Page 89 of The Naughty List

“Just what, Felicity?” he asks, and it’s only now I can see the anger on his face.

“I just wanted to have fun. I wanted you to have fun.”

“Watching you degrade yourself isn’t what I consider fun, Felicity. You’re drunk. I’m taking you home,” he says, forcing my shirt back over my head. I have no choice but to put my arms through. When I do, he latches on to one of them, then drags me around the house and to his car.

My eyes open and lock on a picture I still haven’t packed. It’s sitting on the corner of my desk. His smiling face stares back at me.

“I forgot all about that,” I say, embarrassed all over again.

“Ah, it was a long time ago. I’m sure nobody remembers.”

“You do,” I point out. “That’s bad enough.”

He laughs. “Just another fun memory I have of you.” I can hear his smile.

“Fun memory? Ha! If I remember correctly, you weren’t having fun. You were pissed!”

“Hell yeah, I was. All my friends were drooling all over you. You’ve been mine since you were seven years old. I wasn’t going to let them see you like that.”

I smile at his overprotectiveness. I’m his? And I have been since we met when I was seven? My heart starts racing with that thought. I’m his. His.

“Anyway,” he says, stealing my thoughts. “I thought I’d just give you a call and wish you luck tomorrow.”

“You’re coming home too, right?”

He doesn’t answer.

“Carson Lee Wells, you promised!” I remind him.

He laughs. “I know, I know. And yes, I’m coming home too.”

I can finally breathe. I can’t imagine going back home and not having him there. “Good, and don’t forget, you owe me for missing my graduation.”

He chuckles lightly. It’s a deep sound that I can feel in my bones. “I promise, I’ll show you a good time to make up for it.”

Tingles flood my body when I hear about him promising me a good time. I wonder what that could mean. “Okay, I’ll see you soon, then.”

“See you soon, sweetheart.”

“Bye,” I say, and I hear the click of his phone hanging up.

I let out a sigh as I get up and move over to my bed. I throw myself back, dreaming of his face. His blue eyes and the way they seem to cut right through me, making my heart skip a beat. The sharpness of his jaw and his defined cheekbones. That little dimple in his chin and the two that appear on his cheeks when he really smiles. They only come out if the smile is genuine. If it’s forced, they don’t make an appearance. I close my eyes and picture him standing before me. His tall, muscular body is twice the size of mine. I can see myself running my hands through his short dark hair, over his neck and collarbones, over his pecs and down to his narrow waist where I can unfasten his jeans.

Stop! No good can come from this. If Carson wanted you, he had plenty of chances as we were growing up. We met when I was seven and he was ten. We became friends, then teenagers together. We went through the awkward phase together. I stood back and watched him date girl after girl; every time he introduced me as Felicity, she’s like my kid sister. Every time, it broke my heart because even at seven years old, I was completely in love with him.

I’ve been waiting for my chance with him. I thought starting college would make him see me as the woman I am and not some little girl who tags along everywhere he goes. I thought that if I showed him how much I had grown that night my senior year, he would finally see. But he didn’t. He didn’t see anything but a child misbehaving. He rescued me. I only wish I could have done the same for him.

Sleep finds me quickly even though I don’t mean to nod off, but the stress of finals has worn me down. Being warm, comfy, and thinking about Carson though, it pulls me into a warm happy place. Our childhood.

“Hi, I’m Felicity,” I say, coming to a stop in front of the new boy who just moved in next door.

He looks at me with his brows pulled together. “I’m Carson. Hey, are there any boys in this neighborhood to play with?” he asks as he spins around to pick up his bike that’s lying in the grass at my feet.

I shake my head, feeling my pigtails slapping the sides of my head. “Nope, no kids. Just me.” I smile proudly, happy that I finally have a friend to play with.

He scoffs. “That figures.”

I frown and cross my arms over my chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

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