Deviant by Rowena

Author:Rowena [Rowena]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance
Published: 2014-10-17T16:00:00+00:00

7

JASON & CALLA

JASON

We brush our teeth upon awakening, and chat for an hour or two before Calla suddenly tells me to lay down on the mattress as she stands next to it.

“Did Scott ever mention a Jesse to you?” she asks as I do as I am told, eager to plop myself on that decadent mattress still holding her scent. I position the pillows around me.

She caught me by surprise with her question—it seemed out of left field. We had been talking about the old days today—when it was just the two of us, and we were on the cusp of adolescence. We had laughed about an incident where I had tried to inveigle her in talking shit about our math teacher while in class. Calla was such a good girl, even then. She pretended like she didn’t hear my whispered jokes, but I saw the corner of her mouth tilt up.

I guess that’s why she figured it was safe to bring up Jesse—it almost felt like we were in junior high again, before Scott’s introduction to her life. We were buds.

But she still didn’t bypass my guy code. I can’t lie to her, but I don’t have to tell her the whole truth, either. Besides, I can’t bear to see Calla sad. Plus, we were having such a good time reacquainting ourselves with the younger versions of us. I figure all the reminiscing made her feel more comfortable about giving me that massage, which she’s about to do. She places her soft hands on my back, and I already relax a little from her gentle touch. But I am still alert.

“Oh, that chick from his class?” I say. “Scott’s kind of yappy in general—he’s like a girl, sometimes.”

She taps my back in some semblance of a playful slap. Then her slender fingers start making circles on my back.

“So I’ve heard about Jesse, Chris, Lisa, James…” I continue. The palm of her hand skillfully kneads my muscles. “Can’t tell you a thing about them—I blank out sometimes when he’s going on about this or that.”

It seems she’s letting me get away with being vague. But then she says, as her hands continue to move deliciously over me, “Is she pretty?”

“She’s all right,” I say honestly, hoping she doesn’t ask me where I saw her. Scott had texted me a pic. “Nowhere near as pretty as you,” I say as I flipped over, successfully shocking her into extended silence. Her hands pull back as if burnt now that she is suddenly faced with me laying on my back before her. She tries so hard not to scan my torso, but fails miserably.

“I guess that’s it, then,” she says.

I just stare at her.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she says eventually.

Truthfully, I’m just willing myself not to pull her on top of me—that’s all my body is screaming at me to do. My struggle is probably written all over my face. Sure, my brain has been partially occupied by trying

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