Eep Me Close

"You just need to do it already," CeCe leaned into me, the alcohol on her breath sharp alongside her

Sweet Like Candy

perfume. "Rip it off like a Band-Aid. Sex doesn't have to be a big deal, Ellie. You're just making it one."

I forced a smile, my heart pulsing over the thumping bass. My gaze ghosted over the writhing bodies and flashing lights. She didn't get it--how could she? CeCe had never been anyone's "little sister." She'd never known what it was like to be the quiet one in the background, constantly feeling like oil forced into a pool of water.

Sex wasn't just a box to check off a list for me. It was supposed to mean something. But "meaning something" wasn't working well for me either.

Maybe that's why I was here tonight--because I was tired of waiting. Tired of dreaming. Tired of being me.

"I'm just saying, you should lose it to someone hot. Like...him." CeCe pointed with her Solo cup to a guy celebrating his big win at the beer-pong table. He was short and muscled, with dark, wavy hair--obviously an athlete of some sort. A quarterback or a...ball...throwee-catchy-man, or whatever sports positions were actually called.

He was good-looking, in a non-conventional way. But even as his eyes strayed across the room, landing on me, and his mouth lilted, my stomach didn't squirm with the butterflies I needed. I didn't want Mr. Short, Dark and Handsome. I wanted... Well, it didn't matter who I wanted. That was never going to happen.

"Want me to go introduce you?" CeCe waggled her over-drawn eyebrows at me, her sequined top catching the light.

I shuffled my feet. "No, it's fine. I don't need--"

"Oh, come on," she cut me off. "You can't just stand here like a wallflower all night. I mean, you haven't even touched your drink."

My fingers tightened around my cup, something I'd only used as a prop for the last half hour. Slowly, I lifted it to my lips, cringing as the taste of what could only be gasoline burned down my throat. How could anyone drink this stuff?

"That's my girl," CeCe laughed when I spluttered out a cough. She took my cup and set it on a nearby table. "Come on. Let's dance."

"CeCe, wait--" I tripped over my borrowed heels as she pulled me across the room. If she thought I was awkward standing on two feet, she'd disown me once she saw me on the dance floor. I halfheartedly tried to yank my arm free while simultaneously pulling my dress down my thighs to make sure I wasn't inadvertently flashing the entire freshman class. What an iconic way to start off college that would be.

CeCe spun me around in the center of the floor, her body moving alongside the beat. Her hips rolled seductively, and her hands smoothed up her curves. Her hair rippled in a cherry-cola sheet down her back. She moved like confidence was hardwired into her DNA. I, on the other hand, probably looked like a fish out of water, flopping and floundering--a thing that needed to be put out of its misery. What was I supposed to do with my hands?

"Put your arms around my neck," CeCe took pity on me. "There you go. And then rock your hips like this." She placed both hands on my waist, guiding my body to flow alongside hers. She stepped closer, her full breasts pressing against mine, one leg slipping between my knees so we were flush together.

I glanced around. Several pairs of eyes had strayed to us, and a thrill ran through my body. Their stares weren't condescending. They were...appreciative. And okay, most of the looks were for CeCe, but still. By the third song, I couldn't help the smile spreading across my face. Tension melted as I threw my head back, feeling the music coursing through me, her warm body swaying with mine.

It wasn't long before our display brought around a group of guys, each jostling for a position behind us. Strong hands grabbed my hips, pulling me back against a hard body. I closed my eyes, letting this stranger direct my movements. It was better this way. If I couldn't see him, I could imagine he was anyone. Even...

No, he was exactly the reason I was here. I needed to forget about Hayden.

My eyes flew open when CeCe's hand loosened from mine. "Wait, where are you going?" I reached for her, but she slipped free, weaving through the crowd. My stomach knotted as I spotted the guy she was heading toward--a smug-looking jerk waving a baggie of white powder like bait.

Panic shot through me. "CeCe, you can't!" She was wild, sure--reckless even. But drugs? That was too far, even for her.

She turned on her heel, waving me off with a smile. "Relax, Ellie," she called back. "It's a party. Go have some fun!"

"CeCe!" I tried to follow her, but the press of bodies slowed me down. It was all I could do to avoid face-planting in these stupid heels. I spun around when I reached the dance floor's edge. No CeCe anywhere in sight.

Heading into a quiet corner, I pulled out my phone, sending her a text when she didn't answer my call. Her Instagram was already filled with pictures of the party. One shot caught me in the background, drink in hand, looking as awkward as I felt. Great. I made a mental note to untag myself later, just in case. Thank God my brother eschewed all things social media. If Adam saw me now...

"Hi," a quiet male voice sounded behind me, and I jumped when a hand touched my lower back. Mr. Short, Dark and Handsome was smiling at me, his teeth glowing under the blacklight. "I'm Ian. You must be CeCe's friend," he said.

I nodded, unable to find my voice. Why was it I got all tongue-tied around guys? I wasn't even interested. Not really. I mean, I guess he was attractive, and maybe most girls would even call him hot, but...

"Do you...want me to grab you a drink?" he asked with a frown. Clearly, he was trying to figure out if I was slow. Or maybe up close, he finally realized I didn't belong here.

"Um," I fiddled with the ends of my ash-brown curls, a nervous tick I'd never been able to shake. "I don't really drink."

"Alright, then, how about we go somewhere quiet." His eyes dipped down my legs, and a lazy smile spread across his face. "So we can...talk."

God, I should have just stayed home. This whole night was a terrible idea. Who was I kidding coming here? I'd much rather be curled up in bed, rereading the final installment of

The Dark Tower

series for the hundredth time, comfy in a pair of sweats. At least Roland never had to deal with best friends ditching him for drugs--or dodge drunk guys who thought muscles and winks made them irresistible.

"Actually, I think I'm going to--" My eyes slipped over his shoulder, and my stomach flip-flopped as my gaze fell on a tall figure across the room.

No. It couldn't be...

Hayden?

Nerves exploded in my chest, and I smoothed a hand down the front of my dress. What was he doing here?

Even in the party's flashing strobes, he stood out like a beacon. His golden hair gleamed under the lights, tousled in a way that was so perfectly Hayden. His fitted jeans sat low on his hips, and his winter coat made him look even more enormous, a stark contrast to the slight fabrics and bare skin all around us.

God, I couldn't stop looking at him. The strong line of his jaw, the way his broad frame filled out his clothes, the hint of scruff shadowing his cheekbones. His bright blue eyes were sharp and restless, scanning the room like he was hunting for something--or someone.

The crowd shifted, and his gaze landed on me.

A jolt ran through my body as our eyes locked. His mouth tightened, his jaw ticking, and for a moment, I thought he might march straight over. I suddenly felt foolish in CeCe's bodycon dress and sky-high heels. Like a little girl playing dress up.

Ian's hand slipped from my arm to my waist. He was saying something, and I forced my attention away from the man across the room.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" I asked politely.

He leaned in. "I said I'm going to kiss you now."

"Um..." Did I want this guy to kiss me? Thirty seconds ago, I might have said yes. He was the perfect distraction. Someone to make me forget about

him

.

My eyes fell to Ian's mouth--full and probably soft--but another's filled my mind--its cupid's bow overexaggerated, the lower lip slightly plumper than the upper.

A mouth that was always lifting in a crooked smile.

Lips that had been warm and sweet against mine.

Oh, who was I kidding? I could never forget about Hayden. He was my brother's best friend. And I'd been in love with him for years.

But I was just a little sister to him. He didn't want me.

I'd learned that lesson the hard way one summer when easy laughter and the feel of his hand lingering on mine had given me the courage to go for the kiss. It was quick and clumsy--a shy press of my lips against his. My heart had soared for three wonderful seconds before his hands came up to push me away.

It had been my first kiss--and he hadn't kissed me back.

"Maybe when you're older, El,"

he'd said, his voice rough and husky.

"Maybe when you're eighteen."

It had been easier to deal with when I was still in high school and living at home. But now that college had started and I'd moved into Adam's spare room, Hayden was inescapable. He was always at the house--helping my brother work on his car in the mornings, playing Xbox with him in the evenings, sometimes even crashing on the couch when a custom restoration project kept him late at the garage.

It always caught me off guard when I'd get out of the shower and find him sitting on the sofa, his gaze lifting as I passed by in my towel. Once, I'd almost convinced myself his eyes had lingered on my bare legs, the heat of his stare leaving my skin on fire. It had been enough to spark the kind of fantasies I couldn't stop from indulging in. Most of them involving him sneaking into my room late at night, his body warm and solid as he slipped into my bed. Or cornering me in the bathroom, ripping the towel from my still-wet skin. Or sliding up behind me in the kitchen, his hands finding my waist as I reached for a glass of water in the dark.

I'd lay in bed, listening to his voice on the other side of the wall, and my hand would dip beneath my sleep shorts, my fingertips stroking my damp panties. My nipples would harden, straining against my tank top as my breath came quicker, and I'd have to stifle my moans in my pillow to keep from crying out his name when my orgasm finally took me.

I'd wanted Hayden to be my first. And for some stupid reason, I'd never been able to give up that dream, no matter how unrealistic it was.

Ian's low chuckle snapped me back. "Oh, don't play coy now. A dress like that?" His eyes dragged down my body, and his grip tightened on my waist. "You didn't come here to play shy. Let's get you a drink, hmm?"

"You know what, Ian?" I placed my hands on his chest and shoved him back a step. "As tempting as that offer is, I think I need to be...elsewhere." Without waiting for a response, I brushed past him, heading for the door.

But Hayden wasn't there anymore.

I whipped around, scanning the crowd for his shaggy blonde head. Bodies jostled me as I stepped through a game of what looked like an X-rated version of spin-the-bottle and pushed past a gaggle of topless girls doing body shots. I climbed onto a vacant chair, my heels thunking on the metal seat. The height gave me a view of the entire room, but I couldn't see him anywhere. I shielded my eyes, searching through the cluster of guys chugging fishbowl cocktails through snorkels, glancing over the dance floor, which had pretty much turned into one giant orgy, and...was that naked guy trying to pee into a cup from a handstand?

But where was Hayden?

And then I saw him--back by the couches where the pot smokers had taken up refuge. His silhouette was nearly lost in a haze of smoke, tall and broad-shouldered, backlit by a flickering TV displaying a woman getting Eiffel Towered by two black guys who had probably won world records for their monstrous-sized dicks.

I sighed in relief and started to climb off the chair--until I noticed he wasn't alone. My breath hitched.

A girl was plastered to his front, stretched on her toes with her arms looped around his neck. Her full breasts were pressed against his chest, and his hands hovered awkwardly near her elbows. I froze, my gut squeezing as I took in their locked lips. And then my eyes fell to her cherry-cola, waist-length hair.

CeCe.

My stomach dropped. Oh my God, he was kissing CeCe...

Tears welled in my eyes, and I turned away before they could catch me watching.

I didn't know why I was so mad. He was free to kiss whomever he wanted. It's not like he had any idea how I felt about him--nor did Cece. Neither had done anything wrong.

So why did it feel like my chest was caving in?

I wove through the crowd, past the body painters slathering each other in neon colors. The guy on the end looked up and offered me his brush, pointing to his back. I ignored him, tripping over a paint can in my rush to get away. I stumbled, throwing out a hand, and a strong arm wrapped around my waist before I could fall.

"Hey, why'd you run away?"

Disappointment curled in my gut as I looked up to find it wasn't Hayden holding onto me but Ian, his eyes bloodshot and a sloppy grin stretching his lips. What did I expect? Hayden was too busy tongue-wrestling my best friend. I sniffed, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand.

"You in a hurry or something?"

"No, it's just...these damn shoes." I looked down and sighed. Neon green paint had splattered across the patent leather. CeCe was going to kill me. Well, too bad. She'd already gotten a better consolation prize. I held Ian's shoulder as I slipped the straps off my heels and threw the ruined shoes onto a nearby couch. Good riddance.

"I think you got some on your dress, too," Ian said with a wink. "Should probably take that off, huh?"

He stepped closer, his hand dipping dangerously close to my ass, but I couldn't concentrate on him. I couldn't stop seeing them--Hayden and CeCe locked together in a cloud of smoke. My hands shook, and I stuffed them into my armpits. Hayden obviously didn't think

she

was too young for him. That meant the problem was...me.

"Good thing I was here to catch you," Ian continued. "Wanna take me upstairs and give me a proper thank you?"

I opened my mouth, but my biting retort died on my lips. I was tired of feeling small. Tired of being overlooked. Left behind. Waiting for something--someone--I could never have. It was CeCe who had convinced me that coming out tonight was a good idea. That the best way to get over a guy would be to get out there and taste-test the available flavors.

When Ian's hand slipped over my ass, squeezing my right butt cheek, I should have been offended. I should have shoved him away. Told him to get lost. But something else emerged beneath the anger and hurt--an overwhelming need to do something stupid and reckless.

"Fine," I blurted. "Let's go."

The surprise that flickered in his eyes was brief, replaced almost immediately by triumph. "Well, that was easy," he laughed. "Second door on the left. I'll grab us some drinks and meet you upstairs." He slapped my ass and then disappeared into the crowd.

I wound my hair around my palm as I ascended the steps. Music and laughter roared behind me, but the sounds were muted and dull now. I gripped the banister, its smooth surface sticky under my fingers. My breath came faster as I finally reached the landing and walked past the first room where muffled yelps and moans bled through the walls. I paused at the second door, my fingers trembling as I pushed it open.

Stepping inside, I looked around the space that would forever be ingrained in my memory. A bed was pushed against the far wall, and rumpled sheets were balled against the headboard. Dirty clothes were slung across the ground and furniture. The place smelled musty, like sweaty socks left to marinate in an old gym bag. I nudged an empty condom wrapper with my toe, wishing I still had my heels on. I twisted my hands together and blew out a shaky breath.

The nerves I expected, but a strange hollowness filled me where excitement should have been. I'd been waiting for this day for what felt like years. Ever since I'd walked in on Hayden changing in the guest room when I was fourteen.

Everything about this night felt wrong.

But I wasn't a kid anymore. And Hayden wasn't meant for me. It was time to let go of my ridiculous fantasy.

Footsteps sounded behind me, and I wheeled around.

"Sorry, long line. The only ones I could find were warm." Ian sloshed liquid onto the floor as he attempted to balance two cups in one hand while latching the door shut with the other.

I blinked when he flicked the light switch with his elbow. The room fell into darkness. He dropped onto the bed, patting the space beside him. As I lowered myself to the mattress, I suddenly felt tongue-tied. Awkward in my body. These clothes were all wrong. The setting. Lighting. But every time I thought about bailing, CeCe's tongue down Hayden's throat ran through my mind.

"I'm not...really sure how to start," I admitted.

"Let's start with a drink. It'll help loosen you up."

I took the cup he proffered. But I didn't feel like drinking. I held it in my lap, my fingernails scraping the red plastic.

"And now, about that kiss..." He grinned, his teeth white and sharp as he hummed the

Jaws

theme under his breath. "Duh-duh. Duh-duh..." Then he dove in, his lips smooshing into the corner of my mouth. I tried not to choke as he held my chin in place, his tongue slithering down my throat like a wriggling eel. He tasted like beer and cigarettes.

The kiss felt...fine, I guess--but something just seemed...wrong.

Because he's not the right person.

I shook the thought away when his hand settled on my thigh, his skin unnaturally hot against mine. It was ridiculously stuffy in here. Why was I so uncomfortable?

CeCe's words rang through my head:

No girl cums her first time. Think of it like a practice run. It'll hurt. Be awkward. But the next time? That's when the real fun begins.

I cringed when his tongue darted into my ear. It felt like I was back in first grade, being subjected to Jean Simmon's endless wet willies. Was this supposed to be sexy?

"Ian, wait," I tried to twist away. "Maybe we could just...talk for a sec?"

"'S okay," he slurred. His breath was hot against my cheek, sour and reeking of stale alcohol. "You don't have to be nervous. Why don't we get you out of this dress, hmm?"

His fingers pulled the zipper at my side, and its metallic rasp sliced through the quiet. Cool air brushed my back as the tight fabric released me, but somehow, I only felt more suffocated. My stomach churned when he pulled the dress up over my head.

"You are so fuckin' hot," Ian said. His hand roamed over my bare ribs, his palms rough and clammy. He fiddled with my bra's clasp, swearing when it didn't give way to his tugging.

My skin crawled. All I could think about was how badly I wanted this to be over.

Suddenly, the door flew open, crashing against the back wall with enough force to rattle the ceiling. A broad figure filled the doorway, a shadow in front of the hallway's harsh fluorescent light. I shot to my feet, scrambling to cover myself, searching frantically for my dress, but Ian had tossed it across the room.

Hayden stepped inside, looking massive in his winter coat, his shoulders tense and his hands clenched into fists. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, and his jaw was set like stone. His hair was a shaggy mess, as though he'd been raking his fingers through it in frustration.

"Let's go, Ellie," Hayden growled. His bright blue eyes burned as they zeroed in on Ian.

He didn't look at me, even while I was half-naked in front of him. Not a glance. Maybe if I had a body like CeCe's--full breasts and curvy hips--he would look. But I was just me--thin and long-legged with breasts just shy of a B-cup. No wonder he didn't want me.