, are her pristine white knee socks. Hell yes.
I wrap the end around my dick and go after it with reckless abandon. Fuck you, Kailani. I repeat that sentiment until I blow my load deep into her sock and release a haggard breath. I feel lighter and somewhat vindicated as I squish my come between the fabric and throw it back onto her nightstand where she left it.
I’m zipping up my jeans when the knob on the door turns, and the hinges creak. It’s dark in here, but she doesn’t bother turning on the light. She isn’t looking for the monster inside. She doesn’t know I can see the outline of her body in the moonlight as she collapses against the door. Her head tips back, knees nearly buckling as agony rips out of her lungs like a wounded animal. Tears drip down her face, staining her pretty cheeks.
There’s an intimacy in witnessing something so raw. I’m so used to scripted emotion that I can’t remember the last time I observed pain this real. She’s got me under a spell, held captive by her devastation. Strangely, I can feel it too. This is what tethers us together, destroying us from the inside out. We’re tied up in knots, and the worst part is