Page 41 of Miss Behaved
Carson’s eyes dart to his dad’s house for only a millisecond before he says yes, and all those questions I have about the unspoken subject start swirling again.
Mom sits Carson and me on opposite sides of the table from each other, and I’m not sure what’s better: feeling the heat of his body next to me or having to stare at his face for the next hour.
His body heat, obviously.
But at least this way I catch how many times his eyes dart to mine over dinner. When I laugh, when I take a drink, when my foot accidentally finds his under the table. When I stare a little too long because the bob of his Adam’s apple drags me into fantasizing about how he’s growing up in all sorts of ways.
“Monica, salsa,” Aunt Juliet says, and it kicks me out of my daydream.
I grab the dish and pray I wasn’t staring at Carson. “Sorry.”
Dad narrows his eyes from across the table, watching me fumble with a dish of salsa, and it all but confirms I probably was. I feel like I was.
“Why do you keep looking at Monica?” my sister, Mercedes, says, turning in her chair to face Carson.
The age gap usually doesn’t bother me, her being seven years younger, but in times like this, when I’m faced with the fact that her filter has yet to develop, I want to crawl under a rock and die.
“Merry, stop it,” I tell her, kicking her shoe underneath the table.
She spins in her seat and grabs another tortilla. “I didn’tdoanything. He’s the one staring.” Her thumb juts at Carson, and I think I spot a blush before he dips his head to face his plate.
Dad passes a plate of carne asada around with a proud grin. “This here’s off my new beauty,” he says. “All four feet, two inches of her.”
“His grill,” I say to Carson, rolling my eyes. Dad’s obsessed with grilled meat. Breakfast, lunch, dinner. Rainstorm, snowstorm, sunny day. He’s out there with his one true love: the grill.
“It’s delicious, sir,” Carson says.
There’s thatsiragain. For someone who I know filled the principal’s car with shaving cream, someone who cusses up a storm on a regular basis, he sure doesn’t seem to have authority issues when it comes to my father.
“If you’re not careful, that beauty can get up to five hundred degrees,” Dad says with a pointed look at Carson. “You’re careful though, aren’t you, boy?”
There’s a definite threat veiled in there, and I’m not the only one who recognizes it. Carson swallows hard, and his Adam’s apple hypnotizes me again.
Dad trails off in conversation with Mom and Aunt Juliet about the features of his new grill, but Carson is careful to keep his eyes averted for the majority of dinner.
I can count the number of years I’ve been more than infatuated with Carson Calloway, starting with the moment I was old enough to look at a boy and see him as something more than a friend. And, while Dad is distracted and Carson chances a glance at me, I start to wonder. Maybe he’s finally taking notice.
17
Carson
Bigfatfuckingego,always getting in the way. Instead of having drinks and breakfast and trying to win Monica over, I’m pouting on my empty balcony.
God, I can really be an idiot sometimes.
But what was I supposed to do?All in good fun, she said, like we don’t have two decades of history. Like I’m just some guy for her to get her jollies off with.
Not that I should expect her to see me as anything else. And instead of sticking around to prove her wrong, what did I do? Left her with that douche Ry and told her to enjoy herself.
This woman is in my head. Under my skin.
I’m amped up from adrenaline, and the kiss did nothing to help the erection I’ve been sporting for the better part of the last three days. Maybe I’ll feel better if I finally just do something about it.
I climb out of my chair, head into my room, and lie down on my bed. If she wants me to get her out of my system, then that’s what I’ll fucking do.
My cock is so hard it hurts. I rub the back of my neck with my hand and remember what Monica’s soft body felt like grinding against me during that kiss. Her hands slipping down my stomach and tracing over every inch.
Unzipping my pants, I close my eyes and grab my solid erection, stroking it up and down as I imagine Monica’s soft skin nearly naked by the pool. What it would have felt like to pull her body against my aching dick. Tug the cups of her bra down to reveal two perfect buds. I can taste her in my mouth as I pull those hard peaks between my teeth. I imagine the noises that would fall from her lips. Frantic moaning. A gasp of surprise as I teach her how to really take a risk and unravel.
