Chapter 32
NECESSARY ROUGHNESS
“You okay?”
Layla was slumped in the passenger seat of my parked truck, staring absently out the window. She’d been a bundle of nerves the whole ride over, but I could hardly blame her. Oh sure, she tried to play it cool, but I knew she was falling apart thinking about this party.
Cooper Benedict’s going away party.
Registration at Baltimore U wasn’t until the end of August, but he was heading down a couple weeks early to take advantage of an internship at some law firm. As in tomorrow. So, of course the news spurred a mandatory blowout at Rymer’s house.
I’d just pulled in his driveway and cut the engine, but Layla was taking an extra beat before getting out. You’d think I would have been resentful that she was so torn up about saying goodbye to her ex, but the truth was, they spent more years as friends than they ever did dating. It would have been ridiculous to be jealous. Of course she’d have an emotional reaction to him leaving.
The depth of her heart was one of the things I loved most about her.
She gave a silent nod of her head, so I escorted her from the truck and walked her around to the back of the house. Motley Crüe was blaring as we made our way up the deck stairs. The usual suspects were already there hanging out, drinking, talking... One would almost be led to believe this was just any old party. Too bad that wasn’t the case. Fact is, this shindig may have been billed as a sendoff for Coop, but we were all very aware that it was pretty much the last hurrah for the rest of us, too.
Tonight was marking the first of many goodbyes yet to come as we all took off in different directions across the map to live out the next chapters of our lives. Would we ever be in the same place like this ever again? Would we remember who we were to each other? Would we grow up and forget to be idiots?
Maturity blows.
Lay beelined for Lisa, so I went to the cooler to grab us a couple beers. Pickford was there to greet me. “Yo, Trip. You made it.”
“Yeah. Finally. Layla kind of...” I trailed off, not quite sure how to explain her denial about the entire evening. How she hadn’t even settled on an outfit by the time I picked her up. How she hadn’t said a single word on the ride over.
Pick pursed his lips in understanding. “Yeah. Those two are kinda tight.”
I didn’t claim to understand their connection. The only girl I’d ever been close with was Layla, and that was because I was in love with her.
Cooper walked over to shake my hand, Becca clinging to his side. “Hey.”
“There he is!” I said. “Man of the hour. How’s it going, dude?”
He shot a look at Becca before answering, “It’s going.”
An unspoken understanding passed between them, and I got the impression he wasn’t exactly psyched to be leaving. He and Becca had just gotten together the same time as Layla and me. I couldn’t imagine what he was going through, having to leave her so soon.
Becca would only be about two hours away at Rutgers-Camden, but two hours was a helluva lot further away than across town. Layla had already told me they were going to try and make a go of it anyway.
I looked over toward her, sitting with Heather off in a corner, still quiet, still sullen. I became aware of a distinct ache in my chest, the full realization sinking in that we weren’t being given the option to “make a go of it.” We had no plan to stay together once the summer was over. In just a few weeks, I’d be taking off for places unknown and Layla would be leaving for NYU and that would be that.
This was it. The beginning of the end.
* * *
After a few drinks and a few laughs, Cooper announced that he needed to cut the party short, explaining that he had an early start in the morning.
Layla came over, slipped her hand into mine, and leaned her head on my shoulder. She was sad that it was time for Coop to leave, but I couldn’t even imagine what her reaction would be when it was her turn.
Coop made the rounds to say goodbye, ending up in front of me. We both took a beat to stare at each other in shared silence, acknowledging our history. We’d run the gauntlet, he and I. Started off as adversaries and ended up as friends. There was no need for a rehash. The important thing was that we’d landed in the same place.
We shook hands as he shot me a meaningful look from under his raised brows. “Take care of my girl.”
Layla squeezed my hand a little tighter in silent warning, but there really wasn’t a need; I’d already chosen not to correct him.
She was, after all, my girl.
“You got it. Good luck to you, man.”
He clapped me on my shoulder before giving a final wave to the crowd and leading Layla into the house. I knew they needed a private moment to say a proper goodbye, and they wouldn’t be able to do that here in front of us knuckleheads.
Pickford handed me a can of beer, grinning like a total wiseass. “Congratulations.”
“On what?”
“On not laying Benedict flat-out for calling Layla ‘his girl.’” He threw an arm around my neck in a headlock and messed my hair. “Awww, little man is growing up!”
I laughed as I shook him off. Rymer tried to get us to do a shot, but I was already two beers in and I still had to drive.
So yeah. I guess the little man was growing up.
Lay walked back out onto the deck looking like she’d seen a ghost. The girl was absolutely devastated. I handed my beer to Pick, explaining, “I think that’s my cue to get her out of here.”
I offered our thanks to our host before escorting her into my truck.
She was silent on the ride home, and there was no way I was going to attempt to get her to talk about it. There wasn’t anything to say anyway. I knew she was upset about Cooper leaving town and I knew she wasn’t looking forward to performing this same goodbye ritual with the rest of her friends. Neither was I.
As I pulled in front of her house, the plan was to grab her daily leaf for her, walk her to her door, make sure she was okay. But before I could even cut the engine, she climbed on top of me and rammed her tongue down my throat.
I had no problem with that.
I slid the seat backwards to give us some more room, and she took advantage of the space to plant her knees on either side of my thighs and grind herself against me. Her aggressiveness was out of character—but extremely hot—and I found myself getting hard instantaneously. I grabbed her hips and pulled them against mine, the both of us groaning into each other’s mouths with wet, sloppy, maniacal kisses.
She broke away to look at me, a wicked gleam in her eye, her swollen lips quirking as she unbuttoned her blouse. I sat there stunned as each button came undone, exposing a new inch of rarely-seen skin. She left the blouse on her shoulders, but parted it at the seam to show off her pale blue push-up bra.
Bless me, oh Lord, and these thy gifts which I am about to receive, through your bounty, through Christ, our Lord. Amen.
She pulled my face into her boobs, and I accepted the invitation, grabbing one in each hand and burying my mouth in the space in between. I went to town on her cleavage, licking, biting, wanting to rip her pretty lace bra from her body and suck on her perfect tits.
Her fists knotted in my T-shirt, surprising me when she pulled it over my head. She ran her hands down my chest before following her fingertips with her tongue, and holy shit I wanted to fuck her right there in the street.
Things had gotten out of control pretty quickly, and I guess in our enthusiasm, we got a little rough with each other:
She pulled my hair.
I bit her shoulder.
She raked her nails across my chest.
I jacked my hips against her.
I slid my hands under her little skirt and grabbed her ass in my palms, pulling her tightly against my raging hard-on. She rammed her tongue into my mouth and dry-humped me into delirium. It felt so, so good.
A little too good.
I started to slip my fingers under her panties when I remembered myself. What was I going to do? Finger-bang her in the road, for godsakes? In front of her house?
It was agony, but I tore my mouth from hers. “Hey, whoa, Layla, wait wait wait.”
I shook myself out of the daze and shot a look at her front door, making sure we hadn’t been seen. She grabbed my face and pulled it to hers again, fighting me.
I grabbed her wrists in a halt. “Lay, what are we doing? We’re out in the street for chrissakes!”
“What’s the matter?” she asked as I nudged her off my lap and adjusted myself in my jeans.
Fuck. This was gonna hurt.
I scrambled into my shirt so I’d be clothed when her father came out to kick my ass. Which he was inevitably gearing up to do right at that very second. “We can’t do this. Not here. Trust me, Lay, I really want to—like, really really want to but—”
“I’m sorry,” she said, buttoning her blouse and smoothing her hair back into place. “I don’t know what got into me.”
“I do. Another minute, and it would’ve been me. I almost got into you.”
That made her giggle. I was glad one of us was able to find something funny about the situation.
Not.
She slipped her hand into mine and said, “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
“Yeah,” I answered flatly.
“You sure you’re alright?”
I threaded our fingers together before raising her hand to my mouth for a kiss. “Yes. A little blue, but I’ll be fine.”
She kissed me goodnight and headed into the house. I watched her all the way to the front door before heading home, where I went straight to my room and jacked off.