Good Boy by Megan Lowe

Chapter 28

“I’m so boooooooooooooooooooooooored,” Chloe whines at lunch, a week after the Stan’s incident.

Neither Thomas nor I have brought up what was said, both of us acting as if nothing happened.

“Why don’t you have a party?” Thomas suggests. Things with Thomas are… a little weird, if I’m being honest. I don’t know what he wants. I don’t know what his endgame is and where he’s going with it. I don’t know why he did what he did and I’m too chickenshit to ask him about it. Then there’s Cav, who despite everything, despite trying my hardest, I still can’t get out of my head. Yes, I want him to leave me alone, to stop his bullying, but I also want him want him. And that’s probably the most fucked up thing. How can I want someone who is so horrible to me? What does that say about me?

Chloe sits up. “A party?” she asks.

Thomas takes a sip of water. “Yeah, you know, where you invite people over to your house and there’s drinking and dancing and more than a few couples will get it on in your bedrooms or a convenient dark corner.”

She rolls her eyes. “I know what a party is.”

“Then why’d you ask what it was?” I question.

“I didn’t.”

“Sure you did,” I say, trying to hold my laughter in. It doesn’t work.

“You guys suck,” she says as we all laugh and throws a bottle cap at me.

“It was too easy,” I tell her. “So what do you think?”

She tilts her head. “Yeah, okay. I suppose I could do a party.”

Thomas and I smile at each other. I don’t know where things are going with him, but I guess I have to play along. I’ve come this far and Jase is involved now. I guess if I want him to get out of this, I have to go along with whatever Thomas has planned.

“My house, Saturday night.”

Chloe’s house is insane. I’ve seen some incredible houses, but this has to take the cake.

“Holy shit,” I say when I walk in.

“Right?” Thomas asks.

We wade through the flood of humanity, going through the front room, kitchen, basement, backyard, and pool house before eventually finding Chloe and some random girl in the indoor pool area. Even though the party is raging outside, we’re the only ones who seem to have found this little oasis.

“Why do you have an indoor and outdoor pool?” I ask Chloe when we find them.

She shrugs. “I don’t know. Probably because of the sheer excess of it. The Fontana’s always have to have the best, be the best. Apparently that means two pools.”

“Huh,” I reply.

“Come on in,” she says, beckoning us into the water.

I look to Thomas, and we both shrug, stripping down to our boxers and getting in.

“This house is insane,” I tell Chloe. Her lips are stuck to the other girl’s neck, her hand inside her bikini top.

“Thanks. Here,” she says, coming up for air. She pushes over a floating drink bucket. “Help yourself.”

We spend the night laughing, talking, drinking, splashing, and generally having fun.

“I think I’m a little tipsy,” the girl, who we haven’t been introduced to, and obviously won’t, says, finishing her wine cooler.

“Good,” Chloe says, “I like it when you’re looser.”

With that, they’re lost in a mess of tongues, and lips, hands wandering everywhere, eventually resulting in bikini tops being untied and bottoms sinking to the bottom of the pool. Thankfully, not that I get the feeling Chloe would care right now, we’re still the only ones in here.

“I, ah, think we should take this down there,” I tell Thomas, pointing to the other end of the pool as the moans increase from the girls.

“Er, yeah,” he says, transfixed.

I laugh and grab him, dragging him to the opposite end.

“Here,” I say, grabbing another beer and handing it to him.

“Thanks.” He twists the top of the bottle off and takes a long swig.

“Having fun?” I ask as I try to ignore the sounds the girls are making.

“Um, yeah,” he says, eyes on what’s happening down the other end.

“You can ask to join,” I tell him. “I’m not entirely sure Chloe would be all that receptive, but if the other girl was into it, she’d go along with it.”

He finally tears his eyes away. “Oh, um, no, that’s okay.”

“Are you sure?” I ask. “I don’t mind. I’ll even go and give you guys more privacy.” Truth be told, I’m kind of hoping Thomas will go down there. We still haven’t spoken about what happened at Stan’s. There have been a few more touches usually when Cav’s around, but I don’t know what he’s got planned or why he’s doing what he’s doing.

“No, that’s okay, I’m good, really.” He finishes his beer and takes another one.

“Are you sure? I don’t mind.”

He chuckles. “You trying to get rid of me?”

I shake my head. “N-No. I just thought that maybe you’d want to join in with them, they’re probably more fun than I am.”

He chuckles. “Oh, I think you’re plenty fun.”

“Is that why you’re pretending to like me?” I ask. Clearly I’ve gained some liquid courage tonight.

“Who says I’m pretending?”

“Come on,” I say. “It’s okay if you do, I just… want to know, you know, why.”

“Is it not enough that you’re a nice person and I like spending time with you?”

“Do you? Or are you only hanging out with me because of this thing you have with Cav.”

“You have a thing with Cav, too.”

I choke on the sip of beer I just took. How does he know what I have with Cav? Not that I have anything but…

“I-I don’t have anything with Cav.”

“So what would you call all the bullying he’s done?” Thomas asks. He tilts his head back, draining this one as well.

“Oh, yeah.” That. How could I forget? “I guess that’s a… thing.”

He laughs and moves closer to me. “Look, Connor, you’re a great guy, and I really do enjoy spending time with you, my vendetta against Cav notwithstanding.”

I shake my head and peel the label on my bottle of beer. This isn’t happening. Thomas can’t be falling for me. Can he?

He moves closer still. “You’re a great guy, Connor, truly. You’re a catch. Everyone who overlooks that is an idiot. Maybe I’ve been an idiot.” He grabs a third beer and downs this one too.

My head snaps up. “What do you mean?”

He cups my cheek. “I think, maybe, I’m falling for you.”

Blood rushes through my ears and I swear I’m about to pass out. “Y-You’re not gay.”

“Maybe I’m bi, or what do they call it? Pansexual? I fall in love with people regardless of gender.”

“You’re not in love with me,” I rebut.

“Maybe not, but I could be.”

I shake my head. “No, you couldn’t.” He can’t be. There is no way this is happening.

“Why can’t I?” he asks. “Because I used to like girls? Don’t people have epiphanies like this all the time? Why can’t I?”

“Because you’re Thomas Rose.”

“Uh-huh, and that means anything I want, I get.” He presses closer to me. “I want you.” He takes my face between his hands, his eyes zeroed in on my lips.

I feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience when his lips lightly brush mine, my hands frozen at my side.

Everything comes crashing down when the door smashes open, the sounds of the party filtering in.

Thomas kisses me once more before moving back. “Cav!” he says, arms outstretched. “You found us. Come join the real party.”

“So he can turn me into a poof too?” he spits, nodding at me. “I’ll pass.”

Thomas raises an eyebrow. “For the right person, anything is possible.”

“And Connor’s the right person?” he asks, jaw clenched, fists balled tight.

He shrugs. “Why can’t he be? He’s a great person. Funny, caring, a really great kisser. Seems like a catch to me. Anyone would be lucky to have him. Everyone should be fighting to have him. And now I’ve got him.” His head lolls to the side.

“Thomas, I think you’re drunk,” I tell him.

He burps, the beer fumes overwhelming.

I grab his arm and drag him toward the steps. “A little help here?” I ask Cav.

Eventually he makes his way over and offers Thomas his hand. Thankfully, Thomas is a cooperative drunk, taking it and getting out without question.

I follow him and grab two towels from a stack, handing him one. “Here,” I say as Cav helps him onto a deck chair where he promptly passes out.

I try not to breathe a sigh of relief.

“Really?” Cav asks, raising an eyebrow.

I hold my hands up. “I have no idea what that was. He just started saying all this stuff and then he… he kissed me.”

“Isn’t that what they all say?”

I shake my head. “You know I’m not interested in him.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. If it’s been a while, you might think any hole’s a goal.”

“Come off it, Cav,” I snap, my liquid courage clearly still going. “I have been more than clear about what and whom I want.”

“So have I,” he rebuts.

“Why are you here, Cav?” I ask.

“Maybe I wanted a little social interaction.”

“And you thought this would be the place for it?”

He shrugs. “Why not?”

I sigh and dry myself off. “What are you doing, Cav?” I ask.

“I should ask you the same question,” he says. “Thomas?”

“I told you, I had nothing to do with that.”

“Didn’t see you putting up much of a fight.”

“I was in shock! I don’t know what he’s doing either or why he’s doing it.”

Cav narrows his eyes. “You don’t know why he’s doing that, huh?” he asks. “You have no earthly idea?”

I shake my head. “No, I really don’t.”

“So you haven’t been telling him stories?”

“About what?” I ask. “About you? Why would I do that? I haven’t said anything this far, so why would I do it now?”

From the other end of the pool, the moans and screams increase. I grab Cav’s forearm and drag him into a room, which, upon turning on the lights, is a bathroom. I shut and lock the door behind us.

“I’m not getting caught in here with you,” he says, trying to get past me.

I put my hands on his solid chest and shove him. “For fuck’s sake, Cav, just talk to me! You wanted social interaction, here’s some social interaction.”

“But I didn’t want it with you,” he says.

I throw my hands up. “Of course you didn’t. You hate me. I get it. Sometimes the feeling is mutual. Why then, don’t you leave me alone? You’re the one who comes after me. Who slams me up against lockers, who beats me up in the cafeteria, who wrecks my fucking car. I have done nothing to you. But. You. Keep. Coming. Back. I want to know why, Cav. Why?”

He shuffles his feet.

I sigh. “Aren’t you tired?” I ask. “Aren’t you tired of hiding yourself? Pretending to be someone who you’re not?”

“You don’t know anything about me!” he yells.

“No?” I ask. “I bet I know some things your supposed BFF out there would love to know. He’s using me to get to you, you know.”

“Doesn’t look like you have a problem with it.”

Oh shit. I laugh. “Are you jealous?”

“What? No, of course I’m not.”

“It’s okay if you are. I’d be flattered, actually.”

“You’re delusional.”

“And you’re in denial. What a pair we make.”

“There is no ‘we’ here.”

I take a step closer to him. “There could be, if you wanted it.”

“Of course I don’t want it. Haven’t you been listening to me?”

“I’ve been listening. Haven’t you ever been told that those who protest the loudest have the most to hide?”

“I’m not hiding.”

I’m close enough to cup his face, so I do. “Yes, baby, you are.”

“Don’t call me that,” he pleads, his blue-gray eyes wide.

“I’ll call you what I want,” I say before taking his lips with mine. Almost immediately his mouth opens, his tongue battling with my own, but I quickly acquiesce, letting his tongue own mine. His arms come around my torso, pulling me to him, his body hard against my own.

“Shit,” he pants. “You do taste like whisky and apple pie.” He takes my mouth again.

I chuckle. “I thought I’d taste like beer and pretzels,” I say as his mouth moves down my neck, nipping, and sucking.

“That too.” He goes back to kissing me while I take the opportunity to explore his body. I run my hand down his chest, undoing the buttons on his shirt as I do. We both manage to get it off, exposing a golden torso covered in ink.

“Wow,” I say, taking a small step back to admire the works of art in front of me.

He shrugs. “You like what you see?”

I grab his hand and put it on my rock-hard cock. “What do you think?”

He drags me to him, his mouth owning mine once more, his hand dipping into my boxers.

“I’ve dreamed of getting my hands on this,” he says against my lips, running his hand up and down my length.

“So have I.” I fumble with his belt, eventually getting it undone, before lowering his fly, his impressive bulge pushing at the confines of his boxers.

I push his jeans and boxers down, his erection springing free.

“God, you’re even bigger in real life,” I mutter.

He laughs. “You say all the right things.”

“I want you,” I tell him.

He pulls back, and I freeze. Shit, did I take things too far? Is this the part where he cuts and runs?

His eyes sweep down my body, landing on my cock weeping precum. He licks his lips, and I swear to God, I almost lose it. Finally, he looks at me.

“You want me?” he asks.

I nod and swallow. “I do.”

He looks to the side and grabs a towel. He throws it on the floor at my feet, before kneeling in front of me. “You can have me, but only after I have my fill of you.”