Chapter Seven: Shouldn't Have
"Come out with me," whined Tara, for the five thousandth time that night.
"For the last time, no! I don't go out! I stay in! I'm a freak, remember? Go with Aidan," I said, rolling my eyes and attempting to go back to my book.
"He's in Raleigh, visiting Kylie. And probably getting laid by some city slut. I need you. It can be… your introduction into society," she said, snatching my book away again.
"No! I don't do society. I don't do parties!" I exclaimed, yanking back the paperback book.
"But I can't go out alone," she moaned. I glanced at her, attired in her tight low waist jeans, her tube top.
"Sure you can. It would do you worlds of good," I said distractedly.
"Shut up. And I might need a designated driver!" she insisted.
"Tara, I'm fifteen! I can't legally drive!"
"Yeah, but you're a better driver than me anyhow, and no one would arrest you. Ooh, doorbell," she said, leaping up and running downstairs.
I followed her, hoping desperately that it would be someone to take her to the party to get her off my case.
My wish was granted. Will was at the front door. Tara hugged him gratefully.
"Great, let's go," she said, grabbing her bag from the table and preparing to leave.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"We're going to the party at the Hutching's, remember? I mean, aren't we?" she asked, hovering in the doorway.
"Sorry, I just came over to help your sister with her basketball idea," he said.
"Ohhh. Okay, that's fine. Have fun with "basketball"," she said, raising and lowering her eyebrows.
"We are?" I said at the same time.
"We are," he said again.
"And for the record, some people can hang out without having sex, even if those people aren't you," I said viciously, annoyed again at my sister. She rolled her eyes and stormed outside.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I demanded angrily. We weren't friends. He had no right to drop by unannounced.
"I wanted to help. I thought we could make some flyers for your girls basketball team. I think it's a good idea. And I've seen you play," he said.
"And?"
"It's a turn on. And you're pretty good," he said. I folded my arms across my chest.
"Come on, we don't have to be friends. I'm just trying to help," he said.
"I don't need help. You're the captain of the guy's team. Doesn't it kind of defeat the purpose?" I asked.
"Why do you have to be so God damn…" he said, looking at a loss for words.
"Reclusive?" I suggested.
"Bitchy," he countered.
"Oh, piss off. I don't need you," I said.
"So you're just going to stay here all evening, all alone in the big house. In the middle of a storm, waiting for everyone to get back, hoping all the doors are locked…" he pressed. I shivered. I was afraid, when I was alone in the night.
"I'm fine. I can take care of myself," I said.
"No one said you needed taking care of," said Will.
"You did!"
"So what's it going to be, Duchess? Making flyers or hiding under the bed with a flashlights and a butter knife?" he persisted.
"Fuck off," I said, turning around and walking upstairs, half expecting him to follow me anyway.
A half hour later we were sitting amicably on the floor, drinking soda and coming up with designs for my mega plan to revolutionize Tree Hill through basketball. The storm had begun in earnest.
"So you think there'll be a wide enough interest?" he asked.
"I think so. A couple of my friends. I know some girls who play with the younger guys because there's no girls team. We'll mange. We'll recruit from surrounding places if we need to," I said, strictly professional.
"If we can both get behind this, it might even get the more… you know, popular people in on it. Especially if Tara helped," he said.
"Or Aidan," I suggested. He smiled.
"You've just got Aidan wrapped around your little finger," he joked.
"I don't. We're not like that. Not like… my parents," I said.
"Okay. I like your shirt," he said.
"What are you, gay?" I asked. He raised an eyebrow and glanced significantly at it. I blushed: it was one of my few shirts that were closer to lingerie, and it was nice. Medium pink, a wide v-neck edged in pink lace with the spaghetti straps made out of the same pink lace. Cute, girly, yet fairly revealing.
"I'm not. So maybe we could host tryouts on… Wednesday. We don't have practice then. And there's a league you could get involved in, if you start practicing soon," he said.
A crack of thunder made me glance backwards into the closed window, the rain pattering fiercely against the class.
"Are you scared?" he asked. I swallowed.
"Yes. I'm scared," I said. He looked surprised when I revealed my true feelings for once.
"Do you want me to…" he said. I swiftly cut him off.
"Stay right where you are and keep talking about logistics? Uh huh," I said. He laughed. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, three feet in front of me. My knees were bent in front of me.
Slowly he uncrossed his legs and moved forward on all fours. I gasped when he reached me and kissed me gently, gasped further when he managed to easily climb on top of me, my back flat on the carpeted floor.
As his tongue roamed my mouth, I began to feel as I hadn't before. Bright lights were exploding behind my eyes, and for the first time it felt so incredibly right. Like he belonged there, right on top of me.
Reality shook me as a bolt of lightening lit the night sky, and I shoved him off of me and hurriedly stood.
"What the hell was that? For four seconds I was actually beginning to think you weren't the jerk I always thought you were, and then you try and sleep with me. You've known me your entire life. Will you ever see me as a person?" I demanded. He stood slowly in front of me.
"Are you parents home?" he asked. Slowly I shook my head.
I was more prepared when he came forward and kissed me again. I tilted my head and gave in to his kiss and the intoxicating feelings.
As I began to resist, prepared to pull away, his hands wound around my arms and kept me pulled against him.
"Fuck you!" I burst out, when at last I pushed him off. Desire was bubbling in me. I knew it was showing in my eyes, that he could hear it in my voice.
He didn't hear me again. He pushed up against me again. For a moment, my arms inched around him, my leg curled around his.
I back off several feet, and hit the wall behind me. I was backed into a corner in every sense of the words.
"I need you," he whispered, as our tongue's mingled, our bodies joined.
"Fuck me. Oh, do it now," I said, giving away as he pressed me up against the wall. My mind instantly wanted to retract the words that didn't seem to even come from me, but my body meant every letter.
My body and my instincts took over my thoughts as we pressed up against each other. One of my hands dropped to his waist, deftly undoing his belt and hesitantly touching his hardness while his hand went to undo the elastic in my hair, letting it fall down my back.
I wrapped my leg around his waist he slipped off my shirt. I gasped as he thrust inside of me, knowing that despite what I was feeling, nothing would ever be the same.
Throughout the next few hours we did more than just intercourse. Eventually we progressed onto the bed and he made me come several times before we moved back to what we'd started with.
When we stopped, embarrassment took over. I reflected on how naïve I had been, to take no heed of Aidan and Tara's warnings and let my desires take over.
I stared at him as he walked around the room, collecting his clothing while I had the white bed sheet draped modestly over myself, my head on my pillow, my light brown hair spread about me.
"Is that why you came over?" I asked eventually. He looked up at me.
"No," he said.
"So you actually wanted to help?" I said, surprised and genuinely touched.
"Of course. So I'm going to go," he said. I rolled my eyes again, and lifted my head of the pillow, my long hair following me.
"Go? You're just going to leave?" I asked.
"It's not like I'm going to stay here and wait for your parents," he said.
"They're not home this weekend," I said in a small voice.
"Tara then. She didn't actually think we were going to… you know," said Will.
"Well I didn't either, but it doesn't mean she'll be surprised," I said.
"What do you mean Jordan?" he asked. I gasped in shock when my name slipped through his lips.
"What did you call me?"
"Your name," he responded.
"You never have. Not in years. I've always been Joey, or Duchess, or Scott. Like you've always been Hunter," I said.
"People with a relationship like ours don't refer to each other like that, I guess," he said.
"Like our relationship? We don't have a freaking relationship! We haven't ever! We still don't! Go home, for all I care," I spat out. He took an experimental step closer.
"Jordan…"
"Shut up. Go home, Hunter," I said, my voice hardening when I spoke his name.