Let's break some more rules, shall we?
EPOV
"Oh, you wanna tap that ass, too, huh? How nice. Deleted." I angrily remove the comment left on our latest video with a loud click of my mouse on my laptop. My eyes flicker down to further comments below.
I'm fluent in sarcasm now.
"You want her to ride your dick, big boy? Fuck off." Another one deleted. I can't stop reading them now once I've started.
"You wanna taste her sweet pussy? You and me both, bro." I let out with a frustrated sigh. One more comment about Bella and I'm –
Those tits –
"Fuck this shit."
Comments disabled. It's done with a click of my mouse.
I sit back in my chair. I feel mildly better.
Still conflicted. Still not completely accepting of these new feelings towards Bella. Most importantly, I'm not denying them. I can't deny them.
They're almost impossible to ignore.
It's Sunday. Four more days until Thursday. Not like I'm counting or anything.
I even answer a phone call from Mom on the first ring in hopes it will keep me preoccupied.
"We'll fly in on that Monday and spend the week," Mom says through the phone. "Show us around your new neighborhood before graduation."
It's quiet enough at the house that I can have a phone call with my mom in relative peace. With finals looming closer with each passing day, the normal rowdiness and typical debauchery of the semester calms to a functioning level. I mean, it's still a frat house so I can still hear the guys all over the house despite my door being shut, but Mom blabbers on and on about everything she feels I need to know about without letting any background noise slow her down.
My phone is cradled between my shoulder and my ear as I sit in front of my laptop at my desk. Frustrated at those comments about Bella from annoying keyboard warriors on the internet, I minimize the site in disgust and anger. I know we're playing with fire with posting this shit. I just didn't expect to become so protective over her. Well, more so than I already am. I feel almost territorial; part of me wants to go over to her dorm and piss around her building to mark my territory. To keep everyone else away.
To claim what's mine?
Confusion settles into the pit of my stomach again and I reach over to chug the beer I have sitting on my desk.
I didn't log into the site earlier to check our stats. The truth is that I couldn't stop thinking about our latest upload. There was something about the way it was, everything about it, that seemed different. She was closer this time. There wasn't much, if any, space between us. Our faces were inches apart. I watched her.
I saw everything.
And three days later, I still can't get it out of my mind.
Finishing the beer in an impressive few gulps, I glance at the calendar pinned onto a corkboard behind my desk, and I notice that the only thing I have penned into the week of my parent's visit is my graduation which is scheduled for Thursday of that week.
Two weeks and I would be a college graduate.
I wonder when I will feel different. I heard that's a thing – to feel different once I become a contributing member of society.
With a shrug, I focus back to Mom on the phone. "Monday sounds good. I'll be done with classes and everything by then," I answer. Looking back at the calendar, I see this coming Friday is circled with red words emphasized all over it.
END OF INTERNSHIP.
I had written those words on the calendar back in December when I had received a 2020 calendar for Christmas from my parents. I think back to who I was back in December, and I wonder briefly if it's possible for a person to feel such personal growth in oneself in only four and a half short months. I remember walking into those huge, clear glass doors of the station and feeling almost miniscule inside of it, lost among professionals of all ranks and positions. I had wonderful mentors, people who gave me shit everyday but also taught me how to give shit to others, professionally, in a work space. I never knew how much you could learn new and challenging things in a fun, learning environment.
According to Bella, this is essential in teaching, as well.
Accustomed now to Bella invading my mind frequently throughout the days and nights, I pull myself away from my calendar and thoughts of Bella and again, try to refocus myself.
"Great. We'll help you move what you need to Jasper's, too, if you need. We'll rent a van," Mom says.
"Thanks," I reply, looking around my room to take a quick inventory of my belongings that I would be taking with me once it's time to move out of the house. With the furniture in the room staying behind, I don't have a lot of personal items that take up a lot of space. It will fill the back of a rental van, for sure, but nothing more than that.
"I don't have too much I need to bring. Jasper has all the furniture I'll need for now." With the apartment above his garage at home already furnished, the only things I need to bring are my clothes, surfboard, and laptop.
And in two weeks' time – my car.
"I think your Grandma has some extra end tables if you need them."
"Thanks," I say with a chuckle, thinking of how Grandma Cullen's end tables that were practically made out of doilies would look in our apartment. "I'll let you know."
I guess the thought of Dad's mom, Grandma Cullen, segues perfectly into Mom's next topic of discussion. "Dad wants to take you car shopping when we're down there," she says. "Wants to make sure you get the best deal out there."
"Oh," I say, and try to hide my discomfort at the topic. Chances are I have more money from my new skills in front of the camera than what Dad has from the insurance company from my old hunk of junk Riley was driving around in before he totaled it. How could I get out of going with Dad? I don't want him to question my sudden burst of income so I try to think of something on the fly. "Okay. I was going to go with Emmett and Jasper one day this week but I can wait for Dad."
I can see why Dad wants to go with me, and to be honest, a part of me twinges at the thought of missing out on this opportunity, this rite of passage, with Dad. At the same time, how would I be able to explain being able to put down the significant amount of money for a down payment that I will have?
"You were going to buy a car this week?" Mom questions with a tone of voice that suggests she thinks I'm crazy. She's most likely right but I don't comment on it. "With what money?"
Thousands of miles away and I can still see the face she's giving me through the phone.
Lie, Cullen. "I tutored some freshmen," I say. Lie better. "Won some bets here at the house." It's not exactly a lie – one time Seth won fifty bucks for putting a toy car up his -
"Well, if you want a better deal, just wait for Dad. He's got the insurance money," Mom interrupts.
"Yeahhh, about that…" I trail off, opening back up to our latest video to check our stats for the hell of it. I see the latest numbers and my jaw drops. "You can give it to Riley."
I won't be needing it.
-ptp-
On Tuesday at the station, during our last commercial break before our show signs off for the day, I'm thumbing my phone looking for car dealerships near me and talking back and forth with all of us in our group chat. Somehow Mom convinced me to wait for Dad before I headed into a dealership so I figure that searching for something I like wouldn't hurt anyone. I don't really have anything specific in mind; I'll just be happy to finally have a car to call my own again. When I purchased my first car back in high school, it had been a celebratory moment. I had worked my way through high school and all of my blood, sweat, and tears from working my ass off ever since I was legally old enough to work paid off in the purchase of my first car. It rattled when I hit 40 mph and my visor fell off and hit me in the head if I slammed on the breaks too hard, but it was mine.
A private message from Bella outside of the group chat pops up as my car search continues.
You sure you're okay with taking money out of the account for our hotel room? I know it's breaking another rule.
I had put a deposit down for our hotel room for the night of the formal using our shared account made from our profits. Fuck the rules.
Some of them.
Yeah. We'll make the money back. Plus some.
That I am absolutely confident about, especially since I took a quick peek at our stats on the site on Sunday.
Sighing, I run a hand through my hair at the thought of spending an entire night with Bella in a hotel room. Uninhibited by nosy dorm neighbors or roommates that could come back due to an unforeseen change of plans, the possibilities are endless when it comes to what I want us to do in that room.
I clear my throat, remind myself where I am so I don't poke someone's eye out with the massive hard on I'm sporting, and get back to perusing cars on my phone.
This time, as I look through several different options that pique my interest, I think that once again I've managed to work my ass off at something for myself. This time, it was the most fun way I've ever earned cash ever. Not necessarily through blood, sweat, or tears this time.
Well, definitely sweat.
Thinking about sweat makes me think about Bella again, about that light glisten across her chest and collarbone from last Thursday's session. That thought is not alone – it's brought others.
Her above me. Her legs clenched against the outside of my own on her futon. Her face when she came seconds after I asked her to. Her face when she came for a second time right after I did.
Instead of being excited at the thought of being able to buy a car with a hefty down payment and low monthly increments, somewhere along the line I begin picturing Bella in the backseat of my newly purchased vehicle. Instead of visions of walking into the dealership ready to pick a car of my choosing and ignore pushy salesmen, I'm searching for cars that offer larger than average back seat space. I'm searching for cars with a perfectly leveled hood for me to lift her onto and spread her legs wide enough for me to fit between them.
I'm –
"Car shopping?"
I look up to see one of the hosts of the morning show, Marcus, reach across the table where I'm sitting to help himself to another cup of coffee. Even though we're almost off air, the morning show ends at ten in the morning and the rest of the day we spend in meetings and planning for the next day's show and for the rest of the week. Our station is one step away from offering coffee intravenously.
It isn't the first time I've spoken to Marcus, and I like to think that I sound more mature and less tongue tied each time we converse. I tilt my phone towards him in response.
"Yeah, man. My younger brother totaled mine back home in Chicago," I say, putting my phone in my pocket. "Can't bum rides from campus once I graduate."
"I hated that. Not having a car on campus," Marcus says, shaking his head. "Made sense not to have one, but still."
"Most of my friends are from around here so they brought their cars so they could go back home easily if they wanted to. They let me use theirs whenever I need to, really."
He nods and stands up, taking his coffee with him. "Here," he says, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. He fishes out a small rectangular shaped card and hands it to me. "Ask for Ben. Tell him I sent you."
My phone buzzes with another message from Bella.
I hope Ben can find one that measures up to all of my newfound car fantasies involving a certain brunette.
-ptp-
"They're going to throw you a party?" On Tuesday night Jasper, Emmett, and I are playing Madden in Emmett's room. We've been spending a lot of time together, just the three of us, here at the house. It's an unspoken agreement we all have that we have to enjoy these last two weeks together before things change. Spending the last four years together created a lot of comfort and routine that is going to be shifted once graduation comes.
"Yep." I say with a swallow of my beer. "Well, not just me. All of the interns."
"Where?" Jasper asks, not taking his eyes off of the screen.
"Some bar Friday night," I say, searching through my phone to read the name of the place someone had said on the invitation email. "On the company credit card."
Emmett whistles. "Between that party Friday and formal on Saturday, there's a good chance you may not make it to Sunday."
"Can't forget tomorrow night, either." Jasper reminds us and points to a crumpled up flyer that I had dismissed as garbage earlier when I first joined them in Emmett's room.
"What's tomorrow night?" I say, reaching for the folded paper that had seen better days.
"End of the year party. They went with the carnival theme this year," Jasper says.
"Like an actual carnival here on campus?"
He nods. "Yeah. They started to set up on the soccer fields a few days ago."
"You're right, Em. I may not make it to Sunday."
We all toast to ending Senior year like it should.
-ptp-
The air is light and filled with excitement with the threat of another semester and school year coming to a close. For tonight, textbooks and exams and papers are left deep inside locked dorm rooms and talks of group projects and oral presentations have been banned. Tonight, we enjoy the microcosm we have created within the gates of this campus. We focus only on the way the sun lights the world orange around us, the humidity still slick in the air but loosening its grip around us by the hour.
I look around and see schoolmates lost in laughter with friends of their own, each group enjoying the evening within their own cliques and clubs of choice. I feel like one of the biggest differences between high school and college isn't so much the workload, though that is a big part of it, but is really the fact that in college, you're free to be yourself without any judgment from others. Social circles and petty games ended the minute I had stepped foot into this sunny world, and it hits me while I stand in the middle of the soccer field that I'm going to miss this more than I thought I would.
I have been so wrapped up in the future – landing a job, getting a car, planning the quickest commute to work – that I completely forgot to live in the moment.
That's what I plan on doing from now on.
I scan the soccer field and am pretty impressed with the way they've managed to transform the area into looking like a real carnival. There are carnival rides everywhere, games to play and money to waste. They're selling homemade lemonade, Funnel Cakes, Fried Oreos, and freshly popped Kettle Corn. A large Ferris Wheel stands in the center of it all, flanked by the worst kind of spinning rides that are guaranteed to make us throw up.
I can't wait to do it all.
"You hungry?"
I slurp the last of my lemonade to the bottom of the cup so the only thing that's left is the freshly squeezed lemons. I nod and point to the lemonade stand for a refill.
I love carnivals.
"Starving."
"There's so much fucking food here," Jasper says, and I think I may see drool forming at the corner of his mouth.
"Tons of food and not a ton of tables," Rose says, eyeing up the area with tables for seating. I see her eyes widen as she watches a group get up. "On it."
I stay in line for lemonade and watch as they make their way to the open table. Alice and Rose stay behind to save the table while Jasper and Emmett hunt down food from one of the many food trucks that are parked in a neat row on the perimeter of the grounds. I stand there with my lemonade, straw in my mouth as I weigh my options.
I eventually join Emmett and Jasper in the Twisted Steak line, my mouth watering at the thought of a cheesesteak on top of a twisted pretzel in place of a bun.
This may be the most delicious thing I've experienced is the last thought my deluded mind thinks before I turn and see Bella join Alice and Rose over at the table. She's met us here after her time with Liam. My Bacon-Ranch Twisted Steak has nothing on Bella in a short denim skirt with a white shirt that hangs off of her shoulders a little on each side. She's got on a pair of simple flat white sandals, a toe ring and one of those little ankle bracelets things on, and I turn into a grown man salivating at the sight.
"Watch the grub," Emmett warns, catching my dinner before I mix up my sports and fumble my food like a football as I stand on a soccer field.
"Sorry," I mutter, and with a roll of my head on my shoulders, I head over to the table with a determination to play it cool and casual.
Wrong.
Apparently cool and casual means nothing to me when I'm around her, or when a sexy little smile flashes across her face as I slide into the open seat next to her. I wonder if she sees me and thinks of things we've done in secret the way that I do every time I catch sight of her.
"Where do you plan on putting all that?" She jokes, nodding towards the feast I'm holding in my hand. The sound of her bracelets on her wrists ping together as she moves to make room for me, becoming another sound I'll always remember. I laugh and place my plate down on the table, one hand tossing napkins to Emmett and the other doing something that breaks all of the fucking rules.
It happens in slow motion.
But I still can't stop it.
It's as easy as breathing.
While Emmett is catching the napkins, Bella crosses her legs and my hand finds the place just above her knee where they connect. I place my hand there, the swaths of smooth, tanned skin hidden beneath my large hand.
It feels natural.
Like I've done it thousands of times.
But at the same time, it's new. It's electric. It's a green light. Not a stop sign.
It's in front of our friends.
I'm in the process of sliding my hand up the silky expanse of her thigh when we both realize this at the same time – where we are and who we're with - and we break apart like we're on fire.
That may not be far from the truth.
There's a part of me on fire now.
I've never been more thankful for napkins in my entire life. A gust of wind had taken the napkins I had tossed at Emmett into the air and down a few tables, so the attention had been on catching the errant napkins than on Bella and I.
We avoid each other's stare, not trusting what we will find reflected on the other. We hadn't been caught but we don't escape unscathed.
In fact, by the time we're all done eating a little while later, I'm rushing Bella onto the Ferris Wheel and sliding my fingers beneath her skirt and pushing unnecessary underwear to the side.
It's the fucking skirt.
I can't get to where I want fast enough. Grateful for the tall barriers of each Ferris car, I position us so no one besides me can see. She's leaning against my shoulder, facing the other side of the ride so my back and shoulders are in view from the front. She's almost completely hidden, which is exactly how I want her. Her head is leaning against my shoulder, her one leg pressed up against the back door to our car.
She's a walking sin.
She places a hand on my wrist, and for a moment I'm afraid she wants me to stop. I will, no questions asked, but I pray that stopping is the last thing she wants to do. I remove my fingers as she fidgets next to me, brushing up against hard evidence I couldn't hide if I even fucking tried.
"Here," she breathes, handing me her phone opened and ready to record.
"Are you sure?" It catches me off guard; catching this on film is not a concern of mine. I look at her next to me and bite back a sound that could alert everyone to our entertainment. I press play.
"God, yes." She breathes back, her hand reaching for my own. She places my hand up her skirt and exactly where she wants my fingers again. "Now."
I had already started recording so the growl I let out at the sight of her taking charge is there for the world to hear but I don't give one single fuck about anything other than my fingers slipping in and out of this girl next to me.
There's a guide to a successful fingerbang; the difference between summoning a genie and looking for coins stuck in the bottom of a coin purse.
Some girls can come from my fingers alone and by the way that Bella is low key writhing in our own private ride on this Ferris wheel, I feel higher than the height of this carnival ride we're on. She's gripping my wrist with one hand, her other hand pushing my fingers in further, her legs gripping both our hands tight between them as she presses them closed to everyone around us.
Everyone but us.
The phone stays below the car out of view from others.
Fuck everyone else. Nothing, and no one else, matters when she comes on my hand.
Just her.
She's disheveled and wobbly. Drunk on pleasure and high with desire. I'm adjusting myself when she looks down to my excitement, leans over and whispers in my ear as we greet our friends who had thought Ferris Wheels were lame and opted to skip the ride.
"Later."
-ptp-
Later arrives excruciatingly slow. The sun is long gone, the moonlight leading our way for the rest of the evening. We spend the next two hours riding rides and losing all our money on games for weak prizes. We enter contests we'll never win, we sing Karaoke with a group of professors. We take pictures, we laugh, we joke, and Jasper almost pukes.
The rush of The Gravitron has nothing on the way Bella makes me feel when she hands me the keys to her car from her bag and tells me to pick her up in fifteen minutes outside of her dorm. I don't know how she plans on sneaking out, nor do I care, but I swear it's the longest fifteen minutes I've ever wait in my life.
I park my car a little further down from her room, not wanting Rose or Alice to pop out in a perfect Gotcha! moment. Like the little vixen in position she is, Bella's already sent our video over to me. I feel like a fucking pervert watching it in my car while I wait for her but she's too damn sexy for me to wait any longer and I've been threatening to blow a load in my pants every time I think about her.
I slink down in my seat even though no one is around and I enjoy it all for a second time. It's quick, and it may not get enough hits as our others, but to each his own. We've already gotten a following, based off of those ghost-faces leaving comments on our shit about Bella, so it'll be profitable.
Profit is the last thing I'm thinking about when she joins me in the car. We pull out of campus and I head down the road, this time placing my hand on her thigh again without plans on moving it any time soon. Her window is down and her hair whips around her face in a messy whirl of fun and weightlessness.
"Where am I going?"
"Turn down here," she says, pointing to a dimly lit road void of any incoming traffic. I follow her command, which I notice seems to be turning into somewhat of a pattern recently, and hiss when she reaches over and presses her hand in my lap once the streetlights are our only companions on this deserted road.
"Fuck," I pant into the car, my voice slicing into the beat of the low and steady bass coming from the radio. I don't take my eyes off of the road, frantically looking for the quickest place I can pull over to do this right. She takes me out of my pants, her hands molding to form what could be the world's quickest handjob.
"You good?" She whispers, leaning her face into my neck, and I can feel her lips against my skin as she talks.
I am so not good. I'm losing fucking control and fast.
I don't have time to answer her.
I can't answer her; I lose all ability of speech when instead of her hands pulling me towards ecstasy, she leans down and takes me fully into her mouth.
"Fuck, Bella!" Are the only two words that stumble out of my mouth before that ditch comes awfully close to our car and the tall grass threatens to envelope us in the dark of the night.
-ptp-
12 year old me watching Fear with Mark Wahlberg and Reese Witherspoon on the rollercoaster was a fucking turning point in my life. LMAO.
Sorry to end it on somewhat of a cliffie – oops. And quick spoiler: they're fine!
I have plans in place to update with another chapter before I disappear to the beach for three days next week – but no promises. Hopefully see ya no later than Tuesday!
Thanks for all the love – I Love them more than Twisted Steaks. My God they are delicious.