Chasing Vivi(35)

"I envy your relationship with your grandparents."

His expression immediately softens. "They're amazing. I only wish I had  lived with them for longer than I did." Then he clams up again.

"College?"

A raspy chuckle comes from him. "You weren't there to do my homework. Take a guess at how long I lasted?"

"A year?"

"I'm not that much of an idiot."         

     



 

I wince. That wasn't very nice. Scooting back, I pull my knees to my chest. "Oops. Sorry," I murmur.

"You shouldn't be. It wasn't that smart of a move to have you constantly do my homework in high school."

"But I didn't do all of it." Why am I coming to his defense?

"You did most of it. Well, in the classes we shared anyway. I could've  never passed physics or calculus. Or those other classes for the super  brilliant kids you were in."

"Oh, shut up. You were just intellectually lazy."

He barks out a laugh. "Intellectually lazy. That's a good way to put it.  The truth is I hated school. I couldn't stand those asshole teachers  telling me what to do. And by the way, I'm no longer intellectually  lazy, for your information."

He's right about the teachers. Many, though not all, of them had a  superior attitude. "Good to know. But if you think the teachers were  assholes to you, you should've walked in my shoes. That's why I studied  so hard."

"What do you mean?"

"They looked down their noses at me, because I didn't have money like  the rest of you did. I had to prove my worth through my brains. At least  you had the proper financial means." If I had known how much money  Prescott actually had back then, I would have never associated myself  with him. "Me, I was on the level of the maintenance man. God, I hated  that place."

"Was it really that bad?" Disbelief coats his tone.

"Every teacher, even the principal, knew those girls bullied me, and not  a single one of them did anything about it. My locker was vandalized  every single day. It got so bad I started carrying around all my books  with me so I wouldn't have to go there anymore. How could they not  notice the nasty words, day after day, written across my locker? No one  else's had awful things on them." Then I explain something else. "And  here's another little tidbit of information. I should've been named  valedictorian. My grades were higher every semester than Evan  Chandler's. But when I questioned the administration about it, asked for  proof, they said I was wrong. This isn't me being petty. I know it for a  fact because Evan and I were in almost every class together and the  ones we weren't, I aced. So how did he magically come up with a higher  GPA?"

"Jesus. Those bastards went that far?"

There's no reason to answer, so I shrug. "Turns out we both hated it there and didn't know it."

"I didn't hate all of it. I met my two best friends there and am still  closer to them than anyone. Well, except my grandparents."

"Who?"

"Do you remember Weston Wyndham and Harrison Kirkland?"

"Oh, yeah." Fuck, how could I have forgotten that? The three of them  were inseparable. And the hottest guys anywhere. No wonder they got away  with everything.

"What's that look?" he asks. "You're scowling."

"No, I'm not."

"Vivi, I know a scowl when I see one."

I tuck my hair behind my ear and paste on a smile.

"I'm not."

"Okay, you're not anymore. But you were. Don't you like either of them?"

"No, it's not that. I don't really know them."

"So?"

"Nothing." He is not going to wheedle a thing out of me, including my  thoughts that they were just a bunch of spoiled rich kids, too.

"Let me just say this, and we'll drop it. Weston and Harrison are both  stand-up guys. They would have my back in any situation-any kind at all.  And whatever it is you heard about them, if it was bad, it was most  likely false."

The strength of his tone and his adamancy has me believing him. I nod. "Fine, but I really don't have a problem with them."

"Did they make fun of you at Crestview?"

Sighing, I say, "I don't remember. The girls were the ones who were the  meanest. Can we drop this? It doesn't matter anymore. All this happened  years ago. I hated it there, but it's over. I have no intention of ever  going back for a reunion  or anything, so what's the purpose?"

He lifts and lowers one shoulder. "I don't know. Maybe I want to make sure my best friends didn't harass you."

"You'll have to ask them. When you're overweight in junior high and high  school, everyone makes fun of you, so it all sort of blends together."  It's strange that he's suddenly become so concerned about this.

His brows bunch at the bridge of his nose. He gives me a slight nod, but  the creases remain. Then he blurts, "I  …  I need some space."         

     



 

He jogs up the flight of stairs and disappears from view. I sit and  wait, thinking he'll reappear. But I'm wrong. An hour passes and he  never returns. Eventually, I go to the huge empty bedroom, alone, and  wonder how I'll sleep in there without him to comfort me.





Chapter 23





Prescott





A fissure has formed within me and it's ripping me in half. One side  wants to reveal every tiny detail about myself to Vivi, but the other  wants to punt and run like the wind. And isn't that exactly what I just  did? Now I'm wearing out a path in the carpet, because I can't relax  enough to get into bed. Guilt practically has me running back down those  steps, because I know she's afraid to sleep alone, but I can't find it  in myself to do so.

Why don't I just tell her about me? It's not that big of a deal. Only  the voice inside me screams out that it is. It will show her just how  weak of a man I am.

I cram my hands into my pockets to stop them from shaking. What the hell  was I thinking when I brought her here? I should've known this would  happen. Vivi is astute, much more than most. She'll see right through  me.

There's not a chance in hell I'll be able to sleep being this tense. The  best thing I can do now is hit the treadmill. My problem is I don't  have any running clothes up here. Maybe I have something in the gym. I  head in there to check and find a pair of shoes and some shorts hanging  on a hook, so I don't waste time in stripping.

Sticking in my earbuds, I crank up the volume to drown out any remote  possibility of thinking, and set the machine at a grueling  six-and-a-half-minute mile pace. Fifty minutes later, I'm calm and  levelheaded. Or at least I think I am, until the music stops playing.  Vivi's face instantly pops into my mind the moment it does and dammit if  I'm not back to square one.

A hot shower might calm me down, so I head there. Maybe if I rub a quick  one off, that will help too. God knows she's all I think about anyway.  Ever since I entered that coffee shop, things south of the Mason Dixon  line have been in a constant state of inflexibility.

Stepping into the warm spray, it cascades over my skin, rinsing the  sweat of my workout off. After I soap up and rinse off, my cock screams  for attention. The ache in my balls has been there for at least a solid  month now. Any time I've thought of easing it with another woman, a sour  taste spreads in my mouth. I've never been one to feel particularly  faithful toward anyone, likely because I've never been committed to a  woman. But somehow Vivienne Renard has fucked up my life and ruined it  for any other piece of ass. No more pussy-whoring for this man, unless I  can get her out of my system, and the only way I see doing that is to  fuck her. She seems in, but if I do, she'll want more than just a quick  fuck. And I have a real bad feeling I might, too.

My hand squeezes tightly over my dick, pumping up and down, imagining  how it would feel if this were Vivi's pussy. Warm and wet, tight and  slick. I imagine her moaning as I thrust harder and harder, hitting her  in the spots that set her off. Jizz shoots up and covers my fist just as  the hot water rinses it away. Oddly, I'm not satisfied. The ache in my  balls has only eased temporarily. It still lurks in the depths of me,  seeking a permanent release, and my hand isn't the answer it's looking  for. The solution lies in my bed, downstairs, where I left her. And  aren't I the brave guy, standing here, naked in the shower, with my dick  in hand?

Disgust coats me as I turn off the water. Every possible solution I come  up with is shot down by my logic. After I dry off, I climb into bed,  frustrated as ever, and know that sleep will be as attainable as going  to the moon.

The room eventually turns gray, then brightens, and I climb out of the  bed that should've brought me comfort. Instead, all it held for me was a  night of sheer annoyance. And I only have myself to blame.

After another quick shower, I run down the steps and tiptoe into the  bedroom, hoping not to disturb Vivi. At least one of us should be able  to sleep. But when I walk into the room, my beeline for the closet is  halted by her voice.