Page 18 of Destroying Everleigh

“Tighter.” He said again, breathier this time, but in a playful way. I tightened my grip even more.

“Tighter,” he moaned.

I laughed, slapping him on the back of the head. “Screw off.”

His chest vibrated with his own laughter before he started his bike and took off, shooting out of the parking lot of the school. The wind whipped through my hair as we made our way onto the main road. My thin shirt flapped against my back while we rode, a calmness settling over me. I always liked riding his motorcycle. It made me feel so free and offered a rush of adrenaline that I couldn’t get anywhere else. He expertly wove in and out of traffic before slowing at the first stoplight.

We were pulling into my driveway way too soon for my liking and he killed the engine. He braced his feet on the ground, holding the bike in place to let me climb off. To my dismay, I did, running my hands through my hair to smooth it out.

He was behind me moments later, grabbing his bag out of the back compartment of the motorcycle and slinging it over his shoulder. He glanced around my empty driveway with a stitch between his brows.

“Briley had a game right after school,” I explained. “It’s out of town, so my family is heading there now.”

He nodded, but his throat bobbed like the thought of being alone with me wasn’t a good idea. We’ve been alone before. Kind of. I usually had a sibling here, or my family was asleep when he came, but we’d still been secluded.

“You don’t have to stay if it’s weird to you,” I offered. “I’m fine by myself.”

He hesitated before his charming mask slid back over his features. “Nah. Unless you try to seduce me, we’re good.” He grinned.

I scoffed. “Yeah, like that’s going to happen,” I teased. “Now come on.” I grabbed his hand, leading him to the front door. Once we reached the entrance, I dropped his arm and slipped inside.

I kicked my shoes off by the door and he did the same before we moved into the kitchen.

“Do you want anything?” I asked, rummaging through the cabinets for a quick snack. When I found a box of popcorn, I held it up with a grin, like I’d just won the lottery.

“Hell yeah. We can make popcorn and then I’ll watch you hide your face like a little girl while we watch a scary movie.”

I snorted in response. “I don’t do that.”

But it was a lie. I very muchdiddo that. He was an asshole for pointing it out. He laughed, not caring to call me on my bullshit. I grabbed two bags of popcorn, popping one in the microwave before leaning against the counter.

Jameson stood a few feet away with his hands tucked into his pockets. His dark hair shined beneath the bright lighting. The electricity was usually off at his place, sometimes the water was too. Poor guy could never catch a break. So, when he needed to shower, he came to one of our places. My parents adored him as much as they did Ashton. They didn’t know a lot about his home life, but they’d seen the bruises, too.

When the popcorn was done, I grabbed it and slipped the second bag into the microwave in its place. I turned toward one of our many cabinets and reached for one of the large plastic bowls, but my legs were too damn short.

“Damnit,” I hissed, my fingers brushing along the edge of it. I tried jumping but that only made the counter dig into my stomach, shooting an uncomfortable sting through my abdomen.

Jameson laughed, coming up behind me. He was careful to keep his distance, but the warmth of his body still bled through my clothes. He reached over my head, grabbing the bowl before taking a step back. I whirled around, snatching it from him.

“I could have gotten it myself,” I lied.

He arched an eyebrow. “Yeah. I’m sure you could have.”

I shoved against his chest to put more distance between us, but he just laughed again, throwing his hands up in surrender. I moved back toward the microwave, placing the bowl on the counter beside it. Grabbing the bag of popcorn, I broke the seal and dumped it inside. When the other bag was done, I repeated the process and snatched a container of nacho cheese powder from our spice cabinet, sprinkling the orange substance all over the steaming popcorn.

Discarding the trash, we made our way back into the living room and settled onto the large sectional. I grabbed a throw blanket, placing it over both of our laps before putting the bowl on top of mine and reaching for the remote.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him staring at me. But I couldn’t even begin to decipher why. So, instead, I just pretended not to notice it and hit the power button on the TV that took up a huge portion of the wall before us. The lights were off, only allowing the sunlight to bleed in through the windows. He reached across me, taking a few pieces of popcorn before popping them in his mouth.

I scrolled for a while until we agreed on a movie neither of us had seen before. As most scary movies begin, it started out with some couple getting murdered mid-make out session.

“Amateurs,” he muttered, shooting me a boyish grin.

I rolled my eyes, but a small smile played around the corners of my mouth, too. I reached into the popcorn, grabbing a handful before dropping some in my mouth. We sat in silence for a while, watching the movie unfold as we both took turns grabbing popcorn. After a little while, I glanced over at him again.

“There are drinks in the fridge if you want some,” I offered.

He groaned, dropping his head back against the sofa. “But I’m so comfortable.”

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