It’s the first day of school. The first day of school at my new school. I should be nervous, but I’m not. I’m big and good-looking. I’m not going to have any problems. Still, I’d like to get today over and done with as soon as possible. It really fucks things up to transfer for your senior year of high school, but there was no other way for me. We couldn’t stay with Mom.

Still, I can hardly wait to finish high school. Don’t get me wrong—school’s easy for me. I always get good grades. But it’s annoying. At my high school in Miami, I was the king. And still I always felt like I just wanted to get it over with. It’s not so much about the classes and studying. It’s more that I finally want to start living my own life without others telling me what to do all the time.

Soon enough, I’ll be able to do what I want. The question is: What do I want to do? There are a few colleges I’m going to apply to, and I might get a football scholarship if I’m lucky. But is that what I really want? I have no idea. Everyone expects me to go to college, especially Dad. He wouldn’t understand if I didn’t.

So, while I want this year to go by real fast, at the same time, I want it to crawl along at a snail’s pace. And the reason?

Mac…

I chase the thought away. No, there are other reasons. And, dear God, I don’t want to think of her being with Dad. Of her fucking him. Fuck, no images, please!

“Hey, Hunt!” Devon calls from down the hallway, and I walk over to him. He slaps me on the shoulder, and I feign a punch. He laughs.

“Ready for your first practice?” he asks. “Coach is gonna keep an eye on you. See if you’ve got what it takes to play for us.”

With a cocky grin, I nod. “More than ready. I can’t wait to start playing again.”

“I’m sure you’re gonna be a great addition to the team.”

Ava puts her arms around him from behind, and he turns around to kiss her. I feel a stab of jealousy. I want something like that, too, which I’m realizing more and more. Someone who’s there to stay. The problem is—I want that someone to be Mac.

Devon and I have first period together. I’ve always had a lot of friends, but I’ve never had a buddy I actually trusted. I mean really trusted. No, up until now, I’ve only ever trusted Carey, because I know for sure that he’ll always be on my side. But it’s starting to look like Devon’s cut from the same cloth. After spending so much time together this summer, I have to say, I think he’s been a good influence on me.

As starting quarterback, he’s popular as hell, but for some reason he’s not as much of an asshole as most high-school kings. Even I was an asshole back in Miami. But Devon rules with class. The fact that he’s been with Ava forever seems to add to the respect people have for him.

It’s clear pretty quickly that classes here are no more difficult than in Miami. And I brought a good transcript with me—with a great GPA—so I don’t need to worry about grades much. Which is lucky, because here, the school has a no-nonsense policy on the grades you have to keep to play sports. But that doesn’t even matter if I don’t make the team.

After school, Devon introduces me to the coach, who seems super strict, but his team respects him, and that’s what matters. He watches me during practice and makes me do extra drills while he takes notes. When I finally run off the field, exhausted, he stops me.

“I can’t promise anything, Hunter, but you did all right.” He nods at me.

Devon, who overheard him, smiles wide as we head to the changing rooms. “That was the highest praise I’ve ever heard from him,” he says earnestly.

I laugh, relieved, because I thought it went pretty well, too. Carey, who practiced with the JV team, approaches us, looking completely spent. Coach pushed us harder today than the coach back in Miami ever did, but that’s a good thing.

“See you tonight?” I ask Devon as we part ways in the parking lot.

“Sure, man. How did you manage that, by the way? Throwing another party after the last fiasco? And on a school night?”

Carey smiles. “Mac’s not as bad as we thought.”

Devon laughs. “I kind of liked her from the beginning.”

I shrug. “I’m still not convinced she’s with our old man for the right reasons, but she’s okay.”

Carey shoots me a look. “She’s more than just okay.”

“Maybe.”

At home, we start getting the place ready. It sort of makes me sad Mac’s not going to be there. I put on jeans and a washed-out T-shirt, then look at myself in the mirror and wonder whether I should shave. More specifically, I wonder whether Mac would want me to shave.

I don’t know why I’m such a masochist. She’s out of bounds. She’s fucking Dad. Not to mention she’d never start anything with a minor. And even though the legal age in California is eighteen, I doubt she’ll start fucking me on my birthday in March.

And, to be honest, I don’t just want to fuck her. I want something more…

And I never thought I’d say that about a woman.

Speaking of women, when the party’s in full swing, Liza finds me. She just smiles up at me, and I kiss her on the head. It makes me feel very domesticated.

I try to talk to Carey, but he’s distracted. With Katie. The man has finally managed to get laid. Just thinking back to how excited he was makes me smile. And Katie’s a nice girl. A little boring maybe, but it could’ve been worse. And I kind of like that he’s following in Devon’s footsteps instead of mine.

Even if I’m enjoying my casual arrangement with Liza, and definitely don’t regret fucking all the girls in my past, I still want something different for my little brother. He doesn’t have to end up a cynical bastard like me.

Just looking at him, it’s hard not to see that he’s happy. And I haven’t seen him happy in a long time. Not since before our parents’ divorce, actually. Of course, it’s not just Katie. It’s Mac, too.

Strange as it is, Mac has changed our lives for the better. She’s helped Carey cope with his problems so much, helped him understand it’s not his fault our mom doesn’t love him like he deserves. Like I deserve. Oddly enough, the more time that passes without hearing from Mom—the more she shows us she doesn’t give a shit about us—the less it hurts. It’s still hard, but I’m no longer broken by it.

Liza rubs my stomach like she always does when she wants sex. I look down at her, kiss her on the mouth, and whisper, “Later, babe.” Slipping her arms around my waist, she leans her head against my chest. It may not be her I want, but it feels good to be holding someone in my arms.

As we promised Mac, the party’s over by one. I take Liza upstairs, eat her pussy, fuck her, and let her blow me, imagining the entire time that it’s Mac’s caramel eyes looking at me with my dick in her mouth.

When we’re done, I take Liza back downstairs to walk her out. I know it’s not the gentlemanly thing to do, but I don’t want her staying over. It’s too intimate, too boyfriend-girlfriend. Too complicated.

In the front hall, I press her up against the wall again and kiss her goodbye, pushing my hips against hers.

“Oh, sorry!” It’s Mac’s voice.

Liza and I pull apart.

Fuck! Why did she have to get home right at that moment? I don’t want her to see me with Liza when I’m still daydreaming about us being a couple one day—which obviously won’t happen if I keep fucking someone else.

Liza kisses me, sort of embarrassed, and hurries outside. I turn to look at Mac, even though my dick is hard and I’m only wearing boxers. Her eyes scan my body and linger on my hard-on for a long time before she blushes and looks away.

My eyes scan her, too, and I see her nipples go hard beneath her shirt as she studiously avoids looking at me. “You’re allowed to look, doll,” I say hoarsely. “Want me to get it out for you?”

Her eyes dart to mine, shocked. Fuck, why did I say that?

“Sorry,” I say contritely, “I didn’t mean to—”

But she’s already making a run for it.

I grab her around the waist to stop her and pull her back toward me. Which is maybe not the best idea, because now my hard-on is pushing into her lower back. She stiffens in my arms.

“Forgive me, Mac, please,” I murmur in her ear. “Please, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. You just caught me by surprise.”

Her breath is coming faster, and I really have to put effort into not rubbing my hips against her. “Okay,” she says quietly.

“I’m sorry,” I say again. She relaxes in my arms a little, and I have no explanation for why, but I press my lips against her neck, right below her earlobe. Her breath stops for a second, and a tiny moan escapes her lips. That encouragement sets my veins on fire, and my hands wander up from her stomach to cup her enormous tits. Rubbing her nipples, I lick her neck.

“Please stop,” she whispers.

I don’t want to stop, but I can’t keep going if she doesn’t want me to. No, I want her to beg me to continue. I want her to be mad with desire, wild with passion, so horny she’ll let me do anything. I want her to beg me to put my dick in her. But if she doesn’t want me to, I have to accept it. Even if nothing’s ever been harder for me to accept.

I let go of her and step back.

She slowly turns around and looks me in the eye. “I’m sorry if I’ve given you any signals that made you think this is okay. I love Carter.”

Her words pierce my heart like a dagger, cutting me open, ripping up my insides.

All I can do is nod. I want to hit myself for being so stupid. Of course she loves Dad. Why did I do that? Why did I risk our friendship?

“I’m sorry,” I say, licking my dried-out lips.

“I don’t ever want this to happen again,” she says quietly, and I nod again.

“I’m sorry,” I repeat.

Slowly, she walks up the stairs, and I lean against the wall. What the hell was I thinking?

The truth is, I wasn’t thinking. At all. I let my dick make decisions for me. And when has that ever turned out well?

I look at my palms, which were holding her just a second ago. They’ve never felt this great in my life. My thumbs are still tingling from teasing her nipples, and my tongue prickles from the sensation of her skin. I lick my lips, trying to get a sense of her taste again, but it was just one fleeting moment. Still, I know I’ve never tasted anything as delicious as Mac. Instead of curbing my longing for her, it’s rekindled my need for her, which is flaring up like wild flames.

My dick is painfully hard, and I touch it to get some relief. I lean my head against the wall and slide my hand up and down. I imagine her small hands, fantasize that she has to use both of them, and think about what she would say.

I start rubbing harder, faster, squeezing tight. What does her pussy feel like when she melts around me? Is it tight? I hope so. Are her muscles strong? I hope so. Does she know how good it feels for me when her pussy muscles close around my dick and she makes an extra effort to squeeze them tight? I hope so.

I imagine bending her over the armrest of the sofa. One hand on her neck, I push her down. She’s standing in front of me, legs apart, ass stretched up in the air. I let my hand smack against her flesh, making her skin look nice and pink. Fuck—what a view… I’ve never actually been this rough with girls before. I’ve fantasized about being dominant during sex, but so far it’s always been sort of even. But with Mac… Fuck. I want to take her so hard all she can do is scream my fucking name.

Grabbing my dick, I’d push it against her opening and ram it deep inside her. Her muscles pulse around me, shocked by my hard entrance. She moans and screams, begs me to give her a moment, but I just keep ramming into her.

My hand slides up from her neck, grabs her hair, pulls her up, and closes around her throat. I squeeze, and she makes small, anxious noises, but she loves it. I can feel her pussy flooding with lust, getting wetter and wetter. I can hear the smacking sound my dick makes as I stick it deep inside her and pull it out again, again and again, as far as possible.

Yes, Mac likes it dirty.

When I pull out my dick, she protests, but I whisper in her ear, “Spread your cheeks for me.”

A little shudder runs through her, but she obeys. Her fingers grab hold of her bottom and open the door for me. I murmur, Good girl, and, Let me reward you for being such a good girl. I have no idea whether she’s into this or has even tried it before, but in my fantasy, I fuck her in the ass real hard. She whimpers and moans. I imagine tears running down her face as she lets me ram my dick inside. Again and again, she screams my name.

I actually fucked Liza in the ass the other day. It was so different and awesome. Maybe I’m a bit obsessed with anal since then, but the idea of fucking Mac’s round ass is just out of this world. I growl, squeezing my tip so hard it’s almost uncomfortable. In long thrusts, my juice splashes out of me, onto my hand and belly, dripping onto the floor. But in my mind, I’m decorating her pink, spanked ass with it, marking her pink hole as mine.

Gasping, I stand still, leaning against the wall, until my breath settles. When I can move again, I go grab some kitchen towels to remove the evidence.

* * *

“I don’t have time today,” Dad tells Carey yet again.

“It’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair about me having to work? You’re benefiting from it, too, you know.”

“I’m almost sixteen. I want a car and a driver’s license.”

It’s clear he’s putting Dad’s patience to the test. “You’ll get the car when you have a license,” Dad snaps.

“How am I supposed to get a license if you won’t drive with me?” Carey yells.

Dad runs his hand across his face. He can see the dilemma, but something must be wrong at work because he’s hardly ever home. He looks at Mac. “Would you—”

“Me?” She looks horrified. “I can’t give him driving lessons!”

“Why not?” Dad looks like he’s just suggested the best idea ever. “You’re twenty-five. You have a safe car. And I’ll pay for any damage he causes.”

“No, Carter.” Mac shakes her head. “I can’t.”

Dad looks back at Carey. “I don’t have the time. Convince Mac to give you lessons, and I’ll sign whatever I need to for your test.”

“Okay!” Carey smiles, and the look he gives Mac tells everyone in the room she’s already lost another battle.

She looks totally scared, and I’m not sure why. I squint, trying to analyze her face. When she sees me studying her, she looks away—as she’s done every time I’ve looked at her since that night. I could kick myself. It has obviously profoundly changed our relationship. Of course, she never was as relaxed with me as she is with Carey, which is my own fault, but now she’s really keeping her distance. It’s like she’s put up a fence between us—no, a moat—no, a mine field.

I hate it. I hate that she’s scared of me again. Every time she turns her face away, it breaks my heart. I’m a fucked-up bastard for doing this to her. Right now, she’s kneading her hands, which she always does when she’s nervous.

“Why don’t you want to give him lessons?” I ask her gently.

She flinches like I’ve hit her. Abruptly, I get up and leave the kitchen. I can’t stand seeing her like this. And to know I’m responsible…

After changing into running clothes and putting on my headphones, I leave to go for a run. I want to run away from all these feelings inside me—feelings for Mac that are getting more confusing by the day. Do I love her? I think so. But do I even know what the hell love is?

I feel guilty, once again, because of Mac—because it’s my fault she’s feeling guilty now. Because I scared her off just when we were on the way to building a normal relationship.

I’m mad with jealousy, anger, and despair, and it’s all because of her. Mac, Mac, Mac. My whole life is focused on her. I’m losing my mind! I’m not going to survive this. Right? Can you survive love—unrequited love? Hell, is this even love?

Deep in my heart, I know it is. I love her. I love her more than I ever thought possible.

Fuck love!

Yeah, fuck off, love, if all you’re going to do is make me feel horrible!

I run faster and faster, trying to win the race against my thoughts, against her. But all I can see is her face, her brown eyes, and her long, brown hair, all of her mocking me because I can’t have her. I can never have her. I’m done trying.

* * *

“Are you coming to Jerry’s?” Devon asks one day as we walk down the hall after football practice.

I kick at a stone, which sends it soaring. “Don’t feel like it.”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“What do you mean?” I ask, not meeting his eyes.

He gives me a questioning look. “You’ve been walking around with a shitty look on your face for weeks.”

I snort. I have, because Mac’s still avoiding me, two months after the incident in the hall. She’s as loving as ever with Dad, and she jokes around with Carey like nothing’s happened, but with me… She doesn’t even meet my eyes, like I’m scum she can’t stand to look at.

“You’re not fucking Liza anymore.”

“Jesus, did you bug my room or something?” I ask, throwing him a dark look.

“No way. I don’t want to see your tiny dick in action.” Devon grins, but when I don’t respond to his joke, he gets serious again. “Liza keeps whining about it to Ava, and Ava asked me to find out what’s up with you.”

I scoff, the anger rising in me. “Jesus Christ.”

“That’s all you’re gonna say?”

“It’s none of your business, Sawyer,” I snarl.

He raises both hands. “Oh, the young lion’s getting angry.”

I grab him by the collar of his jacket and slam him against the bank of lockers beside us. “It’s none of your fucking business, all right?” I’m so angry I’m sure smoke is coming out my nostrils.

“Calm down, man,” Devon says, forcing my hands off of him. Of course he’s not going to let me treat him like that. “What’s your problem?”

“This conversation is over!”

He straightens his jacket and looks at me with admirable calm. “Your problem is that you haven’t fucked anyone in two months, when you used to fuck someone every other day. You could fix that by giving your little doll a call.”

Anger boils in my veins. My doll is Mac! She’s the only girl I call that anymore. Why did Devon have to bring her back into my head? But she’s not who he means, as I well know. And that only makes me angrier. “I don’t want that cunt,” I mutter.

Devon’s eyebrows shoot up. I’m pretty sure he’s never heard me use that word.

“Fuck.” I run a hand over my face. “I didn’t mean that. I just…I don’t want Liza anymore.”

“So find yourself somebody else, man,” Devon says. “You could have anyone.” He gestures around as if the hallway is full of girls, but we’re actually the only ones left in the building this late after school.

“I don’t want anyone,” I say.

He stops walking.

I turn around. “What?”

He nods slowly, and I can see the wheels in his brain turning. “You don’t want anyone, you want someone very specific.”

I shake my head. If he starts guessing now, it’s only a matter of time before he lands on the truth. “No, it’s not—”

“Oh, yes, it is.” Devon grins. “So why don’t you just go get her?”

I turn around and continue toward the exit. His footsteps fall in behind me.

“Ahhh,” he says. “You want her but you can’t have her.”

Right about now, I’d like to punch him in the face to stop this line of questioning, but he’s my friend. That wouldn’t go over so well.

“Hmm,” he says. “If it was just that she was in a relationship, you’d hit on her anyway. Unless she was in a relationship with someone you care about.” I push open the door and hope it knocks his teeth out as it swings back. But he follows me out before it has the chance. “Like Ava.”

I stop dead, about to swing around, but he continues.

“But it isn’t Ava, obviously. And you wouldn’t start anything with Carey’s girlfriend, but I don’t think Katie’s your type, anyway.” He suddenly stops and pulls in a sharp breath.

He’s got it now. I just know it. I can feel it, like the air in the atmosphere has changed. I glance back at him and see knowledge shining in his eyes, his face wearing an expression that tells me he’s found the answer to the riddle.

It’s like a car wreck. I can’t look away, even though the sight is horrifying.

“No!” he shouts, incredulous.

I’m rooted to the spot, my mouth clamped shut. I can’t even get it open to deny it, either, because I can’t deny my feelings for Mac. I know it’s stupid, but I could never deny my feelings for her, even if she’ll never return them.

“But you hate her!” Devon says, confirming that he’s finally solved the riddle.

I shrug.

He runs his hand through his hair. “Fuck, man.”

I nod. “You can say that again.”

“How? When? Wow.”

I turn around and start walking toward the car.

“Hunt, wait!” He comes chasing after me. “Talk to me!”

“What’s there to talk about?”

I get in the car, and he climbs into the passenger seat. “You love Mac.”

“Listen, you’re my best buddy, after Carey,” I say, drumming a mad rhythm on the steering wheel. “So promise me you won’t tell anybody. You can’t tell anybody. Nobody else knows.”

“Including her?”

I look at my hands. “I don’t know. She’s probably got a hunch. Or maybe she just thinks I want to fuck her. No idea.”

For a minute, we’re both quiet, thinking about the fucked-up situation. Finally, Devon asks, “Do you think you’d stand a chance if she found out?”

I shake my head. “No. She loves Dad.” At least I think she does. I’m still not sure if she has other motivation for going out with him, but I’m pretty sure it’s not about the money. I wish it was. Then I might actually stand a chance to show her what real passion is. “Besides, even if she didn’t,” I add, “she’d never start something with a minor.”

He shrugs. “You can’t choose who you fall for.”

“Devon, people over twenty-one who sleep with a minor could go to jail for a year! Nobody would risk that. I would never want her to risk that.”

He nods. “But what if she’s just a gold dig—”

“She isn’t,” I interrupt.

Devon looks at me. “But you’ve always been so sure about that.”

I run a hand across my head. “Yeah, damn it, but I didn’t know her back then.”

“And now you do know her?”

“I dunno, Dev. But I do know she’s not the type to go after the dough. She won’t even let Dad buy her a new car. She still drives her little pink clown car.” I look at him. “I told you where she works, right?” He shakes his head. “At this private center for abused women. She’s really smart. She could have been anything. But she went into something that’s not going to make her rich, just so she gets to help others. She’s not after the money.”

“I never thought she was, either,” he says calmly. “I never understood why you two hated her so much.”

My fingertips tap furiously against the steering wheel. “We don’t hate her. Not anymore. Carey worships the ground beneath her feet, because she…” I stop myself. I can’t tell him. It’s Carey’s secret, not mine. “Anyway. She’s shown us more than once that we can rely on her.”

“She’s a cool girl.”

“She is, and I’m fucked.”

For a second, it’s quiet. “What if your Dad dumped her?”

That would be great, I think, but out loud, I say, “He loves her. He looks at her in a way he’s never looked at our mom.” Even as I say the words, I wonder, Is that really still true? I’m not sure. He’s gone so much, it’s hard to know.

“Fuck, man,” Devon mutters.

“You can say that again.”

Silence spreads around us once again. We’ve simply run out of things to say. He knows it, too, but he doesn’t want to leave me alone. God, at what point did we turn into little girls who want to talk about everything? And, worst of all, when did it start feeling so good to confide in someone?

Obviously I can’t talk to Dad or Carey. What would I say? Hey, Dad, I’m in love with your girlfriend. And Carey loves Mac. He would never understand me risking our relationship with her. He would never forgive me.

“I don’t know what to say,” Devon says after a while. “I wish I could tell you you’ll fall out of love with her if you just try hard enough…” He gives me a thoughtful look. “Have I ever told you how Ava and I got together?”

I shake my head. “You just said you fell for her on the first day of high school.”

He nods. “Yeah, when I saw her that first day, I was completely smitten. But she…wasn’t.”

My eyes widen in surprise, and he laughs.

“Yeah, we were both only fourteen, but I was already an arrogant loudmouth.”

I throw him another incredulous look, because Devon’s the exact opposite of an arrogant loudmouth now.

“Trust me,” he says, “I was. So, I took one look at her and started talking big about how she was gonna be my girlfriend. When word got back to her, she said she wouldn’t date me until pigs fly.” He smiles wistfully. “Obviously, I couldn’t let that stand. So I set out to prove to her that I could win her if I tried hard enough.

“I tried every trick in the book, man, every single one of them. But she wouldn’t budge. Recently, she actually told me that back then she was scared that if she did give in, I would lose interest in her. And, to be honest, she was probably right. Our whole freshman year, I was obsessed with trying to woo her. And that summer, I saw her down by the lake with another guy. It broke my heart, and I finally realized it was no longer about some stupid challenge—it was about her. I liked her, and I wanted her to like me back.”

He casts a thoughtful look out the window. “While I’d been enjoying our little challenge, having fun thinking up ways to make her fall in love with me, I hadn’t understood that it wouldn’t end well. And seeing her with that other dude, I realized she obviously wasn’t enjoying our little challenge as much as I’d been, and she definitely didn’t intend to budge, no matter what I did. So I decided to let it go. I decided to fall out of love with her and find a girl who loved me back.”

At this point, I understand what Devon’s trying to tell me, but I don’t interrupt him. We’ve never talked this much, and I want to hear the rest of his story.

“All of sophomore year, I tried,” he continues. “I stopped chasing after her and hoped my heart would follow suit. I started seeing these sad, questioning looks from her. She was confused, didn’t appear to get why I had given up on her. Every time I saw her sad face, my heart started beating louder, calling me an idiot, but I’d made my decision and was determined to go with it. For my own sake. Well, just before that miserable year ended, I was biking out in the hills when I suddenly saw Ava. She had a flat tire, and cell reception out there is close to zero. I was going to just leave her there, but when she said my name, I couldn’t.” He shakes his head, smiling faintly.

“She didn’t have a spare, so I put her on my bike and took her home. When we got there, she thanked me, but I just nodded, all awkward, and started to leave. But she called after me.” Devon brushes hair out of his face, his smile growing bigger. “She yelled, ‘Why do you hate me?’ I was shocked. I stopped and looked at her in disbelief. I was like, ‘Hate you? You’re the love of my life.’ Then it was her turn to be shocked. She whispered, ‘What?’ And it just made me feel annoyed. I was like, ‘What the fuck? I’ve been very clear about it since the first day of school.’ She was all surprised and was like, ‘I thought it was just a game.’ That made me so mad, because it had never been just a game for me. I told her, ‘A game? A fucking game? I put my fucking heart on the line! That was my heart, and you just trampled all over it.’ Then I just got on my bike and rode away. But I could hear her running after me, and that just made me pedal faster. Suddenly, she shouted, right in the middle of the street, ‘I love you, too, Devon!’ I stopped so abruptly I fell off my bike. So there I was, sitting on the ground, staring at her. She ran up to me with tears in her eyes and checked me for injuries. And I just couldn’t help it. I put my hands around her head and kissed her.” He laughs, but it sounds kind of pained, which makes sense, because the whole ordeal obviously hurt.

“Anyway, if you tell that story to anybody, I’ll have to kill you,” he says. Smiling, he holds out his fist.

I bump it, and as they smack together, I smile, too. “Wow.”

He nods. “You can’t fall out of love with the love of your life. And if she wasn’t so important to you, you wouldn’t feel so horrible.”

I hang my head, even though sparks are flying through my body. The love of my life? Is Mac the love of my life?