"You're making this impossibly hard," I groaned into Ellie's mouth. In the cruelest payback to my teasing, her knees straddled my lap, and her breasts tickled my chest. I squeezed my hands into fists at my sides. She moved over me, and those soft lips swept a whisper of a kiss across my mouth.
Kissing Ellie was dangerously close to ruining me. Before her, a kiss was my enjoyment, a first step to the next level of physical satisfaction. Kissing Ellie made me want to slow down and appreciate how good kissing her felt until it became juggling sticks of dynamite while my hands were on fire. Her quiet squeaks and hums made my heart want to explode out of my chest. My blood surged faster from her sharp gasps for breath in between our mouths fused. A heady sensation coiled in my gut as our tongues connected and slid against each other. Ellie moaned when she straddled and rubbed my thigh, which shot surges of my blood into my gut. For the second time tonight, not coincidentally when Ellie was on my lap, my dick swelled on a mission to create an embarrassing sticky situation in my pants.
"I can tell," she teased with the most satisfied smirk and moved across me. The pupils in those beautiful brown eyes dilated with a mix of the same want that cursed me for this backfired idea. "Maybe you shouldn't have parked on the left side of the street."
"Maybe I like you climbing over me." My teasing earned me an eye roll. Ellie jumped down onto the sidewalk and left me with a stiff rejection. Literally.
I groaned at what every cell in my body now ached for. Fuck, her forward teasing was such a turn-on. She ignited feelings in me that made me want to snap my control. The internal aches of built-up pressure and the tented erection in my pants served as a painful reminder of how much time had passed since I'd felt this way.
"If you're having performance issues...Then I'll still love you."
The way her eyes stretched wide and lips parted, she hadn't meant those words seriously. But I knew, at that moment and again when she waved good night, that my feelings were painfully close to loving this girl. I'd never been in love, but I cared about her more than myself. That was part of it, right?
"Not the time to unpack that," I muttered.
Fuck, I thought I screwed up tonight when bringing up Ryder, but I was glad she was open to telling me the truth. I couldn't screw this up. Not after what she shared with me, and how it made me feel more than the need to fist out the insane pressure in my dick. By the hard-on I willed back down with ragged breaths, I did not have performance issues, but Ellie was more important than a one-night hookup. She was beautiful and sexy, not for her baggy sweatshirts and bare underclothes, but for her quiet self-assurance. Her body filled my mind with suggestions of what I could do with it, but she was smart, sharp, snarky, and... interesting. As I told her, she wasn't a short-term smash but a long-term investment.
At one point, I curled my hand around hers and watched her look at the ocean. The evening breeze dragged dark strands across her forehead. I brushed them aside with the awe of her being there with me.
I wasn't falling for Ellie. I was gone. The distance between our schools sucked, but she was the girl I wanted, no matter what. She unlocked feelings I didn't know I was capable of feeling. Feelings that led me to care more about her than myself. She very, very quickly turned me into a person that didn't feel like me.
Guess I was unpacking this. My heart hurt for her. The urge to console her, kissing her tears away and giving her soft, appreciative touches, wasn't me. Neither was an overwhelming need to fix how upset I made her, despite having no idea what the fuck to say.
I wasn't uncomfortable with how much Ellie affected me. Her depth sucked me in. Most high school kids were worried about the next party, homework assignment, or college entrance exam. Ellie confronted a soul-wrenching trauma with emotional depths past superficial shit. It made me look at my own life, where changes were needed.
Confronting Ellie's nightmares was harder than admitting my idiocy. I hated myself for ruining the peaceful, relaxed look, but she flinched when I touched her. The conversation topic was suffocating. While hearing her story, my heart paused mid-beat in my chest, my muscles locked up, and my internal organs no longer worked. I couldn't breathe. My mind went to dark places that I didn't know existed. Correction: that shouldn't exist.
Her shivers cut her off, but she didn't need to finish. That protective urge I'd never felt overwhelmed me. I pulled her into my lap and wrapped myself around her to comfort and protect her from her memory. Again, not me. Ellie released a soft squeak as I grabbed her hips and planted her on my lap. Her spine went from tense to rounded in a breath. Her cheek rested on my shoulder, and her hair tickled under my chin. Curling her into me, I wrapped my arms around her trembling frame.
The slow flickers of anger were dormant but still burned in me as she walked up her driveway six houses up. Mason's words, 'All things in all holes that won't get a girl pregnant,' were sick but true. What happened to Ellie hadn't changed how I felt about her, but it sure increased how I felt on her behalf. My blood boiled, every muscle in my body tensed, and my fists squeezed. I wanted to tear apart something, or better rearrange the internal organs of a guy I'd never met.
No wonder she was jaded against football players. I hated the association, but who could blame her? Not me. The idea that anyone hurt an innocent fourteen-year-old made me rage with anger. I was terrible and selfish with girls in the past, but I couldn't consider forcing myself on someone. A football player or not, I couldn't relate to anyone who would.
I could easily track down Ryder and beat the pulp out of him. The only thing that held me back was that approach wouldn't have impressed Ellie. She shouldn't have to hide her preferred nickname because some asshole trashed her name three years ago or hide the truth from her parents.
"Fuck, I wish I could help her," I muttered and shifted into the PCH entrance ramp. "Or figure out how to talk to her."
I'd always considered myself a confident guy who capably talked to any girl. But while Ellie struggled through her emotional confessions, I was painfully aware of one now obvious fact: I didn't know shit about girls' emotions.
In slow motion, the sparkle in Ellie's eyes dimmed to flat, dull, and vacant. While she gazed ahead, her thoughts turned inward to the pain she'd held inside. She sat still as the white corners of her eyes turned red and her lashes clumped together.
Shit, what do I do now? Think, Logan... yeah, I got nothing. "Tell me what to do, and I'll do it. Anything except pretend that it didn't happen. I'd like to, for your sake, but I think you've been doing that already, and it's not working." Absolutely and completely helpless, I hugged her close. Guilt gnawed at the inside of my stomach like I'd eaten something Mom had cooked.
"I don't know." She turned her head and pressed her cheek into my chest. "I mean, I don't know why the nightmares came back. I thought... I thought it was all behind me."
Think Logan. You take AP science. Just solve the problem.
Talking. Girls like talking, right?
I probably choked her spine. "You can tell me about it if it'd help."
The more she described her nightmares, the more protectiveness swelled in me. Any guy who forced a girl for selfish pleasure wasn't a man, but an athlete who used his physical strength and forced himself on someone deserved to have his ass tossed behind bars.
Regardless of my thoughts or opinions, I had to accept that Ellie's issue was hers and follow her lead. Typical Ellie fell back on her wit and sarcasm like she needed a break from the heavy discussion and said she needed me to take her home. I set my phone in the cupholder and smiled at her picture on my background. "I'm going to prove you can trust me."
Before I arrived home, my phone buzzed with a message from her.
Ellie: Thank you.
Me: For?
Ellie: Being you.
My wide, goofy smile reflected in the side window. Never would I have expected these words when we first met, but fuck they felt good to read.
Me: Screenshotting that compliment.
Ellie: You're terrible.
Me: Too late. You like me, said so yourself.
Ellie: I'm volunteering tomorrow.
Her update faded my smile. Tomorrow? Ellie was stronger than anyone gave her credit for. Once I scrolled through the charity's website she showed me, and what services they offered, I wanted to go. Someone needed to be her rock, her foundation. I wanted to be that person, even if I was shit with feelings.
Except, she didn't want me to, with certainty in her voice. I had to respect her decision. Her tackling her demons head-on was a lot braver than me strapping a helmet and leading my team to football glory. As she directly pointed out, I needed to reprioritize my team. I had my work in progress, and, like Ellie, I started with painful digging into parts of my past I preferred to ignore.
A list.
My problems started with a list of names, and I hoped they ended with another. I made a mental list of who I'd been with since the first girl I'd ever kissed. I started compiling the list on the silent ride home from Ellie's. Once I bypassed the innocent playground-dared kisses, the number of girls I'd messed around with made me squirm in my seat.
'Doing the right thing' didn't mean I ended the guys' game but apologized to everyone who deserved one. Or everyone that I could still find. I needed over an hour to remember all the girls I'd slept with, gotten blow jobs from, or made out with a lot of heavy groping. Most traced back to drunken experiences two to three years ago, where I only cared about getting myself to the physical rush.
I hadn't finished going through all of it by the time I got home, so I texted her I was done for the night. That was a poor choice of words. "Oh gosh!" Over the backdrop of pop music and the distinct rolling thunder sounds of bowling, her loud gasp filled my truck interior. "Did you get in an accident? Are you bleeding? Are you in a ditch? Do you need me to -"
"I'm fine." I rolled my eyes. "Everything's fine. I need to talk to you tonight."
Her voice elevated with concern. "What did you do?"
"Nothing." Yet.
"I have three more frames, and I'm done. Your mom's burning up this league! I'll be home in thirty minutes, so be careful and stay out of a ditch."
I flopped onto my bed with a sigh and kicked off my shoes. A small amount of sand puddle in the heels. "That was by far the deepest and saddest conversation I've ever had," I mumbled and overturned them into the trash.
Once I finished my wrap sheet, I organized the girls by which base we'd gotten to and counted them to know what I dealt with.
drunken one-night stands -- 5
drunken blow jobs that were not also one-night stands -- 8
repeated drunken blow jobs that I wished never happened -- 1
making out or touching, drunk or not: too many to list
Categorized and laid out like that, my list wasn't terrible if spread over four years of high school. Unfortunately, I'd been with that many girls for over fourteen months, my freshman and the first part of my sophomore years. Thank God I quit after one more mistake with Kendall, or it would've been much worse. And the connection between my drinking and making bad decisions? Fuck, I was more like Dad than I wanted to admit.
"You're just another asshole football player who doesn't have the decency to treat girls like they're people with feelings."
Ellie's words echoed through my brain. I cupped my hands behind my head. The midnight blue sky surrounded me in darkness except for a faint sliver of a moon that filtered dim light into my room. Each name was someone I hadn't treated like a person. I hadn't cared if they enjoyed it. A burst of pleasure with massive relief was all they were to me.
But I could change that, starting now. Ellie's strive to address her trauma was inspiring, but I wasn't doing this to impress her. Apologizing for being selfish and using girls for personal pleasure was the right thing to do. Chloe's willingness to accept an apology verified that, but digging up my past mistakes wasn't a pleasant walk on the beach.
All of the one-night stands and four of the blow jobs were an easy pass. Four of them were sophomores, and one was a junior when I was a freshman. Unless I went full stalker mode, I had no idea where they were now. I wasn't apologizing for kissing anyone who kissed me back or gave me a handjob. That left five girls to track down and apologize to – Alexis, Janelle, Christina, Chloe, and Kendall. I could manage that, one per day. The first three shared a similar story of post-game party servicing. Chloe and I went as far as touching, but the fallout was self-explanatory. She would be the most difficult apology, but I dreaded Kendall's. Her presence ground my patience to irritation, but Ellie's sweet voice reminded me, "She deserves an apology too."
Like a true ass, I never reciprocated anything for Kendall, or any girl, to be honest. This was going to be a shitty week. First, Mom and I needed to have an honest, painful conversation. The door downstairs shut, bringing me off the bed. I jammed my hands in my pockets. My heart thumped harder in my chest with each step, and my head bowed lower by the time I was downstairs. "Hey."
"In here!" I followed her voice to the kitchen, where she washed her hands. Her black and pink zebra-patterned bowling shirt shone as she looked over her shoulder. "Cheese and rice Logan, you look pale." She dried her hands and placed one on my forehead. "Do you feel okay? Not going to pass out again, I hope."
"I'm fine." I walked to the table on legs filled with quicksand. "We need to talk."
She gave me a quizzical, eyebrows-raised, 'Where are you going with this?' look, but sat across from me. "How was the book fair?"
My voice strained tight in my throat. "Fine."
"Is this about Eleanor?" Her frown deepened. Of course, she was more concerned that it could be Ellie-related.
I swallowed a dryness that crept up the back of my throat. My fingers twitched, and my heart thumped a conga line in my chest. This was hard. I had no problem giving a pep rally speech, locker room amp-up, or in-class presentation, but my palms were damp. I deserved her disappointment, but my heart raced the longer she blinked at me.
"You're concerning me." She frowned.
There was no point in dicking around, so I got straight to the point. "I apologized to Ellie and took her out. We had some serious talks that made me look at myself differently." I threaded my fingers in clasped prayer and rested my elbows on the table. "I know you give me a hard time about manners, especially with girls."
"What did you say to Eleanor?" Her eyes traveled over to the set of wooden spoons on the counter, and a suggestive smile curved her mouth.
I shook my head. Now wasn't the time for jokes. "It's what I did."
Her face dropped all emotion, and all lightness dissolved from her voice. "I'm afraid to ask, but what did you do?"
"I tried to use her, Mom. To tease her feelings out so I could fuck over her brother's games." I looked at where my fingers suffocated each other. "But I developed feelings for her in the process."
"So, she wasn't just some girl?" Mom shook her head. "Logan, I liked that one."
"I still do. I apologized and, provided I straighten out some other areas of improvement, I want to be serious with her."
"Exactly what areas of improvement are we talking about? If you're still collecting those dirty pictures, Logan Alexander, I swear-"
"No. Those are gone. But what I did was years ago, Mom," I assured her. "When I first started on the team, we competed to see who could take advantage of the most girls. I was extremely disrespectful and selfish. The last girl was Chloe, two years ago. I haven't done anything like that since, but I hurt her so much that she transferred this year."
"Logan." Her shoulders and tension lines around her mouth relaxed. She sat back against her chair and rested a hand on her chest with a quiet exhale. "I swear, I thought you were going to tell me you got some poor girl pregnant."
"No, Mom." I rolled my eyes. "I was careful every time."
"You didn't catch a venereal disease, did you?" I must have looked dumbfounded now, but she was dead serious. "The CDC says that HPV rates for our county are astronomical-"
"Mom." Whatever conversation topic she steered us to was not the road to go down. "I'm clean. I got tested at football camp this year. And I haven't been with anyone since sophomore year."
"Freshman and sophomore year?" Her fingers drummed on the table. She looked down at them for a few silent moments. My heart beating in my ears threatened to overtake my hearing. After she released a sigh, her voice and expression hardened. "Do I even want to know how many we're talking about here?"
"More than ten," I mumbled. Her eyes widened, so I added, "But five in the, uhh, biblical sense."
Her eyes darkened and narrowed. "Am I supposed to leave it up to my imagination as to what you mean by, 'take advantage of but not in a non-Biblical sense'?"
I looked down at the table, where the worn wood grains and scratches blurred into a solid brown. An invisible weight sank me back in my seat and a rock dropped into my stomach. "It was all sexual. Consensual on their part, but Chloe was the only one who meant more to me than a selfish release."
In the silence that followed, the dry lump in my throat enlarged. I squeezed my hands until my knuckles turned white. Strain burned my eyes, and I dipped my chin down. Each pounding beat of my heart was a stroke against my conscience.
When Mom finally spoke, her voice was harsh and stern. "I'm extremely disappointed to hear this, Logan, especially if you were that young. At Brody's age! You're supposed to set an example, for cripes' sake. You were raised to have better manners than that."
Her disappointment burned in my ears. "I know." All I could do was mumble, "I'm sorry, Mom." My shoulders sagged lower like I carried extra weight on them. The muscles in my arms tightened from my death grip. The clicking hand of the clock above the kitchen sink and my shortened breaths were the only sounds for what felt like eons.
"But..." Her single word cut through the silence like a knife. She extended one hand and her fingers tapped at my knuckles until I looked up. Sympathy warmed her gaze. "It's hard to learn anything if we never make any mistakes. It takes courage to look at yourself, see that you're making mistakes, and own up to them. I'm proud of you for recognizing that much."
"I'm trying to be better, Mom." The half-smile that lifted the corners of her mouth relieved some of the pressure on my shoulders. "It's sinking in."
"Logan, you shut yourself off after Chloe," she spoke in a softer tone, but her eyes gave me a hardened look, and she withdrew her hand. "Nothing mattered except school and football. I'm grateful for your work ethic, but I worry about the rest of you. I thought it was normal teen angst and had no idea because you refused to acknowledge I exist anymore."
My mouth dropped open and hung there. Mom never admitted that. "You're opening up more, and it feels like I'm getting my warm, caring boy back. That's why I like Ellie. I don't know how, but she's drawing the real you back out." She returned my smile with one that relaxed the crease lines on her forehead. "She's good for you."
"Too good," I admitted with a chuckle that vibrated my chest and released my clenched hands. "I don't deserve a girl like her."
"Don't be so hard on yourself." Mom leaned over and rubbed my forearm. "I think you're getting closer to decent human status than you think."
I leaned back in my seat, closed my eyes, and exhaled what felt like the room's air supply. "I hope so."