Page 165 of Withered

I look over to Jake, who is rubbing the back of his neck, for some help. “Tell them.”

He casually shrugs. “Yes, we did.”

If I said my eyes went wide earlier, they surely popped out of their sockets now.

I punch him on the arm, and he corrects himself. “We just kissed.”

I’m waiting for Jake near my car after school. I had to convince him to ride in my car today. That wasn’t even the difficult part; I had to persuade him to let me drive. It wasn’t easy, but he caved as we were getting late.

Tyler and Jake both come up to us. As Kristy leaves with Tyler, I say, “Get in.”

“At the very least, let me drive it now,” Jake utters with sounds resembling a whine and a groan.

I toss him the keys, and we switch sides. I slide into the passenger seat, throw my bag on the backseat, and fasten my seat belt.

“I’m driving your vintage car one day,” I say as I turn in my seat.

He chuckles and starts the car. “Alright.”

“Let’s go, baby,” I cheer.

“Baby, huh?” Jake smirks, glancing my way.

“I was referring to this.” I pat the dashboard.

“So, I’m not your baby?” He asks, his eyes set on the road.

“Should I start calling you baby?” My lips curl into a smile. Just the idea is enough to put a whole damn zoo in my stomach.

“Nope,” he states.

I take the opportunity to tease the hell out of him. “Will it make you sound like a little boy?”

He scoffs. His hand, which was on the gear, grabs my hand and places it right on his crotch. A shudder runs through me when I feel him through his jeans.

“Does this feel like a little boy to you?”

I try to retract my hand, but his grip is strong. The tension inside the car shifts from amusement to pure arousal. The hard flesh under my hand sends an electric spark all over my body, halting midway through hardening my nipples and finally stopping at the aching core between my legs. He loses the grip, and I withdraw my hand as if it were just put on a Bunsen burner.

I don’t say anything after and cut the awkward silence by playing music. Taylor Swift blasts through the speaker.

“Taylor Swift? Why am I not surprised?” Jake smirks.

“Because she is thequeen,” I tell him, and the atmosphere abruptly shifts again.

He parks the car in the driveway, and we head into my house. Mom and Dad have been very busy lately, and since Jake promised me he would stay by my side, he is sticking to it. He drops his bag on the couch, and I head directly for the kitchen.

I’m almost done with my glass of juice when Jake enters the kitchen, and I say, “Watch something; I’ll take a quick shower.”

I take a relaxing bath, and once I’m done, I walk out, my wet feet dripping water all over the tiled floor. I look for a towel but realize I forgot to bring one. I can simply step into my closet and get ready.

I'm about to step out when I hear Jake’s voice say, “Are you done, Evans? Sherill called.”

His voice is near the door, which only means he is outside, in the closet area.

“Uh, Jake, could you please pass me a towel?” I ask him, popping my head out from behind the closed door.

I point to the rack on the right side. He nods and hands one to me. In my haste to close the door, my feet slip on the wet pooled water, and I fall on my bottom, my eyes closing briefly and a scream leaving my lips.

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