Page 23 of You Had Me At Thirteen

I scowl at him, then try to focus on the page in front of me in an attempt to come up with something to read to Wren. I’m just glad we get to write our own pieces. Having to stare at him is hard enough, let alone trying to write something with him.

After another fifteen minutes, I’m still staring at a blank page. Wren is confusing me on so many levels. My brain is telling me to leave him alone, while my body is screaming at me to let him do whatever dirty and naughty things he wants to.

Such a traitor.

Not one of the two boys I’d slept with so far has ever evoked such conflicting emotions within me, and I haven’t even had sex with Wren. One moment I want to smash his face in, the next my vagina is writing love letters hoping to get up close and personal with Wren’s entire body.

I rub my temples with the tips of my fingers, but when Wren pushes the laptop off his thighs and leans his head back against the couch to stretch his arms above his head, my instincts kick in and I find myself unable to control my body.

With his eyes closed, I’m able to watch him more intently. The way he swallows has me reaching for my throat as I scan over his angular jaw and straight nose. He really is beautiful. When he’s not speaking, that is. When his mouth runs, he’s fucking annoying. But I bet he knows how to use that mouth.

I clamp my thighs together when his shirt rises, showing off his abs. There’s a small smattering of dark hair that trails down his lower stomach before disappearing beneath his jeans. Seeing him up this close, I’m noticing things I can’t see from my window.

I take a moment to realise that once again, he’s watching me, and for the second time in half an hour, I’ve been caught out. He runs his tongue along his bottom lip, while those eyes have me digging my fingernails into my palms. He has me pinned with his stare, and I’m unable to move, let alone speak.

I hate the way he has my heart palpating, and my stomach in knots. No other male has elicited such a physical reaction before. With other guys, either they want to hook up or they don’t. I’m not bothered either way. I’m not looking for happily ever-after, because it doesn’t exist. At least not in my world.

As a female, I’ve grown up reading and watching fairy tales, preparing for Prince Fucking Charming to come along and sweep me off my feet. Except, the only thing I want sweeping me off my feet is my bed, not some narcissistic, lying scumbag who only tells me what I want to hear.

So, why can’t I seem to pull my shit together around Wren? He’s definitely no Charming.

‘Wren,’ I say, my voice just above a whisper. I’m squirming in my seat, trying to look at anything but him. But that’s not something I’m capable of. He’s sucking me in, like gravity trapping me in his orbit.

‘Matilda… I need to tell you…’ He trails off, shaking his head as though he’s in a daze. He glances down at his phone on the floor next to him, then bolts upright, running his hands through his hair. ‘Shit, I need to go,’ he says, looking towards the hallway.

‘Wait, what were you going to tell me?’

‘It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.’

‘Okay.’ I drag out the word as I stare up at him. ‘What about the assignment?’

He grabs his laptop and tucks it under his arm. ‘We’ll sort it later,’ he says, as he stalks out of the room.

‘This was your idea,’ I say as I come up behind him, our footsteps on the timber floor echoing through the house.

‘I have somewhere to be.’

What’s more important than this assignment? Then I realise. It’s Thursday. I open my mouth to ask him more questions, but he’s already out the door.

When he stops at the porch steps, I think he’s going to say something, but he just groans and continues on his way, marching off into the darkness, muttering something under his breath.

Did I say something wrong? Back there in the room, I felt something between us, but I’m not sure I want to explore what that something is. Or do I?

Jesus Christ.

I really don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. How hard is it to focus on finishing my final year of high school without turning into one of those stupid girls whose brain stops firing on all cylinders when Wren looks their way? I am not one of those girls.

I’m really not.

With Wren out of sight, and the sound of his front door slamming ringing through my ears, I sink into my egg chair on the porch and close my eyes.

I have never met a person so frustrating and annoying and arrogant. Thank God I’m not interested in a relationship. I have no time for that kind of nonsense. Especially with someone like Wren, who just made it easier for me not to care about him.

At least that’s what I’ll keep telling myself.

ELEVEN

Wren

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