“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I muttered, kind of breathless, pushing him away. But only gently. “Slow down, Carter. You sure you want to do this, in your best friend’s bedroom, right now?”
He kissed my neck, right over the hickey Max had left, ignoring me completely.
“Yes,” he whispered, his voice husky. Damn. He was good at this too – almost as good as Max. I closed my eyes for a moment, just enjoying the feeling of his lips dancing over my skin, the feeling of his hard body pressed up against mine. His hot breath against my jaw-line, tracing in, slowly reaching my lips, and then –
“You guys coming down?” an annoying, loud voice came up the stairs.
Blondie.
I cussed mentally, but tried to stay cool.
“Do you want to go downstairs?” I asked, pushing him away for real.
“No,” he mumbled, but he linked his fingers through mine, and came with me as I walked to the door.
“Carter,” I said, my hand on the doorknob. “Max can’t know about this. Let’s keep this between us. It can be our little secret.”
His lips formed a cute little smile.
I leaned into him, gently pressing my lips against his, so softly we barely touched. Then I moved away.
“You go down first,” I whispered. “I’ll come a couple minutes later.”
***
And so I was back in the bathroom, in front of the mirror.
I was brushing my hair, working through the knots I’d gotten when Carter pushed me right up against the wall. I’m so used to my hair being like this – you know, after you’re pushed up against a wall/tree/wooden beam/a random stranger while making out, me and my (ex) best friends actually made up a name for it. Hook-up hair.
I lifted one side of my hair up, so I could brush through it better, and I saw something. I pulled up the other side of my hair. A hickey. It matched the one just above my cleavage perfectly.
Then I closed my eyes. It’s times like this, when a girl wonders if she’s really a slut.
***
“So what’s everyone doing?” I said, making my way through the big jumble of pizza and beer. I sat myself on the floor, opposite Blondie. She smiled at me, and winked, looking between me and Carter. Damn. How did she know? I’d covered up the hickey Carter had left with concealer, but did nothing with Max’s one. I was meant to make him fall for me, right?
“You okay?” Max asked, who next to me but higher up because he was in a chair, looking down at me worriedly. I almost semi-believed that he cared. He was too damn good of an actor. Players were like that. I would know. I was the best of the best.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said rubbing my now-pristine hair against his hand gently.
But why did it hurt to know that deep down, he didn’t really care?
I must be too sober.
I leaned in, and grabbed a beer, unconsciously let Carter have a view down my top. But I winked anyway. Innocent (well, sort of) flirting was my forte. And it was fun.
Tom and Ollie’s chatter faded off gently into background noise, mixing in with the hip hop music playing in the background, Blondie’s voice interrupted every so often. Carter joined in occasionally, his sarcastic comments making everyone laugh. Eventually, I lost track of the conversation. I didn’t care. I just drank, beer after cheap beer. I had to admit, even though expensive champagne had its pros, sometimes crappy, cheap beer was better. Even though it had way more calories.
I slumped against the chair, letting my mind drift away.
“Are you really okay?”
I looked up, and grinned at Max in the chair, the way drunk people usually grinned. You know. Drunkily.
“I is fine baby, hows you?”
“You’re drunk,” he said, smiling at me, drawling his words. “You sound weird.” He paused, and stopped, smirking a little. “Hey, maybe I’m a little drunk too.”
I don’t know why (maybe the adorable innocent little look on his face), but suddenly that seemed like the funniest thing ever. The whole world seemed funny. Everything was gone, the things I’d done with Carter that seemed so stupid now, the things I’d done with countless, faceless guys. It was all cancelled out. What the hell was making me feel like this?
I collapsed on the ground, clutching at my stomach laughing, my whole body shaking. Everyone else had stopped to look at me, and I knew my top was up, showing my secret belly-button ring.
“You know, Max?” I finally choked out. He pulled me up suddenly, so I was leaning into his chair. I propped myself up by holding onto his chair’s arms. I put my head very close to his, and looked into his gorgeous green eyes that sparkled like the emerald earrings I’d gotten for my twelfth birthday. He was hot, even when he was hammered. “I… really… think… I… do… like… y–”
And that’s when I passed out.
=Hailey=
“Wake up, idiot!” Max hissed. “Wake up! Finish that sentence! Finish it!”
Why did he want to know so bad? This was all just a game to him. He was playing Alexis like he was playing every other girl he’s gone out with. Why did he care?
“I think she’s out, man,” Tom had said helpfully. Duh! “You want me to take her home?”
“No,” Max sighed, grabbing Alexis by her back, and slinging her over his shoulder like some puppet. “I’ll do it.”
+Alexis+
My eyes opened a crack, but all I could see were blurry shapes…I would’ve been confused, but right now, I didn’t even care, I was so tired. All I know is, I’m in my bed.
Maybe it’s a dream, maybe not, but Max is here. Why would he be here, in my bedroom? It’s so dark, I can’t tell for sure, but I think Max kissed my forehead. I think he whispered something to me, something that’s very important. I have to remember what he said. I have to remember what he said…
I can’t forget.
***
“Morning!”
“Argh!” The sun had not gotten any dimmer, even though I had a massive hangover. How inconsiderate.
“You came in really late yesterday, Miss Alexis. Your Father will not be pleased.”
I swore at her. After all these years, did she really think I still cared?
No, I had more important things to wonder about. Like how I got here. What happened after I passed out…? I tried to go into my hazy drunken memories. How did I get here?
***
“Morning, Alexis!”
“Shh!” I hissed. My big sunnies weren’t helping. I had a killer head-ache. God, hangover’s a bitch. “Some people are still recovering here!”
“Sorry,” Ollie said, looking guilty. She should be. What did she expect when she yelled at someone who just entered a room wearing big sunglasses? God, get a clue, Ollie. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said, massaging temples. “You?”
“I’m okay. Did you get home last night?”
“Max drove me, and put me in bed.” I think. I can’t really remember.
“Okay. Guess what?”
I smiled, even though I was suffering intense pain from the noise around me. She’d obviously been desperate to tell me something since the moment I walked in. But why so much small talk?
“What?” I asked, playing along. “What is it?”
“I don't like Tom any more!” she said, grinning happily. My own grin slid off my face.
“Why?” And why the hell was she so happily cheery about it? I thought she liked him, and from the yesterday, I’m pretty sure he liked her as well. If I could read body language properly (and I can read body language properly. Believe me), then he was really into her.
“I like Carter.”
“What?!” I spluttered.
“Yeah, Carter! Before, I didn’t really like him, mainly because he was supposed to be this massive player, worse than even Max. But after you left yesterday, he was really nice, which sort of goes to show that you can't judge people. I don’t know if he likes me or anything, but if he makes a move, I’ll definitely go for it! It’s not just that though, he’s really funny, and I was like…”
Her voice drifted away into the background, as I stopped concentrating on her, but more on the person behind her, the guy lingering at our homeroom door.
Carter.
***
“Wait right here,” I said to Ollie. “I’m going to talk to Carter, and ask what he thinks about you.”
“Is he right behind me?” she asked, her eyes excited.
“Yeah,” I said, faking a smile. “Don’t turn around, though. Look cool.”
I left her staring at a wall.
“Carter, we have to talk,” I said, grabbing his arm and pulling him to my locker.
“That’s never good,” he said, looking serious. He wasn’t smiling like he normally did. “But actually, I kind of need to talk to you about yesterday. About what happened.”
“I do too. Why don't you start?”
“I know what you were going to say to Max,” he said grimly. “You were going to tell him you liked him, weren’t you?”
“What?” He wanted to talk about this? Was he jealous? “No…when was I…?”
“You said, ‘I… really… think… I… do… like… y–’,” he said, mimicking me really badly, making me sound like some deranged Barbie Doll. “And then you stopped.”
“Was that meant to be an imitation of me? Wow.”
“Don’t change the subject,” he snapped. He was really mad. “You were going to say that to him, weren’t you?”
“Carter,” I said, semi-soothingly and semi-impatiently, “look at these ginormous sunglasses. I only wear these when I have a hangover. I was very, very drunk last night. I had no idea what I was saying. It could have been Ollie I said it too, okay? Maybe even Blondie? It was co-incidence that it was him.” Was I lying? It felt like I was lying.
“Really?” he said, semi-smiling again.
“Yes, really.”
“You’re not kidding?”
“Would I kid you?”
“Okay then,” he said, grinning down at me. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
I looked at him, his innocent, sweet, cute (but HOT!) face.
“Nothing.”
I pulled his head down to my level (he was really tall), kissed his lips, and gave him a hug.
Then I saw Max.
Bad Girl 4, The Player, 2
***
Author's Note: Sorry upload is a bit late, but I had a concert yesterdays :) I will try and make it a double-upload tomorrow, and upload both Kidnapper and Supermodel. Love ya xx
As always, VOMMENT!!!