HEFTY

Jessa Kane

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Epilogue

1

Jill

I’m standing outside the school and everyone is crowded around talking about homecoming. Actually, it’s the only thing anyone talks about anymore.

In just over a week, we will embark on the biggest night of our lives.

So far.

Hair will be styled. Push-up bras will be worn. Pictures will be taken.

Couples who can’t make it to prom are planning to go all the way.

I haven’t been asked to the big dance yet.

Okay, technically, I have been avoiding anyone who might ask me, because there is only one person I want to go with. There is only one boy I’ve dreamed of picking me up in his truck, corsage in hand, ever since I was a little girl.

Zach O’Meara.

I almost melt down onto the steps of Juniper High School’s main building, wanting to sink into his name like a hot bubble bath. If I was home right now, I would probably be doodling his name in my notebook margins or staring at the eleven billion pictures we’ve taken together over the years.

See, Zach is my best friend, Harper’s, twin brother.

But it’s not one of those big, groundbreaking secrets that could ruin my friendship with Harper if she finds out I’ve been pining for her twin brother since we were children. No, my best friend is well aware that I would sacrifice a limb for one of Zach’s smiles. However, besides my mother, Harper is the only one in the world who knows about my mega crush—and she has been sworn to secrecy.

“You’re being obvious,” Harper mutters in my ear now, briefly breaking from the group discussion about who the quarterback is going to ask to homecoming. “I mean, you could at least pretend you’re interested in the conversation.”

“I am interested,” I insist, proving it by nodding at my closest classmate. “Everyone wants to know who Miguel is going to ask. But it’s also the same thing we’ve been discussing for a month.”

“Yeah, well. He hasn’t asked anyone yet. People are getting antsy.” Harper gives me a pointed look. “Have you been avoiding him?”

I wince. “Maybe a little.”

And by little, I mean I’ve been sneaking through campus in a hoodie and sunglasses and refusing to text Miguel back. Not to mention avoiding my locker like the plague.

“Jesus, Jill, you could do worse than the hottest guy in school.” She sighs. “You can’t keep waiting around for my brother to ask you.”

I’m still stuck on her claim that Miguel is the hottest guy in school. Yes, he’s attractive. Being the star quarterback doesn’t hurt. Every senior in our grade has some kind of fixation on him, whether it’s a crush or hero envy. But he’s not my type. Not at all.

Zach is my type.

Although, there is no one like him. So maybe that’s not the correct term.

Zach O’Meara is my person. My it. My dream man.

As if my mental swooning has drawn him forth, the man himself strides around the side of the building and everything stutters into slow motion. The conversation turns to static around me and my palms start to sweat. One might think I would be used to Zach’s effect on me by now. I’ve spent the night at his house hundreds of times. He was there when I got my first period at Harper’s thirteenth birthday party, sitting with me while I sobbed on the stairs, rubbing my back with one hand, Googling what to do with the other. He carried me off the field freshman year when I sprained my ankle cheerleading during a football game.

He’s been my hero since I can remember.

But he couldn’t be less interested in me romantically.

I’m just his sister’s friend. Nothing more.

He’s almost reached the group now and I’m trying not to stare, but failing. Miserably.

Looks-wise, Zach is the opposite of Miguel.

Where Miguel is all lithe muscles, trim frame and boyish good looks, Zach is a big, beautiful bear of a man. He’s not soft and cuddly, though. He plays defensive lineman on the football team and no one gets through him. Strapping doesn’t begin to describe him, either. He is muscular, thick, impenetrable. Hefty. Just brushing six foot three. He carries extra weight and the way it is distributed literally keeps me awake at night. Just daydreaming of those generous thighs and the hard mound of his stomach pinning me down.

I’d never get away.

I’d never want to.

“Hey, Harps,” Zach rumbles when he reaches us, his green eyes ticking from his sister over to me. “Jilly Beans.”

“Oh hey, Zach,” I breathe, twisting my long blonde hair around my finger.

Oh God, stop doing that.

He’s going to know you’re in love with him.

“How was practice?” I blurt, lovingly tracing his blunt, grass-stained fingers with my eyes. “All set for the East Hills game tomorrow?”

He nods once. “Yeah.”

Did I mention Zach is a man of few words?

It’s just another thing I love about him. He doesn’t waste his breath unless what he’s saying is truly important. Necessary. Meanwhile I’m a total rambler. That’s probably why he never hangs out for very long anymore when I come over. He’s escaping.

“Everyone is still talking about who is going to ask who to the homecoming dance,” I say to him, despite my self-directed command not to word vomit in front of Zach. “Heavy speculation on the wrestling team going in one big bro herd. Their girlfriends are not pleased. They might even ask other guys, so extra chaperones have been hired in case homecoming turns into like, one big, jealousy-fueled wrestle match for honor? Have you…what about you? Are you going? Have you asked anyone?” I suck down oxygen at the end of all that because I have once again forgotten to breathe.

It’s the Zach Effect.

How come the other girls seem immune?

Don’t they have eyes?

“I’m skipping it,” Zach says, still watching me closely. Probably because I’m pale from lack of oxygen. “Have you been asked yet?”

I laugh and playfully bat his perfect, perfect arm. “Your question implies that I will definitely be asked.”

“Yeah, I know. You will.”

“Will I?”

His dark brows draw together slightly. And Zach is so stoic, that shift of his features is the equivalent of him looking at me like I’m insane.

“I mean…” I adjust my backpack and he automatically takes it from me, throwing it over his giant shoulder. “Thank you. Um. There might be a-a few people who could potentially ask, but I don’t know. Maybe I’ll skip it, too.”

Those brows draw a fraction of a centimeter closer together. “You’re the head cheerleader. Of course you’re going to the homecoming dance.”

Ask me. Ask me, please.

I’ll never wish for anything ever again.

I shrug, casually. As if my whole world isn’t hanging in the balance. “It’s not like the squad is performing at the dance. It’s not mandatory.”

“You know what I mean. You’re…”

Silly.

Frivolous.

Girly.

The kind of chick who has been planning her ensemble since middle school.

Ugh. I totally am all of those things, aren’t I?

Zach would probably rather gnaw his legs off than have to listen to me all night. He’s not just the best defensive lineman in the county, he’s also super smart. Studious. I’m a B student with good hair who luckily happens to have a flawless toe touch. Zach has never had a girlfriend, but if he did, I bet they would go to an art exhibit on the night of homecoming and never give all the pomp and circumstance a second thought. Zach is meant for amazing things. Things way beyond high school glory.

Maybe he recognizes that I’m not?

I have to work really hard for those Bs. Especially in math.

I’m only the head cheerleader for one more year…and then what?

Whatever Zach was going to say is interrupted when Harper slides her arm through mine. “Ready to go, Z-man?”

He stares at me for another couple seconds, then grunts.

Turns and stalks toward the parking lot.

Harper snickers at her brother’s back and hauls me along, though my legs feel like they’re stuck in mud. If Zach was ever going to ask me, I just gave him a huge opening and he didn’t walk through it. Time to face facts. I’m not going to homecoming with Zach O’Meara. And that means…I’m not going to homecoming at all. Maybe it’s dramatic, but I don’t want to sacrifice my dream or substitute it in my head for something else. I’m sure I’ll find somewhere to wear my strapless emerald green gown. Like a ball. Or a costume party.

Harper hips bumps me. “Chin up, Harding.”

“It’s up,” I say, forcing a smile.

We pile into the front cab of Zach’s truck, Harper in the middle, me crammed up against the passenger door. On the ride home, I pretend to stare out the window at the farmland spread out for miles, but I’m busy inhaling his scent of oatmeal soap and fresh grass.

As has been our routine since Zach got his driver’s license and used five years of paper route money to buy this truck, I’m dropped off outside of my house first.

“See you tomorrow, Harps,” I say, as cheerfully as possible, though for some reason Zach is frowning at me from the driver’s seat. “Night, Zach.”

He makes a sound in his throat.

“I’ll text you,” Harper sings, scrolling through her phone.

I wait for Zach to give me his speech. The same one he gives me every time he drops me off. The one that makes me feel safe and cared for, even if he’s just being polite.

“Lock the door,” he says. “Stay inside until your parents get home.”

My heart lifts. “’kay.”

I close the passenger door and jog up the driveway, kneeling down on the porch to take the key from my backpack, before letting myself in. When I have a foot over the threshold, the truck still doesn’t pull away. He always waits until I’m inside with the door closed.

Just being polite.

2

Zach

I could pick her voice out of a million others.

It’s with me now on the field as she cheers from the sideline.

It’s with me in my sleep.

Jill Harding.

The girl who has always owned my heart.

I struggle not to glance over at her now, to make sure she’s all right. I have a hard time concentrating at away games because I don’t like Jill being in unfamiliar—and often hostile—territory. And I can’t be in two places at once. If I had my pick, I would walk off the field right now and find a discreet but nearby place to stand and look out for her. But I don’t have a choice. Not really. Because what would that look like? The ugly, hulking linebacker stalking the sweet, gorgeous little cheer captain. I’d embarrass her. Hell, I’d embarrass myself.

It doesn’t help my mood that my teammates were talking about her in the locker room. Wondering out loud why the prettiest girl in school doesn’t have a homecoming date yet. They reached the conclusion I reached weeks ago—Jill is waiting for Miguel to ask her. And that makes sense, doesn’t it? The head cheerleader going to the dance with the quarterback.

The offensive lineman directly across from me blanches, the color leeching from his face and I realize I must look deranged, biting down on my mouthpiece hard enough to cut through the rubber, my fingers digging into the sod.

My coach and teammates think I’m ruthless by nature. I’m not.

I’m only on this team so I can keep an eye on Jill without being obvious.

But then I have these moments, these bursts of frustration and they translate into me making the all-county team three years running. It might be kind of funny if it wasn’t so tragic. The lineman mooning over the girl who is light years out of his fucking league, spending hours practicing and attending games, just so nobody tries to mess with her on the bus rides.

The ball gets snapped and I plow through their lineman, diving for the quarterback and wrapping an arm around his waist, dragging him down to the ground. Our cheering section is still huge at away games and they go crazy now, but all I hear is her voice.

Go, Zach! Oh my God! That’s his third sack!

They launch into a cheer and I chance a look over at the sidelines while we wait for the offense to finish their huddle. There she is. The girl who is a terrible singer, sleeps in a fluffy pink eye mask and dressed up as Judge Judy three Halloweens in a row. The girl who is kind to everyone, even the people who hate her on sight because they assume she’s a cliché. She’s not. She is goofy, she always supports an underdog and will pick up bugs and spiders with her bare hands. When my grandmother passed away, she came over and cooked for our family for two weeks. And she burned most of it, but I savored every bite. Damn, she’s so beautiful. My fucking heart can barely keep up with the beats required to be this close to her.

We win the game.

Afterward, I head for the bus, but I don’t see Jill. Not even in the group of cheerleaders. Her blonde hair tied up in its red, game night bow is nowhere to be found and I panic. Acid spears up into my chest and sounds are tinny, the ground seems to expand and contract under my feet. What if she wandered into the rival stands and they hurt her?

I throw my helmet down on the ground. Ignoring the questioning looks from my teammates, I dig through the pocket of my sweatshirt for my phone. Not wanting to freak her out or show my hand, I rarely call her unless it’s an emergency, but she should be here. She should be here and she’s not.

Her voice in my ear stops my pulse and restarts it. “Hey, Zach.”

I take several centering breaths and I still sound like I’m being strangled. She sounds okay. Doesn’t sound hurt. Calm down. “Where are you?”

“Oh, I hopped on the bus already.” My eyes tick to the row of windows. There she is, her giant bow peeking over the sill of the very last one. She pinkie waves at me. “Hi.”

Absently, I hear Miguel asking the group of cheerleaders if they’ve seen Jill and my hand squeezes around the phone until it creaks. He’s going to ask her to homecoming. I’ve seen it coming. But the closer the day gets, the harder it gets for me not to deck the motherfucker. And the worst part is, he’s a pretty nice guy. I’d even let my sister date him. But him with Jill? Agonizing. “Why are you on the bus early? Was someone bothering you?”

“No. No, not at all. I, um…wanted to finish up this podcast. It’s about the mating habits of the Atlantic walrus. Fascinating stuff.”

My mouth threatens a smile.

That’s another thing about Jill. I might have been studying her for years. I might know her better than anyone. And I still never know what is going to come out of her mouth.

“Do you…” Her breath strokes my ear. “Do you want to be an early bird with me?”

Do I want to cram my enormous, sweaty body into a seat with her sweet-smelling, perfectly formed one? Yes, and no. Yes, because being with her is when I’m happiest. No, because won’t I repulse her? I’m not exactly at my freshest right now. And I’m always like a mountain in comparison to her. “You don’t want to sit with your friends?”

“You are my friend.” There’s a pause. “I-I mean…aren’t you?”

“Of course I am,” I say gruffly.

Maybe not such a great one, though. Since I’ve been beating off to her relentlessly since eighth grade and spend a sick amount of time wondering what it would be like to slide my tongue through the softness of her pussy. Sitting next to her will be a cross between paradise and hell, but I can’t stand the thought of her questioning our friendship, so I stow my gear in the open luggage compartment and lumber onto the bus. My bulk hits every seat on my way to the rear of the vehicle and heat climbs my neck. But I forget everything and just try to breathe when I reach the final seat and there’s Jill, waiting for me with her sunshine smile.

“Great game,” Jill says, smoothing her cheerleading skirt.

I sit down beside her and try not to take up every inch of available space. “Thanks, Jilly Beans.” Our thighs press together and my dick turns rock hard, making it necessary to tug my jersey down to cover the growing bulge in my football pants. Breathe. “How was it on the sidelines?”

“Oh, you know.” She forces a laugh. “The usual.”

“No, I don’t know. What’s the usual?”

She makes a wishy-washy sound and I study the play of shadow and light on her beautiful face. “Some of the students do the chants, some of them just mock us.”

Something hardens in my throat. “This is the first I’m hearing of this.”

“It’s not a big deal. They probably just think…I don’t know. Because we’re cheerleaders and considered popular that we’re immune to criticism. Or we need to be taken down a peg.” She shrugs a shoulder. “It doesn’t matter to me. I don’t do it for them.”

“Who do you do it for?”

“You.” Twin spots appear on her cheeks. “I-I mean the team.”

Mainly the quarterback? I swallow that uncomfortable thought. “If anyone says something out of line, I want to know about it.”

She nods. “Okay.”

My teammates start to board the bus, followed by the laughing cheerleaders and coaches. Is it my imagination or does Jill sink down farther into the seat? Does she not want to be seen sitting next to me? “I can move,” I offer.

“Why?” She wets her lips. “Am I talking too much?”

“What?” I chuckle over her question. “No.”

Her shoulders relax. “Then…stay?”

If she asked me to ride home on the roof, I would do it. “All right.”

We both settle back against the seat and I go back to praying she doesn’t notice my hard-on. It’s a familiar position, but it never gets easier. I used to sit in the living room with Jill and Harper on the weekends during their movie marathons. Can’t do it now, though. Not with the way Jill sprawls out on the couch, always dressed in itty bitty shorts or leggings that leave nothing to the imagination. Now, whenever she’s in my house, I spend most of the time jerking off to the sound of her giggle drifting through my bedroom door.

If Jill knew the thoughts I’ve had, she definitely wouldn’t want to sit beside me.

She’d probably never set foot in my house again.

I’m distracted by a smattering of cheers and glance up toward the front of the bus where our kicker is hugging one of the cheerleaders in the aisle.

“He must have asked her to homecoming,” Jill murmurs, smiling. “That’s sweet.”

I grunt. “Is that how you’d like to be asked? On the bus?”

“I hadn’t thought of it.” She rakes her palms up and down her thighs. “It’s a lot of pressure, isn’t it? Going to the dance with someone. All those expectations…”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…” She adjusts her bow nervously. “Sex. It’s all people seem to talk about lately, isn’t it? Who is doing it. Where. When. Why people haven’t done it yet.”

Barbed wire coils in my belly, sharp and dangerous. “Is someone pressuring you for sex?”

Her eyes shoot wide. “Me? No!” She seems to gather her thoughts. “But…everyone feels a little bit of pressure, don’t they? We’re eighteen now. We’re almost expected to be…exploring.”

It takes me a moment for the tension to ebb from my gut. If someone had been pressuring her for anything, I would have beat the stuffing out of them. And that would have only been the beginning. Thankfully that doesn’t seem to be the case. Not entirely, anyway.

“Hey, Jilly Beans.” I tip her chin up to make sure I have her attention. “You don’t have to do a damn thing until you’re ready.”

“What if I am ready?” she whispers, sounding out of breath. “For sex.”

Christ. My cock throbs, producing moisture at the tip. I have to grit my teeth. But at the same time, my heart is breaking. How long until I have to watch her with another guy? She’s always been blessedly single. Look at her, though. She’s fucking gorgeous. Throw in her sense of humor, quirks and sweet personality and she’s irresistible. How long did I reasonably expect her to be alone? How is she alone at all? “I don’t know, Jill,” I say quietly.

“It would have to be someone I trust.”

“Yeah,” I say hoarsely.

She looks up at me through her eyelashes. “The thing is, you’re the only guy I trust.”

It takes me a moment to decipher the words that come out of Jill’s mouth. Mostly because I can’t fathom she means what she’s saying. Maybe I’ve been fantasizing about her for so long, my brain is starting to send mixed signals around the real life girl? I know she’s not interested in me sexually. That would be insane. Wouldn’t it? Keep dreaming.

But then she touches me.

Her fingertips trail up the center of my chest. “What about you, Zach? Have you ever thought about…exploring? With someone you trust?”

My balls squeeze up into my stomach and I briefly see double. This isn’t real. Jill can’t be asking me to hook up. I must be dreaming. “Are you fucking with me right now?”

Hurt flashes in her eyes. “No.” She starts to take her hand back, the color deepening on her cheeks. “Maybe you don’t trust me.”

I snare her wrist.

And in doing so, I accidentally let go of the hem of my shirt.

Her eyes dart to my lap. Of course they do. My embarrassingly large dick is stretching the nylon crotch of my football pants so thin, you can make out the veins, the ridges, the spot of semen I couldn’t hold back.

I expect her to be horrified. She should be horrified. This guy she’s supposed to trust, this guy she innocently invited to sit beside her, has been aroused the whole time.

Never in a million years do I expect her to touch it.

“Zach,” she breathes, squeezing my cock in her little hand, sliding her palm up and down the thick ridge. Fondling me. “Y-you do want to…to experiment with me?”

There’s a wet sponge stuck in my throat, so all I can do is nod.

She’s not just an angel. She’s a saint. I can’t believe she’d even think about doing this for me. Does she have any clue I’ve been sick with hunger over her since puberty?

I’ve spent so long trying to subdue my lust for Jill, the sudden unfettered onslaught of it threatens to wipe my mind clean. But my first instinct is always to protect her, so I turn my body slightly, blocking her from view of anyone who might venture to the back of the bus. I reach down and blindly pull a sweatshirt from her cheerleading bag, positioning it over my lap and she strokes me underneath it, her hand working me through the nylon. And I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t fucking believe it.

Eyes glassy, she leans up and whispers in my ear. “Can I put my hand inside your pants?”

Oh my God.

“Yes,” I choke out. “But I’m going to…I-I’m going to…”

“Come?” she breathes, delving her hand inside the nylon and gripping my bare shaft.

My head falls back against the seat, my jaw tightened to the point of pain. Jill’s hand is on my cock. She’s touching my cock. Stroking it top to bottom, her breaths pelting my neck. I know there is something I should be doing here, but I’m totally immobile, at the mercy of her warm, curious fingertips, the way she tests different speeds, different pressures. I look down and watch her slender forearm move, the sweatshirt lifting up and down in my lap with every stroke. Oh my God, I’ve got about ten seconds left, but I bear down and try to hold on. This might never happen again. All I’ll have is this memory of the time she caught me with an erection and had pity on me.

“Does it feel good?” she asks against my shoulder.

“So good,” I say in a burst, sweating breaking out on my forehead. “Ahh baby. Faster.”

“Baby,” she echoes dreamily, beating me off quicker, quicker, precome greasing her palm. “Can you kiss me while I’m touching you?”

That’s what I’m supposed to be doing.

At least, that’s what my instinct tells me. I probably haven’t tried to kiss her, because the whole possibility of her wanting my lips on hers has always seemed unfathomable. But with my balls growing tighter, fuller, and the impossible already taking place, I turn my head, dip down and seal our mouths together. She whimpers in her throat, her hand briefly pausing on my cock, before continuing with her perfect, perfect pumps.

Swear to God, there’s nothing softer than her mouth. I can’t deal with it. I can’t deal with her mouth and her curious tongue while she’s jacking me off. It’s too much good at once and my head spins, my muscles growing taut.

“Your hand is so soft,” I grit out.

My first hand job. Her first, too.

Both of our first kiss.

And we don’t waste time trying to determine the correct technique. Maybe I would have if I wasn’t seconds from spilling everywhere. But I am. God, I am. So the kiss is wet and frantic, our lips parting on unsteady inhales, her innocent tongue branding mine. Lapping at it, little sobs breaking from her throat. I’m shocked to my fucking bones how bad she seems to want it, her lips parting so wide for me, as if inviting me to take everything she is.

To make her mine.

What if she parts her thighs as wide as her lips?

What if she opens them for me, right here on the back of the bus?

As soon as I’m picturing her cheerleading skirt hiked up, her pussy out in the open, invitation in her eyes, the come erupts from the head of my cock. Fuckohfuckohfuck.

I have to tear my mouth away from her sweet, beautiful one and throw my back up against the seat, hips rolling into her grip, doing everything I can to keep from moaning. “I’m sorry,” I bite out. “I c-can’t stop…”

“I don’t want you to,” she whispers.

Her eyes are arrested on my face, excited. She isn’t grossed out by the sticky moisture I’m spurting into her hand, the sheer abundance of it. No, she seems to be almost proud of herself. And it makes me come harder. Longer. Until my well has finally been pumped dry.

We’re both breathing hard, her eyes bright, my lids at half mast.

I have to say something, but I have no idea what. Thank you would be a start. But I’m so worried I’ll follow it up with I worship you, I love everything about you, I hesitate—

And then the bus groans to a stop in our school parking lot.

I didn’t even know we were moving.

In front of us, football players start standing and I quickly fix my pants, watching as Jill propels herself into motion, wiping her hand on the sweatshirt, balling it up and stuffing it into her bag. Is she smiling? It looks like it, but she ducks her head and I can’t see.

It’s probably just wishful thinking.

As soon as everyone in the seats in front of us have cleared out, I stand and gesture for her to precede me into the aisle. Yeah, I’m a real gentleman. I’ve just let this virgin beat me off on the back of the bus where anyone could have seen. I would have gotten high fived over it, while she would have been ridiculed. But at least I let her walk in front of me, right?

You’re supposed to be better than this, asshole.

“Thanks,” she says, brushing past me, bag slung over her shoulder.

That’s when I notice her nipples are hard against her cheerleading top.

There are goosebumps on her arms, her thighs. She’s trembling.

Jill is turned on—by me. Which is shocking enough. But the fact that I’ve done nothing for her, nothing to satisfy her, hits me like a ton of bricks. Jesus, am I really so selfish? I have to fix this. Now. “Jilly Beans, I—”

“Jill!” one of the cheerleaders calls from the front of the bus. “Come on, I’m starving.”

“Oh, that’s right,” she mutters to herself, before turning back to me. “The squad is going to the diner. I forgot.”

Normally I would drive her home. I always drive her home. It’s my job.

But hell, maybe she wants to get away from the selfish asshole who was too overcome with lust to return the favor she paid him. “Right,” I say, clearing my throat hard. God, I can’t even look at her, I’m so ashamed of myself. Tonight might have been my one and only chance to touch Jill and I fucking blew it. “Will you just…text me to let me know when you’re home safe?”

I chance a look up and find her eyes sparkling. “Yes.”

“Inside with the door locked.”

“I know, Zach.” She turns to leave, but stops and looks back at me. “Um. I’m spending the night at your house tomorrow night. A few of us girls are.” She chews her lip, appearing to work up some courage. The toes of her white sneakers are climbing over each other, her body shifting side to side. “Maybe we can do m-more…exploring?”

Jesus.

Is this for real?

Yeah, I think it is. I think Jill is curious about sex and like she said, I’m the only one she trusts. I’m the guy she’s chosen to experiment with. And I need to remember that Jill wanting to learn about her sexual urges safely doesn’t mean she has feelings for me.

Not like the obsessive ones I have for her.

There is a very real chance that getting physical with Jill could make it harder when she moves on someday. When she finds someone perfect like her.

I’m just here for practice.

But I can’t say no. I’m not that strong. I’m already hard again just thinking of her using me to get off. Using me over and over and over again. Like her personal servant.

“I’ll be exploring you next time, Jill,” I say hoarsely.

Her kiss-swollen lips puff open, a tremble passing through her. God, look at her. She’s horny we hell. She’s a horny girl and I get to service her needs. Maybe she doesn’t want me to be her boyfriend or anything public, but a guy like me getting this lucky happens once in a lifetime. So while my heart might ache like a fishing hook is stuck in the side, there is no way I’ll complain.

“See you tomorrow night, Zach.” She turns on a heel, her blonde ponytail swinging behind her. “I’ll text you later.”

And she does. At eleven oh-nine.

Home safe. xo

I groan at those two little letters—xo—and roll over onto my stomach, pumping roughly into my fist with my open mouth pressed to the screen of my phone.

3

Jill

There are always a few flutters in my belly when I’m at Harper’s house. After all, the potential always exists for a Zach sighting. But this time? It’s different. Ringing the doorbell, I feel like I’m going to hyperventilate.

Who was that girl on the bus last night?

She was bold. She asked for what she wanted.

Maybe it had something to do with the darkness on the bus. The seclusion of the back row. Or maybe I was just mega horned up after watching Zach mow through boys half his size.

I don’t know, but I’m almost afraid I dreamed the whole thing.

All my fantasies have to be reimagined. He surpassed them all. I can still feel the taste of his kiss on my lips and I’ve been licking them all day. The size and shape of his sex is branded on my palm and those sounds he made when he came. I get goose bumps every time I think about them. How he pushed his hips up off the seat, into my grip. How he called me “baby.”

Oh God, what if he regrets it?

What if he hides out in his room all night and I’ve sprayed body mist on my underwear and bra for nothing? And if he doesn’t avoid me, what is going to happen?

What could happen?

I shocked myself last night by performing an adequate hand job. But I have no idea what is waiting on the next base or if we’re playing by the rules at all. All I know is that I am craving his closeness so badly, my throat hurts. I miss him. I always miss him, but this time it’s more intense. Acutely physical. We didn’t have time for him to touch me last night and there’s a lingering ache between my thighs that seems to pulse in his name.

Harper opens the door with a smile, but her expression quickly turns to puzzlement.

“Why are you bright pink?”

“It’s hot out here,” I say too quickly.

“It’s October,” she points out.

“Oh, just let me in,” I sniff, breezing my way into the house I’ve considered a second home since I was a kid. “I got here early, because I need to talk to you.”

“Oh yeah?” Harper closes the door behind me and we head for the kitchen, as usual, because that’s where the snacks are located. There are party sized bags of Doritos and a carton of donuts on the kitchen table, all ready for the group of five girls coming over tonight for the sleepover. “Did Miguel finally ask you to homecoming?”

“What?” I shake my head. “No. It’s about…”

I point in the general direction of Zach’s bedroom.

Harper tilts her head with interest. “What about him?”

I’m nervous now that the moment has arrived to confess what happened on the bus to Harper. But I didn’t even consider not telling her. We’re best friends. We tell each other everything and this is no exception. Also I’ve had a crush on Zach for so long that she stopped being grossed out by it a long time ago. “We kissed,” I whisper. “On the bus last night.”

Her eyes double in size. “What?” she mouths.

“I know!” I mouth back.

She falls back against the kitchen counter. “Holy shit. What now?”

“I don’t know. It was spur of the moment.” I dance nervously on the balls of my feet. “Maybe he just wants to hook up a couple of times?”

“You know I have no clue how he feels. About anything except lasagna and the Cubs. Zach is a locked safe.”

I nod. “I don’t know how he feels, either. But I wanted to make sure you knew what happened. I wouldn’t keep anything like this from you, Harps.”

“Of course you wouldn’t.” She purses her lips, a twinkle lighting in her eye. “And it’s a good thing you told me, so I can cover for you if you go sneaking around later.”

“My face is pink again, isn’t it?”

She laughs. “Magenta.”

Half and hour later, the other girls start to arrive. It’s a mixture of the cheerleading squad and Harper’s friends from the student council. There has still been no sign of Zach, but before I know it, my nerves have dissipated and we’re all sitting in a circle on the den floor gossiping, laughing, passing around chocolate. Of course, everyone is still talking about homecoming. Dinner plans, limousine seating arrangements, after parties.

I never forget that Zach is in the house, not even close, but a shock of delight still runs down my spine when I hear his footsteps creaking down the hallway. My fingers curl into the hem of my shorts and I have to work to keep my breathing even.

He barely even glances into the den when he walks by, but his gaze meets mine for a split second and I almost melt into the floor. God, I love him in those black sweatpants. That tight gray T-shirt with the faded school logo on front. All that cotton molded to his bulk like a loving second skin.

Not for the first time, I’m shocked that none of the other girls are actively drooling over him. Or craning their necks to see where he’s gone. How are they so blind to his perfection? His incredible body and impressive mind? His quiet kindness and maturity?

I stand up. “Does anyone need a soda?”

Harper looks at me knowingly. “I’m good.”

Everyone else declines, too, launching back into the discussion about eye shadow palettes and I head for the kitchen where I can hear Zach getting ice out of the refrigerator. The muscles in his back tighten when I walk inside, but he takes his time turning around. Ever since last night, I’ve been wondering if things are going to be different between us—and I can see now that they are. For one, Zach rarely lets his attention drop below my neck.

Tonight, he can’t seem to stop himself.

He sips his drink, his eyes meandering down over the front of me, cataloguing my black spandex cheerleading shorts and the pink belly T-shirt. No bra. My mother never would have let me leave the house dressed like this if she’d seen me, but she’s on shift tonight at the hospital. Maybe it is a little on the risqué side, but…I’m so scared of last night being a one-time thing and I want him to find me tempting and irresistible. Does that make me terrible? I mean, we’re going to college at the end of this year. What if he goes to some Ivy League school two thousand miles away and this is my only chance to experience him?

His voice scrapes out. “Hey Jilly Beans.”

“Hey Zach.”

That big chest of his expands. “You having fun at the sleepover?”

“Uh-huh.” I fuss with my ponytail. “I just came in here to get a soda.”

“Oh.” He ducks his head and steps away from the fridge. “Sorry, I didn’t realize I was in your way.”

“I lied,” I blurt. “I came in here to see you.”

The gutsy girl from last night is back! And not a moment too soon.

Zach tucks his tongue into his cheek to temper a smile. “Came in here to see you, too.”

My heart sprouts wings. “You did?” I breathe wistfully.

He grunts, rubs at the back of his neck.

“You keep to yourself when I’m over at your house these days,” I say, chancing a step in his direction. “You almost never come out of your room.”

He considers me with those soulful green eyes. “Come on, Jilly Beans. All those guys panting after you at school…I didn’t want you to think I was one of them. Breathing down your neck when you’re trying to hang out with my sister. You deserve a break.”

“But…what?” I jog back through everything he just said, landing on all the confusing parts. “Guys don’t pant after me.”

That earns me a rare Zach laugh. “Oh yes, they do. I’ve had to…”

“You’ve had to what?”

The tips of his ears are turning red. “It’s nothing. I just…suggested they stop talking about certain parts of your anatomy. If they want to live.”

I start to ask which parts of my anatomy they referred to, then decide I don’t want to know. Besides, I’m more interested in the fact that Zach has been defending my honor behind the scenes. Could that possibly mean anything? Or is he just being the honorable boy he’s always been? “I didn’t know you were doing that for me. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. Just…” He swallows, his gaze resting on my pebbled nipples. “Please don’t wear that to school. Or I’ll get expelled.”

“I won’t,” I whisper, his protectiveness causing heat to tickle my inner thighs. “And Zach, I like hanging out with you. A lot. You wouldn’t be breathing down my neck. How could you ever think I would put you in a category with anyone else? Let alone the guys at school.”

He doesn’t seem to know how to respond to that, just regarding me steadily.

Slowly, I walk toward him until we’re only a few inches apart.

Then I gather up my courage and smooth a hand up his chest.

Zach exhales roughly and tugs down the hem of his shirt, the way he did last night on the bus with his jersey. And with growing relief and excitement, I realize he has an erection. For me. It gives me the bravery to murmur, “Do you like hanging out with me, Zach?”

He swallows hard. “Obviously a little too much.”

I push up on my tiptoes and whisper in his ear, “Nothing little about it.”

“Jill,” he rasps, eyelids at half-mast. “God, baby. You’re making it hurt.”

“I’m sorry.” I drop back onto flat feet. “I don’t want that. I want the opposite.”

“I didn’t mean…” He shakes his head, steps toward me. “My pain isn’t your responsibility. Understand?”

“Yes.”

He drops his gaze to our feet, red riding the tips of his ears again. “But if you still want to…explore, I would be grateful to be the one who does it with you.”

I almost catapult into a back handspring. “Yes, please.”

Zach seems a little surprised by my quick agreement, but slowly recovers. “I have a few rules, though. To protect you.”

Of course he does, this knight in shining armor. “What are they?”

Those green eyes travel over my mouth and he takes a deep breath. “If you want to stop, you have to tell me. You’re a people pleaser, Jill. But I would want to die if you did anything you weren’t comfortable with, just because I’m…enjoying it.”

He whispers the word enjoying and it causes wetness to spread in my panties.

Because I remember his face when he’s enjoying something. If I could commission a painting of it, I would. I would hang it over my bed and stare at it endlessly.

“I promise. I’ll tell you if I want to stop.”

“Good.” A line forms between his dark eyebrows and he gestures between us. “Second rule. This is just our secret, okay?”

My heart sinks.

He doesn’t want people knowing he’s hooking up with the flighty, motormouth cheerleader. Is that it? I should ask him, but I’m afraid of the answer.

Besides, he doesn’t have to share his reasons with me. If he doesn’t want the school to know about our relationship, that’s his right. I guess I’m just a little surprised he would cause the little crack in my chest when he’s always been my protector.

That’s right. He has been. My one hundred percent reliable guardian. My chauffeur and friend, too. So I will give him this, no questions asked.

“Okay, Zach. Our secret.” I force myself to smile. “What is the last one?”

“I have a feeling I’m going to regret this.” His eyes close briefly. “But no sex. No…fucking. We stop before it gets that far.”

My lady parts clench in protest. “What? Why?”

His jaw flexes. “Those are the rules, Jilly Beans.” He studies my face intently, his brows going up after a moment. “Amazing. You really want to fight me on the no fucking rule?”

Jesus, Jill. He’s going to think you’re in heat. “N-no, I guess the rule is reasonable.” I shift on my bare feet. “Maybe you want to save yourself for someone you love—”

His humorless laugh cuts me off. “Wrong. I want you to save yourself for someone you love.” He adds quietly, “Okay, maybe I don’t want that. But it’s…the right thing to do.”

If there was ever a moment to tell Zach that I’ve loved him for a decade, maybe longer, this is definitely it. But what if I scare the crap out of him? What if I lose my chance to be near him at all? If he retreats from me now and goes back to hiding in his room, it’ll kill me.

Ignoring the expanding crack in my chest, I nod. “I’ll meet you at your bedroom window in five.”

4

Zach

Five minutes?

I look around my room, at the yearbook on my bed, opened to her junior year photo. At the pictures of her taped to my mirror. At the box holding the various articles of clothing she’s left at our house over the years—including a pink bikini I’ve had to launder hundreds of times because I can’t stop jacking myself off with it. I only have five minutes to hide my infatuation with her? Isn’t it written on every inch of my walls? Won’t she walk in here and realize it?

With a curse, I propel myself into motion, hiding everything I can in my closet. I pick up my dirty laundry and shove it into my laundry basket. I sniff my sheets, thanking God I changed them only two days ago. And all the while, I’m replaying her reaction to the rules.

They weren’t what I was expecting.

She seemed almost sad about the second two rules, but that doesn’t make any sense. There is no way in hell she’d want the school knowing about us hooking up. They would laugh at Jill for picking me, the hulking linebacker, when she could literally have any guy she wants. And I won’t have her laughed at. I refuse to be the reason for that.

Jill picked me to explore her urges because she trusts me. No other reason.

As the guy she trusts, I’ll protect her the best way I know how.

And I’ll try not to think of the fact that she wanted to fuck me.

Yeah right. It’s all I can think about.

Jesus. I sit down on the edge of my bed and spear my fingers through my hair. She wants me to put my cock inside of her? Take her virginity? It’s everything I’ve been fantasizing about for years, but…guys like me don’t end up with girls like Jill. If we have sex, I don’t think I’ll be able to stand seeing her with anyone else. I know I won’t. I’ll have to move to Spain after graduation and never return.

She’d regret it, too.

Once she’s more sexually confident and is ready to go date guys in her league, she’ll wish she didn’t give it up to the bulky giant who just happened to be convenient.

The knock on the window has my thoughts evaporating like invisible ink.

There’s only Jill, outlined in the sunset, smiling at me from the backyard.

I get to my feet and go open the window, reaching a hand down to help her climb in, which she does gracefully, like she does everything else. And then she’s in my room for the first time. And for once, she’s not a fantasy I’ve conjured in my head. She’s really here.

“How did you make your escape?”

Her interested gaze dances around the room, landing on everything in seconds. “I told them I forgot my toothbrush and I’m running home to grab it. That should give us…an hour tops. If I tell them I got sidetracked at home.”

“An hour,” I rasp, uselessly. “That’s good.”

A little giggle sneaks out of her. “Yeah.”

Jill starts to continue, but something on my desk catches her attention. “Oh, are those your college applications?” She steps around me and pauses. Everything inside me pauses, too. Fuck. Why didn’t I put them in my closet with everything else? There they are, lined up carefully, the colorful college logos on display. “Those are the the same three schools I applied to, Zach.”

I close my eyes. “They are?”

Of course they are. Because I’m a glutton for punishment. I will absolutely follow Jill to college and protect her from the shadows, even if it means watching her meet other guys. I don’t have any other way of existing. I exist to guard her and love her. That’s what I do.

She turns to face me again and I brace myself. She’s figured out that I’m obsessed with her and she’s about to freak. “But…you could go to a better school. You’re so smart.” She sputters a little. “You’re an honors student. A star athlete. You could go to Harvard or Yale if you want.”

With a frown, I point at the applications. “Those are good schools, too.”

“They’re decent at best. They’re for people like me.”

Suddenly, this belief that I know everything about Jill is no longer true and it panics me. I’m supposed to know her, inside and out. “People like you. What does that mean?”

She waves it off. “Nothing.”

“Tell me.”

“Mediocre. Okay?” She laughs a little too brightly. “Like my mom always says, college is just a formality for the head cheerleader. She’ll eventually just move home and marry the prom king and have babies.”

There’s a sharp jab and twist in my chest. “That’s some bullshit, Jillian Harding.”

Her mouth drops open at my use of her full name.

“You get to decide what your future looks like. People who don’t do amazing in high school go on to do great things. All the damn time. And so will you.” I storm toward her, pissed as hell about the garbage she’s been fed without me knowing. Without me fixing it. “You are kind and intelligent and sweet and creative. The fact that you’re hot and men will fall all over themselves to lock you down…that is not the most important thing about you.”

Jill blinks up at me. Sucks in a stuttered breath.

And launches herself at me.

When her soft, sexy body presses to mine, my thoughts swerve and spill out onto the road. We should keep talking, keep fixing this problem, but her wrists lock behind my neck and she presses up, up onto her toes, locking our mouths together—and I’m fucked. My hands go to her hips automatically, tracing their shape, replacing reality with my endless well of fantasies. She lets me put my tongue in her mouth, she even whimpers at the smooth friction of them rubbing together, her little tits pushing up against my chest.

Jill breaks the kiss and we’re both breathing hard already, my cock jutting out, seeking relief. Her eyes go glassy when she feels it, biting her lip and teasing it with her tummy. “Maybe being hot isn’t the most important thing about me.” She trails a hand down, over the thick mound of my stomach and cradles my cock, stroking it lightly. “But…it’s the reason this is so hard right now. Isn’t it?”

No.

No, that’s not right.

It’s every part of her, rolled into one, that makes me hard. Not just her body.

But when I open my mouth to tell her that, she interrupts.

“I was thinking about what you said. About guys talking about parts of my anatomy…”

A growl curls my lip. It’s out before I can stop it. “I put them in line for you, baby.”

“I know.” She leans her body against mine, urging me backwards, and while she doesn’t have the strength to move me, I let her. Let her walk me back until I have to sit down on the bed, leaving her standing between the V of my thighs. “I know you set them straight. But I can’t help but wonder which parts of me they were talking about.” Slowly, she peels off her tank top and I’m rendered speechless. Jill is topless. In my room.

And her tits are fucking magical.

They’re perky, just like her. Full, twin globes with juicy nipples. Eager ones.

I’ve imagined them millions of times and never came close to this perfection.

She takes my wrist and trails my fingertips up her bare stomach, closing my hand over her right tit and I trap a moan, my hips shifting uncomfortably on the bed.

“Did they mention these?” Jill whispers, teasing my mouth into a too-brief kiss, leaving me poised on the edge of desperate, before turning around, glancing back at me over her shoulder. “Or were they more focused on this, Zach?”

She drags her tiny shorts down, revealing her tight ass.

And she keeps going, bending all the way forward until they’ve reached her ankles and she can kick them off. Jesus Christ. I can’t fucking breathe. Did I just see the pink ring of her asshole? A hint of her pussy? My dick is straining in my sweatpants and perspiration is already rolling down my spine. The backside that has starred in hundreds of sick fantasies is mere inches from my face, her buns small but round, full and luscious.

No panties.

“Which parts were they talking about, Zach?” she murmurs, slowly, slowly sitting down right in the center of my lap, her taut buns pressing down on my hard cock. Is this really happening? I’m fully clothed in my bedroom and Jill is completely naked, showing me her body. Every inch of it. I’m already on the verge of coming and she only climbed in through my window ten minutes ago. She circles her ass and I groan brokenly, my head falling back. “Well?”

“I won’t repeat the nasty shit they said,” I pant.

“No, I had a feeling you wouldn’t.” She takes my hand again, bringing it around the front of her. No, she’s not…she’s not going to…but she does. She cups my hand between her thighs, all of that moist, girlish softness filling my palm—Jesus—and I tighten my grip without thinking. It’s just instinct. Her pussy has always been mine, at least in my head, and my hand moves on its own. “Yes, Zach,” she moans, grinding on my lap. “They might have said nasty things about my body, but…you’re the only one who’ll ever see it. Touch it.”

“Thank you.” I mutter thickly, not comprehending her meaning. “Thank you.”

I exhale shakily into her shoulder, my fingers beginning to move, to play with her pussy, marveling at the delicate flesh, the way she releases a long breath, like she was just waiting for me to stroke her. Dying for it.

A movement a few feet away brings my attention up and I realize…I realize I can see the front of her in my full-length mirror. I can see her working her hips in my lap, my huge fingers stroking through the tiny folds of her sex. And it’s like watching porn and experiencing it at the same time. It’s almost too much to handle, my balls hardening like stones. She is the most beautiful girl on earth and I’m twice her size, a sheen of sweat on my forehead while she’s fresh as a daisy, perfection in the flesh. If I wasn’t so turned on, I might be horrified at this beauty and the beast scenario playing out, but she’s so hot in my lap, her sweet ass raking up and back on my stiff dick, more and more wetness beginning to soak my fingers.

“Horny little thing,” I grunt against her ear.

Did I just say that out loud? I’m immediately horrified. I’d kill another guy for speaking to her with such disrespect. That is…until I see her eyes light up, hear her breath catch.

“More,” she pushes past swollen lips. “M-more talking.”

I find her clit with the pad of my middle finger and worry it firmly. “Is this what you came in here for, baby? You needed me to take care of you?” In the mirror’s reflection, I watch her back arch. Watch her throw her thighs wider, draping them over mine, opening her pussy to my gaze, my touch. Goddamn, she’s incredible. An angel that’s been cursed with a budding sex drive and I’m the chosen one who’s lucky enough to relieve her. “I’ll service this little pink cunt of yours. Day or night.”

And I don’t know why I do it, but I slap her pussy.

I slap it twice.

“Zach!” Jill’s head falls back on my shoulder and her petite body shakes with such violence, I’m worried I hurt her. Until I feel the deluge of moisture coating my fingertips…and I realize I made her come. She liked me talking nasty to her, being a little rough, and Jesus, for someone who has always worried I’d be too physically demanding with her, on account of my size, that blows my mind. The eager writhes of her ass in my lap as she orgasms make my breath wheeze in and out, my fingers continuing to stroke her clit through to the end.

Fuck.

I can’t control myself.

There she is in the mirror, naked, coming on my fingers, her nipples in juicy little points, so sexy, she shouldn’t even be real…and my cock is being strangled.

It aches. It aches.

To say nothing of my balls, which are furiously trying to climb inside my body.

Tightening. Squeezing.

Before I can temper my own actions, I’m throwing Jill face down on the bed and pinning her down with my considerable weight, pumping my cock into the split of her ass, humping her through my sweatpants, grunting and groaning into her hair.

“I’ll wreck this pretty little cheerleader ass. I’ll fucking wreck it.”

I watch her fingers curl into the bedspread and worry I’m behaving like an animal, or worse, scaring her, but I can’t stop. I’m bucking against her so wildly, the bed bumps across the floor. Every single one of my muscles is pulled tight as a bow string, a bead of sweat rolling down my temple and…mother of God.

She lifts her ass just in inch, moaning my name and I hit pussy. I hit Jill’s pussy.

I come so hard, my teeth grind down and I bellow in my throat like a bull, just barely trapping the sound with her shoulder. My stomach seems to cave in on itself, squeezing, my balls pulsing, pulsing, emptying themselves as I continue to hump her brokenly, ejaculating against her cunt from behind, nothing but a layer of sweatpants between us. My spurts are rolling down the insides of my thighs, soaking the front of my sweatpants, so that eventually my thrusts against her bottom produce a sloppy sound and it makes me come more. Harder.

Until finally I’m totally spent. More finished than I’ve been in my life.

But I’m not relaxed. God no.

I’m climb off Jill, anxiously turning her over, searching her beautiful features for signs of stress or tears or disgust. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“Uh-uh,” she says huskily, her lips turning up at the corners, a lazy, languid smile stealing across her face. “No, Zach. You didn’t hurt me. That was…that was…”

I hold my breath.

She throws her arms around my neck, hugging me tight. “Wonderful.”

My arms go around her, too, hauling her up against me, whispering a grateful prayer up at the ceiling. God. I squeeze my eyes shut. Every time I think I’m as in love with Jill as I can get, I go deeper. There’s a voice in the back of my head, telling me I’m going to have my heart ripped out, but I don’t listen. I can’t. I’ve got the girl of my dreams naked in my arms and even if it means I’ll eventually get my chest slashed into two halves, I’m not giving this up.

No, I’ll keep this feeling as long as she’ll give it to me.

“Zach?”

I trail my fingers up and down her spine. Man, she’s soft. Everywhere.

“Yeah, Jilly Beans?”

She looks up at me through her eyelashes, leans up and French kisses me slowly, wetly until my cock starts to stiffen again. “We’re going to break your third rule,” she whispers right against my mouth. “Just thought you should know.”

I can only lay there with a knot in my throat as she dresses quickly and climbs back out the window. And I spend the night listening to her giggle drift through my bedroom door, replaying her promise over and over again, wondering if I was an idiot to think any rules could apply to something as addictive and intense as this.

Wondering how long it will take her to leave me in her rearview.

5

Jill

Monday morning can’t come fast enough.

I want to see Zach again.

Even if he made me promise to keep this new part of our relationship a secret at school, I just want to be around him. Even more than usual—and that is really saying something, considering I always feel like I’m holding my breath until that first glimpse of him in the hallways of Juniper High.

Once again, I’m surprised how bold I was in his bedroom on Saturday night. But I wasn’t lying when I told Zach I trust him. That trust made it easier to let go and then it was like flying. Every time I think of our reflections in the mirror, I shiver, the walls of my flesh compressing, prickly heat racing down to my toes. Has he been thinking about it nonstop, too?

Maybe once we’ve spent some more time together, he’ll want to be with me. Out in the open. He won’t be worried about his fellow honor students judging him for dating the head cheerleader who could barely pass geometry.

Zach was really sweet to call me intelligent the other night, but I know he was just being kind to me, like he always is. This is the same guy who once pretended to ride a roller coaster with me at Six Flags, then snuck me out the exit door before we could actually board the ride, because I was terrified. And then he bought me a waffle cone, sat beside me on a bench and waited for everyone else to catch up.

He’s the best. That’s why I love him.

So I need to be happy with the arrangement. And anyway, no one can stop me from daydreaming about us walking down the hallways holding hands.

A little flip in my stomach signals that Zach is coming.

I check my reflection in the mirror I have taped up inside my locker and brush nonexistent wrinkles from the skirt of my blue and white flowery sundress. Swallowing the butterflies in my throat, I turn my head to watch Zach approach and my knees go weak. He’s a foot taller than any of the students he passes, so cool and unassuming in his jeans and navy long-sleeved shirt, pushed up to the elbows, backpack over one shoulder. Boots. A few days’ growth of his beard.

My thighs squeeze together at the memory of him driving those huge hips against my bottom. I’ll wreck this pretty little cheerleader ass. I’ll fucking wreck it.

Anticipation crackles in my tummy. Want for more. If he asked me to make out with him right here and now, in front of everyone, I would do it without question, because I’m that desperate for more of his kisses. More of his fingers on me. Inside me, maybe, next time.

Zach’s moss-green eyes find me through the sea of students and they warm, his mouth lifting in a lopsided smile. Is he going to come talk to me? In front of everyone? That wouldn’t be unusual, right? Everyone knows we’re close because of my friendship with Harper.

He keeps coming in my direction and I know I’m smiling like a total idiot. His gaze travels down the front of my dress, catching on the short hem where it brushes me high on my thighs. A muscle ticks in his cheek. I’m aware of my appearance enough to know these heeled sandals do a lot for my legs, making them look longer, and I hope he’s picturing them wrapped around his waist. I hope he can’t wait another day to touch me. I can’t.

When Zach is about ten feet away, something in his expression changes. He looks at something behind me and his stride slows. I glance back over my shoulder and see my friends from the squad are closing in, huddled together and laughing at something on one of their phones.

And when I turn back, Zach is gone.

Quickly, I turn and bury my head in my locker, so no one will witness the burning humiliation on my face. I expected Zach to be standoffish in front of the smarter kids, but the cheerleaders, too? Maybe he just wants to avoid anyone speculating that something might be going on.

After all, when one word of gossip is whispered at this small school, everyone has heard it within the hour.

Stop being so sensitive. You knew the rules.

With a restoring breath, I reach into my locker for my sociology textbook, but it’s nowhere to be found. I must have left it at home. Shoot. The sociology teacher deducts points for not being prepared in class and I really can’t afford to have my grade falter.

I turn to one of my friends who are chattering away at the locker beside mine.

“Hey, Mindy. You don’t have sociology today, right?”

“No.” She combs her fingers through her bangs. “Tomorrow.”

“Is your book in your car? Can I borrow it?”

She shrugs and starts to rummage through her backpack for keys. “Sure. It’s in the backseat.”

“Thanks.”

A minute later I’m jogging across campus toward the parking lot, well aware that I’m going to be late and already cringing over the hard time my teacher is going to give me. But at least he won’t ding me, points-wise. The parking lot is pretty clear of students right now, since most of them have made their way to the next period. I turn in the circle looking for Mindy’s red Honda Accord, pressing her unlock button a few times until I see the lights flashing.

As I’m hustling toward it, I notice two low-to-the-ground sports cars at the end of the parking lot. They’re side by side revving their engines, senior guys standing around and encouraging them with whistles and shouts. What are they doing?

It’s not until I hear the squeal of tires that I realize they’re racing.

Drag racing.

In the school parking lot.

And I’m right in their path.

They have to see me, right? If they do, they must be pretty sure I’ll get out of the way in time, because they don’t slow down. They only speed up. At first I’m frozen, but my survival instinct kicks in and I throw myself in between two parked cars, scraping my knee painfully on the asphalt. I squeeze my eyes shut waiting for them to pass, but they never do.

There’s a loud metal on metal screech, immediately followed by a deafening crash.

The car I’m hiding behind skids toward me, knocking me into the vehicle on the other side and I smack my head, landing flat on my back on the blacktop. There’s some shouting in the distance and eventually around me, but I just lie there, trying to regain my equilibrium. The sun winks in and out behind clouds above me. My knee is a sharp throb.

I’m lucky to be alive, that much I know, even through the daze.

“Jill!”

Zach’s panicked shout is what finally causes me to sit up slowly. I blink a couple of times and wait for a flood of disorientation, but thankfully it doesn’t come. Probably no concussion. As a cheerleader, I take spills all the time while practicing stunts and I think I’m more stunned than anything. Who expects to almost get mowed down by a car in the school parking lot?

Zach is still calling my name, sounding more and more anxious, and I realize the front ends of the cars on either side of me have been wedged together. No one can see me on the ground. So I put up a hand, waving it—and Zach is there an instant later, launching himself over the damaged cars and kneeling down on the ground beside me.

He’s sucking wind, his green eyes haunted as they travel over me. When he sees my bloody knee, he chokes a sound, raking his fingers through his hair. “Oh my God, Jill, baby, are you okay? Are you?”

“Yes. I’m fine.”

His hands shake, hesitating over my bloody knee. “Jesus. I couldn’t find you. I couldn’t find you. I thought…” He shakes his head vigorously. “What the fuck happened?”

I open my mouth to tell him, then stop.

Obviously, I can’t lie. But if I tell him the guys almost hit me while racing, I have a feeling he won’t react well. And I won’t have him messing up his amazing school record over me. Not when he’s destined for bigger, better things.

Zach latches on to my hesitation, eyes narrowing.

This is the most even-tempered man I know, except maybe when he’s on the football field. But there’s nothing even about him now. Jagged rage spikes in his expression and he’s pushing to his booted feet, vaulting over the mangled wreckage.

“Zach, no,” I call after him.

I stand and limp forward, but there’s no way I’ll get over the smashed front ends of these cars with my injury, so I hobble around the back as fast as I can, adrenaline pounding in my ears. When I make it out into the parking lot, students are standing around in droves, obviously drawn outside by the loud crash. Zach has one of the drivers by the neck, holding him off the ground against his totaled car. “You almost killed her, you piece of shit,” Zach roars, bashing the student onto the vehicle, the guy’s head and limbs flailing like a rag doll. A security guard is trying to drag Zach off the other student with no luck. He’s half Zach’s size.

It’s up to me to stop him from doing something he’ll regret.

“Zach!” I shout, limping over and laying a hand on his arm.

A tremor goes through him and he looks down at me with a wild expression. Like he’s lost in some vengeful place inside his own head and I’m calling to him from another planet. “Jill,” he says hoarsely.

That’s the moment the whole ordeal catches up with me, so the tears that gather in my eyes are real. “My knee hurts so bad. You have to take me to the nurse.”

A light clicks on behind his eyes. His Adam’s apple swells and plummets.

He looks at the student he’s holding off the ground and tosses him down to the pavement with a snarl, his fingers flexing at his sides, visibly restraining himself. And then he turns on a heel and scoops me up, carrying me through the thongs of gaping students toward the main building where the nurse’s office is located. No one moves, they just watch us pass. But I don’t have time to worry about their opinions or how they might bother Zach, I just lay my head on his big shoulder, confident I’m in the best care possible and let all of my concerns wash away.

“How did you know I was in the parking lot?”

His heart hammers against my ear. “When I heard the crash, I went looking for you. I just wanted to know…I got nervous. And then you weren’t in class, where you’re supposed to be.” He has to take several deep breaths before continuing. “I saw your friends and one of them said you’d run out to grab a book from her car. Everything after that is a blur. Until now.”

My pulse clamors. “Because you’re holding me?”

Several beats pass. “Yes,” he rasps, jaw tight. “Are you hurt anywhere besides your knee?”

I’m still reeling from the fact that Zach admitted holding me had such an effect on him. What does it mean? “I bumped my head, but not too hard. It’ll just be a little sore.”

“Christ. Your head?” He kicks open the front door of the main building and carries me through the opening. “It could have been worse. You’re getting checked anyway.”

“It’s really not—”

“Please don’t argue with me. I just…I really need to know you’re okay.”

I look up at him, my knight in shining armor and I’m more in love than ever. And I almost tell him, right there outside the nurse’s office, but my fear that he doesn’t feel the same keeps my lips sealed. Maybe if I’d had more courage, we could have avoided what came next.

6

Zach

I pace back and forth in front of the bed in the nurse’s office, watching as the woman shines a pen light in Jill’s eyes to determine if she has a concussion.

I’m a cross between sick to my stomach and livid beyond words.

Racing. They were racing near my Jill.

If they’d hit her…

A bellow lodges in my throat and I press a fist to my lips, keeping it from escaping. I’ve already revealed way too much about how I feel today. I need to calm down. Stop walking the office like a caged animal, my hands poised to rip the bars off if something serious is wrong with her. If I’d stopped to talk to her in the hallway, she wouldn’t have been in the parking lot at the exact wrong time. This is my fault. I didn’t want her friends to laugh at her for talking to me, but I didn’t know the alternative was her nearly getting run over. Goddammit.

What is taking the nurse so long?

“Is it a concussion?” I ask, unable to stand the suspense any longer. If she has a head injury, I’m taking her to the hospital immediately.

The nurse looks back at me with speculation. “No. No concussion.” Her smile is tight as she stands. “Let’s get that knee cleaned and bandaged, then you can sit here for a while and rest, all right?”

“That sounds perfect, thank you,” Jill murmurs.

I try not to stare over the nurse’s shoulder while she’s cleaning up Jill’s knee, but I can’t help it. I wince every time Jill does, a vein beating in my forehead at the sight of gravel pieces embedded in her beautiful skin. God, I should have killed those little shits for what they did. What if I’d run into the parking lot and seen Jill lying still in the middle of the lane? I don’t even think I’d be here right now. I think I immediately would have left earth, unable to bear a second without her alive.

“Okay, you’re all set,” the nurse is saying. “Keep the ice pack on for fifteen minutes, then I’ll send you back to class.” The older woman gives me the side eye. “I assume you’re going to stand guard over her?”

I grunt. Nod once.

The nurse leaves, pulling the partition curtain behind her, and Jill smiles up at me from her prone position, her blonde hair fanned out around her. “Will you text Harper and let her know I’m okay?” She licks her lips almost nervously. “I-I mean she might have heard by now that you…came to get me. But just in case.”

“Sure,” I say, tugging out my phone and firing off a text to my sister.

I’ve got Jill.

In other words, she’s fine. She’s safe. And I won’t let it be any other way.

“How do you feel?” I ask, stowing my phone and kneeling down beside the bed.

“Good.” Is she looking at my mouth or it that my imagination? “Thank you for coming to get me.”

Her gratitude makes the tips of my ears burn. “Of course I did.”

A few seconds tick by. “Zach?”

“Hmm.”

“Why do you always come to my rescue?”

This conversation is veering toward dangerous territory. The answer is, because I love you. I’ve always loved you. But this physical relationship between us is so new. She asked me to help her explore her sexual urges—safely. As far as I know, that’s all she wants. End of story. That’s what makes sense considering how different we are. Her perfect, me an overgrown barbarian. If I tell her the truth about my feelings, I might terrify her. Lose what we have, even if it’s only temporary.

Still, I don’t have it in me to lie completely right now. Not when I’m raw from what happened in the parking lot.

“I come to your rescue because…” I clear my throat. “You’re my Jilly Beans.”

Her lips, soft from crying, puff open.

Leaning down to kiss her is natural as breathing. The only possibility.

That perfect mouth of hers opens underneath mine and we drag our tongues together slowly, the friction so hot, it feels forbidden. This is forbidden. We’re not supposed to be kissing like this in the nurse’s office, especially with the woman ten yards away, talking on the phone, but I don’t know how to stop when Jill’s lips are so smooth and now she’s tugging on my collar, pulling me closer, making breathy little noises that make my cock hard.

My hand reaches up to cup her cheek, the pace of the kiss accelerating. My eyes are closed so tight, trying to savor the texture of her mouth, but I can sense her back arching. And my hand drifts down automatically, traveling over the sexy swells of her tits, plumping them in my palms, teasing her nipples with my thumbs.

“How long do we have until she comes back?” Jill breathes against my mouth.

“Baby, we can’t go any further than this.” This is what I say, but my fingers are twisting the buttons free at the neckline of her dress so I can squeeze her little bare tits.

She presses them into my hands and I fondle those supple mounds greedily. “I need you,” she says, voice low. “Please.”

I barely trap a groan. “How?”

Her whisper is almost inaudible. “Inside me.”

Fuck. This isn’t happening right here. I’m still reeling from the impact of finding her hurt. Bleeding. Denying her right now? I don’t know if I have the strength, despite our surroundings. Despite the trouble we could be in if we’re caught. “No. We can’t. We can’t.”

One thing I learned about Jill on Saturday night is that she’s ballsy as hell when she gets turned on. And she’s extremely turned on right now, her gaze wide and excited on my straining dick. “Come with me.”

Before I can question her meaning, she’s climbing off the bed and disappearing into the small bathroom reserved for the nurse’s office. No. I’m not doing this. I’m not risking Jill getting expelled. But even as I chant these denials in my head, I’m moving toward the bathroom as if hypnotized. I stop at the edge of the curtain to make sure the nurse isn’t looking and find her leaned back, eating a yogurt at her desk, deep in conversation about tanning sprays.

And I follow Jill into the bathroom, locking the door behind us.

The space smells like lemon cleaning products, but Jill’s airy scent cuts through it all, her body finding mine in the dark, our mouths tangling together with a soundless moan.

“You’re injured,” I say, walking her backward until she’s trapped between me and the wall. “You’re a virgin.” Our fingers collide in a rush to yank down her panties. “This isn’t good enough for you. Stop me, Jill. Stop me.”

She takes my hand and guides it between her thighs, pressing my fingers into the slick folds of her pussy. “No.” She slides my touch up and back. “Feel how bad I need you?”

“Yes. Jesus,” I pant, finding her clit with my middle and index finger, rubbing it in firm circles, gratified when she has to cling to my T-shirt in response, her mouth open and whimpering on my shoulder. “We don’t have long. We have to be quiet.”

“I know.” Her exhale is bumpy. “But I can’t wait.”

“Fuck, baby. Neither can I.” I unzip my jeans, pushing them, along with my briefs down to my ankles where they rest on my boots. Then I stoop down and wrap my arm around Jill’s ass, lifting her. She wraps her thighs around my waist and I pin her to the wall, breathing against her lips like a bull getting ready to charge. “Tell me you’re sure.”

“I’m so sure.”

I lick into her mouth for a kiss and she returns it excitedly, her thighs flexing around my waist, the wet heat of her cunt circling on my hard cock. If we were in my bedroom, I would spend an hour making her ready, worshipping her pussy with my tongue, but this is wild, without order or plans. There’s no stopping this. We both need it for different reasons. Me because I fucking love her. Jill because she’s a horny little girl who chose my lucky cock to be her first ride. And I have no choice but to give it to her.

“No screaming. Don’t make a sound,” I rasp, guiding the tip of my shaft to her opening and finding it quivering, drenched. Christ. She’s practically shaking with the need to be fucked. My body reacts to her obvious need on instinct, driving my swollen inches into her firmly, watching her eyes go blind as I slowly impale her to the wall.

Oh. Oh fuck.

My eyes roll back in my head, mouth falling open.

So warm. So tight. Wet, milking girl surrounding my cock. I knew being inside of Jill would be mind-blowing, but this? No man deserves this. She’s snug and firm and welcoming and shit shit shit how am I going to last a minute? Especially with her tits out, her eyes glassy with the same desire that’s wracking me, owning me. My balls are already in an invisible death grip, the base of my spine being wrenched and twisted.

I take two handfuls of her sweet ass in my grip, press our foreheads together and breathe, breathe with her. Try to center myself. “Does it hurt, baby?”

“A little, but…” Her eyes jog over my face. “I’m so happy, I barely feel the pain.” She bites her lip and constricts her inner walls, producing a strangled sound from my throat. “Fuck me, Zach.”

Those three words set me off. Jill never curses. She’s a good girl.

But not right now.

Right now, she’s a hot little temptation with her panties on the floor, her dress around her waist, her tight pussy full of my dick. There’s no way to make this romantic, like I always swore her first time would be, on the crazy chance she ever had it with me. No, this is down and dirty, two virgins who’ve been craving this adult act so long, we move in a frenzy. I rail her like a dog in heat, squeezing my cock in and out of her little cunt, boosting her up, up, up against the wall. She makes a mewling sound every time there’s impact, her legs dangling and loose around me, her fingertips buried in my shoulders, titties shaking all over the place.

“Such a hungry pussy you’ve been hiding under that little cheerleading skirt, huh, baby? All those innocent smiles at the crowd, shaking your pompoms. When you really just wanted to drop your panties for me, let me bang you raw.”

Her legs jerk around me, breath catching. “Oh m-my God. More.”

“Yeah, I know.” I grit my teeth against her ear, rifling into her snug hole, my balls tightening, tightening. “I know what you need. You need me to tell you what a hot little fuck you are. You need me to tell you I’ve been jerking off in my bedroom to your giggles for years.”

She sucks in a breath, her sex pulsing around me. “You have?”

I shouldn’t be telling her this, but I can’t hold back. I can’t hold anything back. Not when I’m finally inside of her and the end is so close. So close. “I imagine you naked and giggling in my bed, trying to roll away so I won’t come on you, but…I hold you there. Underneath me. I get it all over your belly and tits and…”

“My face?” she asks breathlessly.

I grind into her roughly, wincing at the intense pleasure. “Yes.”

Her face is flushed with pleasure. “Bad, bad Zach.”

My fingers bite into her buns, keeping her still so I can get more impact, feel that hilt like a slap every time I go balls deep. “Yes. Bad.”

“I shouldn’t let you come inside me,” she whispers, in a way that says she wants the opposite.

Our eyes lock and I see the thrill there. The eagerness. And I respond, “Maybe you don’t have a choice, baby. I couldn’t pull out of this tight fucking kitty if I tried.”

After that, it only takes one pump and she’s coming, her teeth stuck in her lower lip, legs trembling uncontrollably. I follow her, making a hoarse sound into the curve of her neck, my hips slamming forward, pleasure-pain gripping my gut, twisting it as the relief burns through. My muscles ripple with power and helplessness at the same time and I watch her in awe, watch her blue eyes go sightless, her body seizing, her sex throbbing tightly around me, stroking an immense amount of spend from my cock without apology.

“Zach,” she mouths. “Zach.”

Both of our bodies lose tension at the same time, her legs drop from around my hips and I hold her against my chest, kissing her hairline, saying the sweet things I wasn’t capable of when she had me so turned on. “Beautiful girl. Sweet, sweet girl. You felt so good. So perfect.”

“So did you.”

“Are you okay? No pain?”

“Just a twinge, but it’s nothing compared to how good it felt.” She looks up at my, her eyes luminous. “Zach—”

There’s a brisk knock on the bathroom door.

Jill slaps a hand over her mouth and I can tell by her expression she forgot we’re at school. I guess I have no choice but to take that as a compliment, but I’ll think about that later. “Just helping her get to the bathroom,” I call to the nurse, kneeling down and working the panties back up Jill’s legs, fixing her dress around her thighs, before standing and zipping myself back into my jeans, swiping the sweat from my brow.

“You shouldn’t be in there with her, Mr. O’Meara,” the nurse says angrily through the door. “If she needed help to the bathroom, you should have come to get me.”

“I didn’t think it would be inappropriate.” At this point, I’m just buying Jill time to fix her hair. “I’ve known her since we were kids.”

“Ooh yeah!” Jill pipes up, grabbing some paper towels, both of us wiping the trails of come from her inner thighs. “I’m really like his sister.”

I give Jill a skeptical look.

She winces. Shrugs.

The nurse knocks again. “Out!”

“Sorry,” Jill sings, leaning heavily on me for assistance while I pull open the door, escorting her through like a fragile patient. “When you gotta go…”

The nurse glances between us and the bathroom, suspicion written on every line of her face. “Go back to class, you two.”

“Right away,” Jill says, using my arm for support all the way to the door, both of us trying and failing to subdue smiles. “Thanks for everything!”

We laugh into the empty hallway, holding our sides from keeping in the amusement.

She looks at me with sparkling eyes.

And at that moment, everything seems perfect.

Utterly, unbelievably perfect.

I’m even starting to ponder the possibility that Jill might have…feelings for me. As long as I’ve known this girl, I’ve never known her to do anything half-hearted. She’s all or nothing. Would she give her body to me with no reservations if she didn’t at least feel something?

I don’t know.

It seems insane that she might want me for more than…exploring.

I’m also very aware of the fact that letting her move on, in an hour or a day or five months? It just got next to impossible.

And I might have to do something about it.

Like ask her to homecoming.

7

Jill

There’s something in the air. A difference in the way things felt yesterday.

For one, Zach texted me last night.

Goodnight, Jilly Beans.

I was so surprised to receive it, I almost launched straight off my mattress and face planted on the floor, which would have led to my second injury of the day. There was no one to ask for advice on what to text back. I could probably have called Harper, but I don’t want to make her my confidant in all things Zach. That wouldn’t be fair to her.

I’m not allowed to tell anyone at school.

And my mother would have just eye rolled me.

So I panicked and sent back a selfie lying on my pillow, along with a kissy face emoji.

The second thing that makes today different from all other days is it’s my first full one as a non-virgin. I have an enormous secret that is running in my head at all times. During class, when my friends are talking to me. I haven’t seen Zach yet today and I’m hoping I’ll feel a little more anchored when I see his eyes. Maybe they’ll give me a hint about what he’s thinking. Or if he’s starting to feel more serious about our relationship.

I do a quick check of my reflection in my locker mirror and close it. Right before I turn around I hear some of the football players snickering behind my back. Some of my friends from the cheerleading squad are laughing, too. Encouraging them. If it wasn’t already obvious who they were talking about, one of the football players picks up a cheerleader, carrying her the way Zach carried me yesterday. They look at each other with exaggerated affection while everyone around them makes kissing noises.

“Oh Zach.”

“Oh Jill!”

“Save me!”

Laughter erupts in the hallway and my face flames, my back bumping my locker.

Yes, of course, I’m a little embarrassed. I’m lucky enough not to have a lot of experience being the object of ridicule before. I’m also caught off guard. Irritated. They don’t know anything about me and Zach. And how dare they make fun of his heroics? His concern for me?

“You’re not funny,” I say to the football player. “And you wish you could pass for Zach.”

He snorts. “I’d definitely have to gain a few pounds.”

Zach steps into the hallway on the heels of that pronouncement, his stride slowing to a stop. He assesses the scene with a sweep of his eyes, his expression betraying nothing. But I know he heard. He had to have heard otherwise my heart wouldn’t be weeping. I mouth his name but no sound comes out.

He seems to hear it anyway, his attention landing and me and falling away quickly, his head dropping forward. But not before I see the flash of sorrow in his eyes. Everyone is silent as he continues to his locker, opening it and swapping his books.

I start to go to him, the rules be damned.

I’m going to claim him in front of the whole school, because that’s what my heart is telling me is the right thing. The only thing.

But Miguel breezes into the hallway at that exact moment, seemingly oblivious to the tension around him, and blocks my path.

“Hey. Jill Harding.” He laughs, flashing his perfect white teeth. “Finally. I was starting to think you switched schools.”

Wow.

Really?

I’ve managed to successfully avoid this moment for weeks and now is the time my luck chooses to run out? The thing is, Miguel is a really nice person. Everyone loves him and it’s not just because he’s the high school quarterback. If I wasn’t in love with Zach, I would be really lucky to go with him to homecoming. The fact that he’s genuinely nice is also the reason I can’t just blow him off right now in front of everyone and embarrass him.

Zach and I briefly lock eyes over Miguel’s shoulder and I swallow the sack of nickels in my throat. I watch him interpret what is about to happen—another guy is about to ask me to homecoming—and his features tighten, nostrils flaring. His grip flexes around the strap of his backpack and I think of how possessively that hand touches me. I want that side of him to come out now. To come get me, ask me to homecoming himself.

But the other students are still whispering. They’re almost gleeful, looking between me and Miguel and Zach, speculating on what’s going to happen.

One thing I know is that I cannot go to the dance with Miguel.

I just can’t.

I would feel unfaithful and miserable and I don’t want to let this nice guy think I could ever date anyone but Zach. But I can’t tell him that in front of everyone. I have to find a way to spare him the awkwardness of being turned down.

“So, uh…Jill,” Miguel says, ducking his head to grab my attention. “I wanted to ask you…”

Before he can say the dreaded words, I shoot forward and cup my hand around his ear. “Can I talk to you outside for a second?”

He’s a little thrown off by the request, but he nods. “Of course.”

I smile at him. “Thanks.”

When I glance back at Zach’s locker on the way out the front entrance, he’s gone and my heart drops into my stomach.

Was I stupid to think he was beginning to like me?

Ever stupider to think he’d ask me to homecoming?

He was probably watching all of this dumb high school drama playing out, counting the moments until he could move on to bigger and better things. Smarter girls. I’ve been pining for him for years and I’ve been super obvious about it. Maybe I’ve just been embarrassing myself. Maybe he was just being his usual Zach self offering to help me appease my hormones.

And now…maybe he’s done.

If he wanted more, he would have told me.

He would have fought for me.

So…I guess it’s time to sweep up the pieces of my broken heart and accept reality.

* * *

Zach

I sit on the edge of my bed, head in my hands.

Pulling on the strands of my hair until it hurts.

My insides feel like they’re on fire one minute, then the next, I’m hollow.

I can hear the excited voices out in the living room, Harper and her friends taking homecoming pictures, waiting for their dates to arrive. I haven’t heard Jill, but they have Dua Lipa on full blast, so the sweet, individual notes of her voice are probably being drowned out.

This has been the worst week of my life.

Jill no longer even looks at me.

She still lets me give her a ride home after school, but she just hops out without saying goodbye. Doesn’t even wave when she reaches the door. In the hallway, she moves past me like a ghost, her scent torturing me, my arms aching for her.

I know I should be grateful for the time we had together. It was more than I ever expected. Better than I ever dreamed. Worth feeling like I’ve had my heart ripped out through my mouth. But Jesus, I miss her so much. Not just her body and the privilege of touching her, but the way she used to look at me with so much trust. If all else failed, at least I had that. Her faith that I’d always be there, always rescue her. Now it feels like I have nothing.

For the millionth time in an hour, the scene in the school hallway replays behind my eyelids. The way she smiled up at Miguel, right before he asked to her homecoming.

Of course she accepted, though I didn’t stick around to hear her answer.

Of course she did.

Her association with me caused people to laugh at her in the hallway. Did I think she’d want to go anywhere with me after that? Especially a school dance?

I’d definitely have to gain a few pounds.

Just knowing she heard that comment makes my throat close up. Why? My size has never been a secret. She didn’t magically forget. It’s probably part of the reason I was so safe for her. She didn’t have to feel self-conscious around someone twice her size.

Honestly, that doesn’t seem like Jill at all, but then again, I never expected her to cut me off, begin completely ignoring me over a few wisecracks in the hallway. If she’d talk to me, I would apologize for bringing her that kind of negative attention. It’s the very thing I wanted to avoid. I’m supposed to protect her.

With a gulp, I shove to my feet and throw open my closet looking at the garment bag hanging in the corner. The tuxedo I rented Monday night, hours after she gave me her virginity. I must have been fucking delusional practicing how I was going to ask her in the rearview mirror of my truck the next morning.

A movement of color outside captures my attention.

It’s the girls outside in their dresses, greeting the guys as they arrive, and I can’t help but drift toward the window, starved for the sight of Jill. I’m already in hell, might as well descend even deeper by seeing her with Miguel.

After a few seconds of searching for her blonde hair with no results, I frown.

Where is she?

Still in the house?

I hesitate only a moment before leaving my bedroom and searching the rooms, just to make sure she’s okay. But she’s nowhere. And my pulse starts to spike, bolts tightening on either side of my neck.

Harper sticks her head back in through the open front door to grab her keys off the entry table and I stomp toward her. “Hey. Where is Jill? I don’t see her outside.”

My sister blinks. “She’s not coming.”

“Why? Where is she meeting Miguel?”

“She’s not. She turned him down gently.” Harper looks in the mirror and pokes at her hair. “Miguel is going with someone else.”

“What?” Confusion grips me, along with a deep sense of foreboding. “Are you telling me Jill isn’t going to the dance at all?”

“Yes. That is what I’m telling you.”

No. No, that’s not right. Jill is supposed to be at homecoming. She’s even on the ballot for homecoming queen, as she should be. Dressing up and dancing and being with her friends…those are things she’s supposed to experience, even if they’re not with me.

Even if it kills me.

“Why?” I rasp, shaking my head. “I don’t understand.”

Something in my tone causes Harper to look over sharply. Her expression turns sympathetic and a little indecisive. And that sense of foreboding triples, making my palms sweat. “Zach…” She sighs, firms her shoulders. “Seriously. How do you not know that Jill has been in love with you since we were kids?”

My heart holds its beats. No way I heard that right. “No. That can’t be true.”

“Oh no? Think about it. Have you seen her date anyone? Do you think people just haven’t been asking out the drop-dead gorgeous cheerleader?” My sister throws up her hands. “She was waiting for you.”

A blade drives into the center of my chest.

I’m suddenly standing on shifting sand, my legs unstable.

Jill Harding? In love with me?

“She told me you guys kissed, you know.” Harper runs a finger under her eye, fixing her makeup. “She was so excited. Thought maybe you were starting to have feelings for her.”

“Starting to?” I claw at my throat, trying to relieve the terrible crowding sensation. “Goddammit. Why are you only telling me this now?”

Harper shrugs. “Honestly, I didn’t know if you felt the same way about her. You play everything so close to the vest. She’s my best friend and I didn’t want to risk making things awkward for no reason.” She raises an eyebrow. “Do you feel the same way about Jill?”

I plant my hands on my knees, doubled over from the repeated blows. “I’ve loved her my whole fucking life.”

“Oh,” Harper breathes, stricken. “I’m sorry, Zach.”

Every single smile Jill has ever given me suddenly looks different. Now instead of just seeing a sweet girl being friendly to the big boy, I see the hope in her eyes. I see her knuckles turning white around her backpack straps and her stuttering my name. I see her running to catch up with me after football games when she could have been with her popular friends.

And I want to die.

I want to fucking die.

How many times have I walked away from that offering of more, leaving her disappointed? Christ. My windpipe is being crushed in a vise.

“Did I…lose her?” I choke out.

Harper hesitates. “I don’t know.”

The uncertainty unbalances me more, but the stakes are too high here to lie down and give up. So I stumble blindly for my room and pull the garment bag out of the closet.

8

Jill

I roll over and face the wall, wailing pitifully into my pillow.

Pretty much what I’ve done every night this week, but I can’t help but shed a few extra tears tonight for homecoming. What a magical night it might have been if Zach asked me to go. Although I would be just as happy to share a Coke with him in the school cafeteria at this point. I miss him so much, I can’t eat or sleep. Sure, I’ve been seeing him at school, but it hurts just to be in his presence knowing he doesn’t want me.

My bedroom door opens and I know it’s my mother again, probably leaving a plate of food. I wish she wouldn’t bother, I hate being wasteful and I can’t manage to choke a bite down without bursting into waterworks.

“Mom, I’m still not hungry,” I say, my voice thick with tears.

“Jill,” she says hesitantly. “Get dressed, there’s someone—”

“Get dressed for what?” I pull the fluffy sides of my robe up over my face. And I know I’m being completely dramatic, but my heart is in nine million pieces and I haven’t slept well in a week. I’m delirious and inconsolable and I can’t help it. “He doesn’t want to go with me. He doesn’t even like me! I’m just his sister’s airhead friend.”

“Jill…” my mother prompts again.

“Why does he have to be so beautiful?” I roll over onto my stomach and release a torrent of tears into the pillow. “Why do I have to love him so much? It hurts so bad.”

My bedroom door closes and I cry all the harder for being deserted by my own mother.

Or at least I think she’s deserted me, until my mattress dips under her weight.

It dips a lot, though.

Enough that I roll onto my side and peek out from behind the lapels of my robe…

And there’s Zach, lying on his side next to me.

In a tuxedo.

My breath comes to a standstill inside my lungs. But it’s not the first time I’ve imagined this happening. Zach has never looked at me like this, either. With his heart in his eyes. It’s just my exhausted brain playing tricks on me. “You’re not really here,” I whisper.

“Yes, I am.”

I shake my head.

“Please stop crying, Jilly Beans,” he says hoarsely.

“Can’t.”

“How am I going to take you to homecoming if you don’t stop?”

“You can’t take me because I’m imagining you.”

Zach’s rocky exhale drifts over my face and I frown. That’s definitely the first time one of my fantasies has included sensory features. And I’m still marveling over it when Zach scoots closer on the bed, until we’re right up against each other.

He takes my hand and places it over his heart.

I gasp at the way it flies, seemingly at a thousand beats per minute, slamming up into my palm as if it wants to exit his chest.

He’s here. He’s really in my bedroom. In a tux.

“I’m so sorry, Jill.” His voice catches. “I’m so sorry. Jesus, you just said…you called me beautiful? And said you love me? Please understand. I never, ever could have believed that, Jill. I’ve always known you were out of my league. You are. I’ve known it since we met and…by keeping you at a distance, I think I was protecting myself from too much pain. Living without being yours was painful enough already. And I fucked up. I fucked up. I was hurting you all along, wasn’t I? I’ll never forgive myself for that, baby. I’m not supposed to hurt you.”

This is really happening. He’s really saying these words.

My heart is beating in my throat, the tears in my eyes causing his image to swarm. “I do love you. I meant that. It feels like it’s going to burst out of me all the time.”

His eyelids drift shut. “I’m never going to get used to you saying things like that. God.” His throat works, those green eyes capturing me once again. “If I ever hear you call yourself an airhead again, Jill, I swear to Christ. Don’t talk about the girl I love like that.”

“You love me?” I whisper, a warm tingle racing up my spine.

He turns my hand over, palm up. “You’ve been holding my heart right here all along. Didn’t you feel it bleeding for you?”

“No,” I sob.

A sheen spreads in his eyes. “Do you feel it now?”

Yes. I do feel it. All the walls are down between us and there’s no mystery left. He’s looking at me like I’m the center of his universe and I know I’m looking back at him the same way. There’s a promise in his eyes that this is the beginning of something that doesn’t have an end. “Yes.” I slide my arms around his neck and snuggle into his body. “I feel it.”

Zach draws me in closer and holds me tight, like he’s afraid I’ll fly away, but I only want to get closer. And there’s nothing to stop me. No doubts or unknowns. So I wrap a leg around his hip, offering him my mouth and he takes it hungrily, no hesitation. After four days of no contact, we’re frantic to reacquaint our tongues, stroking them together, moaning over the slick friction, the smooth slide of our lips.

It’s only a matter of seconds before Zach rolls me onto my back, his big hips crowding between my thighs. He’s in a tux and I’m in a short robe, and the contrast of that makes my pulse spike. “Missed you so much, baby,” he mutters in between kisses. “Thought I was going to die without you.”

“Me too.” I kiss his jaw, his cheek, his mouth. “Me too.”

We realize at the same moment that my robe has unbelted. I took a shower a couple of hours ago and immediately lay down to feel bad for myself, so I’m not wearing a bra or panties, meaning I’m completely naked in the lamplight. I could already feel Zach’s erection against my inner thigh, but it lengthens now, turning harder, thicker. His expression is reverent, his fingertips tracing a circle around my left nipple, groaning when it tightens into a spike. “We can’t.” He drops his mouth to my breast, licking the peak and shivering. “Your mother could walk in here any second.”

“Lock the door,” I breathe, arching my back enticingly.

“Jill.” His tone holds a warning. “I’m your boyfriend now. I don’t want to get off on the wrong foot with your parents. They could restrict me from seeing you.”

All of this makes total sense, but my body isn’t letting me be logical. All I know is the man of my dreams is in my bed, I’m naked, and miracle of miracles, he just called himself my boyfriend. “But I want to feel you inside me. Please?” I bite my lip. “Just a little?”

Zach bites off a growl. “Jill, you know if I get the tip in, you’re getting the whole cock.”

His guttural speech makes me blush and I think in that moment, we both know resisting is pointless. Zach curses and climbs off the bed, turning the lock. Before he can get back into bed with me, I sit up, stopping him. “Wait,” I whisper. “Can you…take your jacket and shirt off? I want to see you.”

The two times things have gotten physical between us, he’s always been fully clothed, but I crave the sight of his skin. Want to know if he has hair on his chest, a happy trail, even the color of his nipples.

Zach hesitates, though, and my throat constricts.

I walk toward the edge of the bed on my knees, shedding the robe behind me. I hold his eyes with mine as I remove his bow tie, laying it on the bed. Next I push the jacket off his shoulders and start on the buttons of his white dress shirt. He clears his throat and looks away, the tips of his ears deepening in color, but occasionally he glances at my face, as if to determine my reaction to the thick chest and hefty belly I’m slowly revealing.

Finally, all of the buttons are undone and I push open the shirt.

He’s a God. A meaty, broad-shouldered, masculine king. His belly protrudes out over his belt buckle, hair curling in a dark trail leading into his pants. His nipples are a beautiful tan, his arms like big, protecting cannons. And he towers over me, powerful and huge and mine.

“Zach,” I whisper, trailing a finger down between his pecs. “You’re so sexy.”

He starts to deny it, but then he notices I’m trembling. Notices I can barely breathe and goose bumps are rising on every inch of my skin. “Jill?”

“You’re mine,” I say, palming my breasts. Squeezing. “I want everyone to know.”

A few beats pass. “Christ.” He shakes his head. “I really do make you hot.”

My response is to take his hand and guide it between my thighs, encouraging him without words to delve his fingers into my folds and he does. They come away drenched and he curses, heat flaring in his expression. And right before my eyes, his confidence grows. The red fades from the tips of his ears and his shoulders go back. If possible, he’s even sexier than before and I didn’t think that was possible.

Before I can guess his intention, he grips my knees and tugs—hard—causing me to flop backward onto the mattress. Naked in front of his eyes. At first, when he goes down on his knees, I’m not sure what he’s doing, but then I’m being yanked to the very edge of the bed and his tongue is riding up the center of my sex, wet and stiff and determined. I have to slap a hand over my mouth to keep from screaming. And I have to keep it there, because Zach goes at me like a man possessed, licking and sucking me, rubbing my clit with the pad of his thumb, growling when my body releases more wetness, lapping it up eagerly.

“Zach,” I say in a muffled voice, my heels digging into his wide, muscular back. “Oh Jesus. Oh God. Oh God.”

He catches my knees in his hands and pushes them out wide, focusing hard on my buzzing bundle of nerves. Placing gentle raspberries over the top of it, laving it roughly with the flat of his tongue, and all the while, he breathes heavily, like a starved man devouring a feast. I can barely stand the pressure of my building orgasm. It’s monumental. Twisting me up.

My hips rear up off the bed, but he pins me down with a forearm and continues to exploit the rush of sensations, doggedly, daring me not to come. And the final straw is when our eyes lock. His tongue is out, flexing against my sex—and the world explodes. I scream into my hand and it’s too loud, I know it’s too loud. We could get caught, but Zach is suddenly on top of me, covering my mouth with his own hand, his other one stroking me through the climax. “Goddamn, baby. You are so fucking hot when you come.” When he determines I’m finished screaming, his hand leaves my mouth, traveling down to his zipper. Lowering it and releasing his straining shaft. “You’re hot when you take this, too, huh?”

Crudely, he fills me with his erection, every giant inch.

My drenched flesh accepts him impatiently, welcoming him with a hard clench.

His mouth lands on mine, muffling my whimpers, and I pray my mother is downstairs, because if she’s out in the hall—or anywhere upstairs—she definitely hears what’s going on in this bedroom. Thinking we could be quiet was a pipe dream. We’re too worked up, too desperate, too horny.

Especially when Zach starts to thrust and my bedsprings creak, creak, creak.

“Fuck,” he says through clenched teeth. “We’re going to get caught.”

“I know.”

“You’re so tight, baby,” he pants. “I can’t stop.”

The knob on my bedroom door jiggles and we freeze, Zach’s sex pulsing inside of me.

“Jill?” calls my mother, suspicion lacing her tone.

I struggle to make my voice sound normal, but it’s next to impossible because Zach is grinding into my slowly, his features contorted in pain. “Yes?”

“What are you doing in there?”

My pulse pounds in my temples. “Just talking.”

Several seconds tick by. “Be downstairs in five minutes.”

As soon as her footsteps echo down the hall, Zach is pulling me off the creaky bed onto the rug, which thankfully makes no sound at all. Intuition has me bending over on my hands and knees, but Zack lies down on his back, plucking me up by the waist and settling me astride his hips, sweat shining at his hairline. Wild excitement grips me. Finally, Zach is mine for the taking, bare chested and beautiful. In need of relief. I take his stiffness in my hands and bring it between my thighs, sinking down until it fill me completely.

“Oh my God,” he rasps, throwing his head back, his fingertips spearing into my hips. “You don’t know how many times I’ve thought of this.”

Breathless, I start to move, working my hips up and back, fingers buried in my hair, enjoying his attention on my breasts, my undulating body. “Did you?” I purr. “Did you want me to come into your bedroom and ride you during all those sleepovers, Zach?”

A shudder wracks him. “Yes.”

I swallow a moan, my lower body rolling faster, pumping, pumping, inching his rigid staff out of me, then accepting it deep once again, making the veins in his neck stand out, his chest heave. “Once I dreamed you snuck into the living room while everyone was sleeping. That you lay down next to me and lifted up my nightshirt, so my panties were showing. That you…touched yourself.”

“I’m sorry.” Zach’s tongue wets the seam of his lips. “I only did it once.”

My breath catches. “That was real?”

He holds my hips steady and rifles his hips upward, driving his fat sex into me from below and all I can do is hold on, try not to scream, but it feels so good. So full and good. “You sat in my lap after dinner. All that wiggling around,” he gasps. “You’d made me so hard.”

“Bad, bad Zach,” I whisper, flinging myself down onto his big furry chest and taking control again, throwing my hips back and slapping them down, sheathing his inches in quick, quick, quick rises and falls of my hips, watching his jaw slacken, his eyes turn glassy as I ride him hard. “I forgive you. You just needed me so bad, didn’t you?”

“Yes. Jesus, yes.”

“I needed you, too.” I lick at his mouth, teasing his tongue with the tip of mine. “Now I get to have my boyfriend whenever I want him,” I whisper against his mouth. “Don’t I? Will you spoil me with this big, horny cock, baby?”

He heaves a breath. “Fuck, Jill.” His muscles seize underneath me. “Fuck!”

This time, I have to capture his moans with my hand. I clap it over his mouth and rock my hips roughly, twisting and grinding down, feeling that hot geyser inside me, knowing I made him release that hard. Knowing I’ll always be the one who makes him release. Period. His lower body strains underneath me, his strong arms, shoulders and throat flexing, his eyes glimpsing some invisible heaven. And all I can do is watch him with gleeful adoration, stroking his beloved body with my palms, placing kisses on his shuddering chest, whispering words of praise. Love.

“Jill!” shouts my mouth from downstairs and we both sigh.

I place a final kiss over Zach’s heart and smile. “This was way better than homecoming.”

Still panting, he raises an eyebrow at me. “I’m sorry. Did you think we weren’t still going?”

“We are?”

He climbs to his feet with my legs still locked around his waist, giving me a slow, thorough kiss on the mouth. “Get dressed.”

They can probably hear my squeal of excitement in China.

* * *

Zach

We’re late to the dance.

And yet, no one is on the dance floor when we walk in to the dark gymnasium. In fact, everyone looks kind of bored, staring at their phones and chatting at the round tables situated at the edges of the gym.

Jill’s fingers are twined with mine, her head leaned against my arm.

When she came down the stairs in the green gown, her blonde hair up in some fancy twist, I almost swallowed my tongue. I’m still in disbelief that I live in a world where Jill Harding is my girlfriend. But I do. She makes me believe it a little more with every second that passes. Every time she squeezes my hand or smiles at me or tells me she loves me, I grow a little more rooted in this new reality.

And in this new reality, we don’t give a crap what anyone thinks.

We’re only here for each other.

So we don’t glance to the left or right as we walk to the dance floor.

Vaguely, I hear Harper let out a little cheer, but I can’t look away from the girl holding my hand. She’s glowing, even though her eyes are still a little puffy from the tears I caused. I’ll never make her cry again, though. Not unless they’re happy tears—and I hope there are going to be plenty of those.

No. I’ll make sure there are.

We find the middle of the dance floor and Jill twines her arms behind my neck, her face angelic in the flashing lights. I pull her close and press my lips to her forehead, uncaring about the gasps and whispers coming from the tables surrounding us. We just sway to the music, becoming more and more oblivious to anything but each other.

“Isn’t it exciting? We have our whole senior year ahead of us. Then college.” She goes up on her toes and kisses me sweetly, nuzzles our noses together, before pulling back and regarding me with sparkling if slightly worried eyes. “Where do you think you’ll go?”

I shake my head. “Wherever you’re going, Jilly Beans.”

Epilogue

Zach

Four years later

It’s halftime of the football game.

We’re in the locker room, listening to a pep talk from the coach, though it’s hardly necessary, since we’re up by thirty points. No way I was letting anyone past me tonight. When I told my coach the plan for halftime of tonight’s game, his only condition was that we be ahead by a significant amount—and I’ve made it happen.

Now, I turn the ring box over and over in my helmet, mentally reciting the words I’m going to say when I ask Jill to marry me. I’ve been wanting to ask her my whole life, so I should know the damn speech by now, but she deserves perfection. I’m going to give it to her.

God knows she’s given it to me.

The rest of our senior year of high school was…risky.

Living in our parents’ homes while being completely obsessed with each other posed a lot of issues. And frequently led to me fucking Jill against the side of her house in the middle of the night, desperately trying not to wake the neighbors or her parents. Or in the locker rooms during school hours. Or in the bed of my truck under the open sky.

When we moved into an off campus apartment freshman year of college, the obsession never ebbed, it only grew, but at least we didn’t have to sneak around anymore. They gave me a full football scholarship, so my college fund went toward renting our one-bedroom and thank God. I couldn’t have dealt with another second of sleeping apart from Jill.

My coach gives me the nod to leave the locker room and my teammates bash my pads as I walk by them, others high fiving me. They all know what’s about to happen, because they’re my friends—and friends are a lot easier to make now. My heart is the same as it was four years ago, but my self-confidence has grown exponentially. I don’t look at my large body as a negative now. How could I when the most perfect girl on the planet begs for me to pleasure her with it on a daily basis? No, it’s all positive now. This body is why I’m getting a free education, which in turn allows me to live with Jill. It’s part of me.

And it’s not the only thing about me, it’s just how I look.

I’m also studying to be a teacher.

I discovered my knack for teaching kind of by accident. Our first year in college, Jill was nervous about how she’d perform academically. It turned out that all she needed, all this time, was the right tutor. Of course, it took us hours to get through a minimal amount of work because she liked to get rewarded for right answers with kisses. Which always led to more, since I liked to give those kisses between her legs.

She loves learning now.

Plus, we realized I had good ways of simplifying concepts. Now my major is education and Jill’s is, too, although her goal is to be a cheer coach. And she’ll do it, because she’s my amazing, talented, beautiful, enthusiastic girlfriend and she can do anything.

Even make a guy like me see himself as a king, instead of a monster.

Now I’ll make her my queen.

The crowd cheers when I walk out onto the field, although there are some confused murmurings when my team doesn’t walk out behind me. The cheerleading squad is on the far sideline, drinking water after finishing their halftime performance. And I don’t have to search hard to find Jill across the field. Even if she wasn’t wearing her signature big, red bow, I would know her location blind. Her heart…it reaches out and pulls me in. She’s my other half, the keeper of my soul, the love of my life.

When I stop behind her on the sideline, Jill’s friends start to elbow her, alerting her to my unexpected arrival, so I don’t waste any time getting down on one knee.

The stadium roars, whistles piercing the night, phones flashing.

Jill turns, brow quirked, and sees me. Sees the ring box in my hand. She stumbles back a little, pompoms flying to her cheeks. She mouths my name and then she’s already nodding yes, moisture pooling in her eyes.

Yes.

She’s already saying yes?

That means…I can’t lose. God, she’s going to be my wife. I can’t believe it.

As planned, one of the sound technicians hands me a microphone and I speak directly into it, clear and steady. “Jillian Harding, I’ve loved you my whole life.” I have to speak louder over the excited noise the crowd is making. “It’s not only a privilege to love you, but you made me love myself, too, when I didn’t know how. I’d be honored if you’d be my wife and spend your life with me. Laughing, having kids, growing old. Let’s do it all together.”

I open the ring box and she holds out her shaking hand, allowing me to slide the teardrop diamond, surrounded by emeralds, onto her finger.

She takes the microphone and says an emphatic, “Yes!” into the top, that single word winging its way around the stadium and sending people into a frenzy. With my heart about to burst out of my chest, I stand and lift her into my arms, twirling her in a circle, her mouth latched onto mine. And I know the next seventy years are going to be heaven. Because I’ve got my angel and I’m never letting her go.

“I love you, Zach,” she sobs.

“I love you, too, Jilly Beans.”

THE END

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