Page 11 of It's Only Ever Been You

“Umm, yeah… no thanks! You know that’s not my scene. I’d rather stay here and curl up with a good book.” She says, rolling her eyes like I have the audacity to ask her to come to a party.

“Come on, Em, it’ll be fun. You need to get out of your shell a little and let loose.” I say, giving her my best pleading look as she joins me on the porch and we sit on the steps.

She shakes her head, crossing her arms, her mouth set in a stubborn line. “Ethan, you know parties aren’t my thing. It’s just a bunch of people I barely know… and a bunch of people I don’t know at all.”

“Exactly,” I say, leaning forward. “Perfect chance to meet new people. Come on, everyone’s gonna be there.”

“Yeah, which is exactly why I don’t want to go,” she mutters, looking away.

I groan, running a hand through my hair. “Em, please. Just this once? For me?” I put on my best puppy-dog eyes, hoping it’ll break her resolve. “I need a wingman, well a wingwoman in this case. You wouldn’t leave me to fend for myself with all those thirsty girls, would you?”

She raises an eyebrow, her eyes widen in surprise then she tries to hide a smile. “You? Need a wingman? Sorry, wingwoman?”

“Yes,” I say, nodding emphatically. “And you’re my best friend. It’s in the job description to come to at least one high school party with me.”

She rolls her eyes again, but I can tell she’s wavering. “I don’t know… I’ll just be standing there awkwardly while you’re off with your other friends.”

“Not if you’re with me,” I say, scooting closer. “Look, if you come with me, I promise I’ll stay by your side the whole time. I’ll even ditch the football guys if you want. Just…come. It’ll be good for you, Em. Step out of that comfort zone of yours a little.” I bump her shoulder to emphasize it.

She sighs, looking down at her hands. “This really means that much to you?”

“Yes,” I say, grabbing her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “You’ll have me there, I swear. Ifyou’re miserable, we can leave anytime. But first you need to change, I don’t think your pj’s are appropriate.”

She looks down at her body and her face reddens. “Uhh…yeah. What time are we going?”

“Now, go change. I’ll wait here,” I reply, tugging lightly on the ends of her braids. “And lose the braids—your hair looks better down.”

She rolls her eyes, muttering something about me being bossy, but she doesn’t argue. As she heads inside, the faint scent of her shampoo lingering in the air, and my hand drops to my side. For a second, I just stand there, staring after her, and before I can stop it, a thought slips into my mind.

Her hair has always been something I’ve loved, that deep shade of golden blonde that gets streaked with white blonde the more time she spends outside. It’s sunshine, soft and warm, and I can’t help wondering for a second what it would feel like to wrap my hand around it. To hold it, pull her in, and kiss her until neither of us can breathe.

The image is a punch to the gut, sharp and sudden, and I jerk my gaze to the porch floor, swallowing hard. My pulse kicks up a notch, heat rushing through me in a way that feels both completely out of control and entirely too natural. Damn it. Not good. Not good at all. She’s my best friend. Thinking about her like that—it’s wrong. Right? Dangerous. Stupid.

I shift on my feet, shoving my hands into my pockets as if that’ll help me steady myself. But the thought lingers, hot and insistent, making me glance toward the door again. I need to get my head on straight before she comes back, before she can read whatever’s written all over my face right now. Not to mention the fact that I’m getting fucking hard.

Subtly, I adjust myself, trying to will my body to calm the hell down. Focus. Coach screaming in my face during practice, that time Jaxon puked on my cleats, or the idea of eating a week-old tuna sandwich. Anything but her. But it’s harder than it should be. Because even when she’s not here, she’s here. In my head, messing me up in ways I don’t even understand.

When she steps back outside a few minutes later, her braids undone and her hair spilling over her shoulders, I look away fast, pretending to check my phone. My mouth goes dry, and for a second, I have to remind myself to breathe. If I stare too long, I know I’m in trouble.

……………………………………………………………

The music hits me as soon as we step through the front door. Jaxon Summers doesn’t do anything halfway, and tonight’s no exception. The house is packed with people, half of whom I don’t even recognize. It’s loud, chaotic, and the air’s already thick with the smell of cheap beer and too much cologne. Typical Jaxon.

Emma’s next to me, her eyes wide as she takes it all in. She’s not exactly a party person—not that I am either—but Jaxon begged me to come, and I thought maybe it’d be fun. Now, I’m not so sure. When I told her to change I didn’t expect that she’d put on a short semi tight sundress that shows off way too much cleavage. It’s distracting and it won’t be just me noticing. Fuck! Why did she have to get hot while I was gone?

“Hey, there you are!” Jaxon’s voice booms out, and he strides over, clapping me on the shoulder. “Took you long enough, man.” He glances at Emma, his smile widening. “And you brought Emma. Nice.”

Emma gives a small smile, shifting closer to me, and I can tell she’s feeling out of her element. I want to tell Jaxon to back off, as he eyes her up and down and luckily he’s already being pulled away by some girl in a short skirt, and I let out a small breath in relief.

We make our way through the crowd, finding a spot in the living room where it’s a little quieter. A few people nod at me, and I see some of the guys from the football team giving me knowing looks. The kind that usually comes with a smirk or a teasing comment. I ignore them, my jaw tightening as I shift my attention back to Emma. I don’t want their looks, their jokes, or whatever crap they’re thinking right now.

She’s not just some girl I’m walking into a party with, and I don’t want them seeing her as anythingless than what she is: my best friend. The one person who actually gets me. The one person I don’t want them turning into a punchline.

Still, I can feel their eyes on us, but I keep my focus on Emma, on the way she looks around trying to take it all in without letting it overwhelm her. This is her first party, and for some reason, I feel like I need to be the one who makes it okay for her.

“You alright?” I ask, leaning in so she can hear me over the noise.

She nods, smiling up at me. “Yeah, it’s…a lot, but I’m fine.”

---