The Novel Free

Dirty English



I came out rubbing my hair and watched her scurry around the bedroom.

My eyes darted to her bed, my thoughts dirty. Picturing us there. Fucking. Her mattress wasn’t nearly big enough for the ways I wanted to take her.

She looked jittery as she took in my still damp gym shorts, her teeth worrying her bottom lip. She was wondering the same thing I was … where did we go from here?

She’d changed into a nightie with a large white unicorn head on the front.

“Nice,” I said. “You’ve always been a unicorn girl in my head, and now this proves it.”

She grinned. “Oh? How’s that?”

“You know, because you’re a rare sight on campus?” I grinned.

She smirked. “Thanks. Now if I could only grow a real horn, I could stab people. Like you!” She turned and grabbed a pillow off the bed and tossed it at me. I ducked just as it sailed over my head and crashed into one of her photo frames.

She giggled.

“Oh no, you didn’t.” I rushed her, swooped her up and twirled her around while she screamed.

“I’m going to barf on you!”

“Liar.”

She giggled and I set her down on her feet where she swayed and then grabbed my arm, her eyes laughing up at me.

Something changed in the air, that tug between us sharpening.

She caressed my arm, an unsure yet needy look on her face. “Stay with me tonight.”

Somehow I sensed she didn’t mean sex. Not after the guy at her door.

“Like a sleepover?”

She nodded, a tentative smile on her face. “We can watch a movie if you want. I’ll even let you pick.”

I didn’t want a movie. I wanted her under me.

I scrubbed my face, thinking this was insane and a horrible idea, but she pulled back the quilt on her bed and crawled inside, her body sliding against the sheets. She was so bloody beautiful.

I rationalized. This was purely platonic. No strings. Just me and a girl in the same bed. Sleeping.

But…

I was a heartbeat away from getting in too deep.

She must have sensed my reserve. “I don’t want to be alone tonight, Declan. I—I need some kindness, and you seem to have it in spades. I can’t put words to it, but I feel safe with you and like nothing bad will ever happen to me again. Stay?”

“My shorts are still damp.”

“Then take them off,” she said, patting the bed.

I grinned and took a step closer to her, my body already tightening up at the thought of lying next to her. “Fine with me, but I don’t wear underwear.”

“That’s a problem.”

“Yeah, a big one.”

She blushed, her eyes drifting down to the obvious tent growing by the second in my shorts. Her gaze bounced back to my face as she cleared her throat. “Oh. I—I don’t mind if you’re…wet.”

“Okay,” I chuckled and slid in, biting back a groan as my legs brushed the soft warmth of hers.

“You feel so good,” she murmured as she turned to face me and wrapped slender arms around my chest, flowing into me like honey, warm and sweet. Our legs tangled together, seeming to know the perfect position to touch each other the most, and fuck, it felt right.

She didn’t mention the movie, and I didn’t bring it up.

Her body was a drug, and I wanted to consume her. I wanted to press her deep into those sheets and claim her as mine.

But I didn’t.

I didn’t want to be just one night with Elizabeth. I wanted more.

I kissed her hair lightly, and somehow, I slept.

AT SIX ON the dot my alarm clanged me awake. Monday, the first day of class.

I rolled over, expecting to see Declan’s chiseled face resting against my extra pillow, but he was gone.

Relief hit. No morning chitchat or awkward kisses goodbye.

Yet …

I was disappointed too. For the first time, I wanted the guy to still be there. I wanted to caress my fingers across his tattooed arm and wish him good morning. Sadly, the only thing remaining of him was the scent of his spicy cologne on my pillow. I picked it up and inhaled for exactly ten seconds longer than I should have.

I wasn’t creepy at all. Nope.

I showered, put on makeup, and dressed in a pair of bright red short-shorts and a vintage peasant shirt with cream embroidery, another one of Shelley’s purchases for me. We’d gotten the shirt at a consignment shop downtown, and although it had been too big, she’d taken in the sleeves and bust to fit me. She had an eye for fashion, and I tended to listen to her, especially considering I’d grown up wearing hand-me-downs from wherever my mom could get them. We’d never had much, and what’s funny is I hadn’t even realized it until I’d gotten in at Oakmont Prep and seen how the other half lived—fancy cars, designer clothes, Louis Vuitton backpacks.

Money and power everywhere.

I’d wanted to be part of it—desperately.

I’d figured out quick that the only way to fit in was to pretend to be like them, and I had with the help of Shelley. I’d been young and impressionable and eager to make friends—who turned out to not be real friends.

Everyone but Shelley and Blake had rejected me after Colby told his lies.

After parking my car and trekking across campus, I settled in a seat in my first class, an elective English Literature class taught by Dr. Feldman, one of the toughest professors on campus.

I craned my head to scan the auditorium, searching for Colby’s sandy hair. What if I ended up in a class with him? Now that I didn’t have Declan to distract me, the dread piled up. What was I going to do when I saw him on campus?
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