Its not that simple, p.7
It's Not That Simple, page 7
Jo: Check in if you’re not home by two. Be safe but have fun. Lord knows you could use it. Oh, and for future reference? The back stairs don’t creak.
I smile to myself. Of course, she’d send that. I look up and check my surroundings again before opening the second.
Bell: Here.
I’m about to turn the corner at the end of our street, where the greenhouses end when an arm wraps around my waist and a hand covers my mouth. “I just didn’t want you to scream,” he chuckles against my ear and I relax a little.
“You really shouldn’t grab people in the middle of the night,” I scold when his hand moves from my mouth and Bellamy laughs.
“So glad you specified the time of day,” he quips, releasing me. “You’re gonna stand out like a sore thumb in that.” His eyes dragging down my body makes me blush but he smiles and shakes his head, wrapping my hand in his.
“Where are we going?” I ask, suddenly nervous.
“Just to chill with some people,” he remains vague, reaching to open his car door. Leaning inside, he emerges again with something dark in his hand. “Put this on,” he hands it to me and I hold it out in front of me, revealing a dark hoodie that I could probably fit at least two of myself in, comfortably.
“Won’t you need this?” I ask, noting his t-shirt, despite it being November.
“No, this isn’t cold to me. But you’ll stay warm and stand out less than you would in the blue,” Bellamy explains and I nod, pulling the garment over my head. Reaching for me, he drops the hood that caught on my hair. “May I?” he asks, looking down the side of my face.
When I nod, he pulls the elastic from the end of my braid and lifts my hand to deposit it around my wrist. His fingers thread through my hair, combing it out some. It takes everything in me to not close my eyes at the feeling that spreads from my scalp, down my spine.
Only minutes later, he pulls up outside of a rundown old house and I have a moment of panic. Where the hell are we? With my hand tightly in his, he leads the way up to the front door. It creaks like it’s in pain when he pushes on it, revealing a musty, dimly lit space. A handful of people I recognize from school are scattered in the room but none of them look up as we walk through them. Sitting in one of the decrepit couches strewn around the space, Bellamy pulls me down into his lap. One arm bands securely around my waist and the other hand lands high on my leg. I couldn’t tell you anything that anyone may have said because while he talks with his friends, his fingers absently trace the seam on the inside of my thigh. I’m not sure if it’s a conscious movement, but my hips shift on his lap and the fingers wrapped around my leg graze the apex of my thighs. At the contact, his hand darts halfway down my thigh before tightening its grip on me.
“Ace,” he whispers, sounding an awful lot like a warning.
Shifting one more time, I lean into his chest further. “Sorry,” I mutter.
“Don’t be,” he says against my shoulder as the hand around my waist slips under the hoodie I’m wearing. I almost startle when his palm meets my bare stomach under both of the layers I wear. But he whispers once more. “Relax.”
Swallowing, I take a deep breath, trying to follow his suggestion. I’m so far out of my depth here, with him and all these people he calls his friends. Warm fingers draw lazy circles in the softness of my stomach. His other hand mimics its counterpart, on my thigh and I fight the urge to squirm or close my eyes. But I lose the battle against making his touch my sole focus.
Eventually, his fingers stop moving and I look around, to find us alone. Turning in Bellamy’s lap, I feel myself frown. “Where’d they go?”
“On a run,” he shrugs. “They’ll be back.”
“Oh, I didn’t… I just didn’t realize,” I’m not even sure where I’m going with this. I must have zoned out and lost track of time. I have no idea how much time has passed.
His smile stalls my thoughts, as dark eyes glance at my mouth. Returning to meet my gaze, Bellamy’s tongue darts out, touching his top lip. The tips of his fingers press against my leg, the sensation reminding me to blink. “You good?” he asks, tilting his head.
“Uh, yeah. What time is it?” I glance around, even though I know there is no way I’ll find a clock.
Shifting, he pulls his phone out. “Just about one. When do you need to be home?”
“I’m still good. I have to let my sister know if I’ll be out past two, but I don’t technically have a curfew.” It’s technically not a lie. Jo has one because she’s often out late, but one has never been implemented for me. His surprise is clear as his brows rise. Unsure of how else to respond, I just shrug.
“Well, do you want to go home?” he asks, reaching to tuck some loose hair behind my ear and everything in me is torn. I think I know what he’s asking, but I’m not sure I’m prepared to answer. “Do you want to get out of here?” he rephrases moments before two of his friends walk back through the door.
“Damn,” the tall blonde one whistles. “You gonna fuck or just stare at each other?” He laughs, passing by and rounding the corner into what I can only assume is the kitchen. I feel my face flush and Bellamy’s thumb brushes across my cheek.
“Ignore him,” Bellamy shakes his head, dragging the hand that had been touching me down his own face, before shifting forward on the couch. His lingering fingers pull away from under my shirt and I immediately miss the contact. But as soon as I take his hint and stand, he follows me up and tangles our fingers together.
“Where are we going?” I ask, looking around the vacant darkness when he leads me out the door.
“Just outside for a minute,” he says, but his voice sounds off. When Bell turns abruptly to face me, I almost run into his chest. His eyes are focused on something behind me as he wraps my free hand in his and takes slow steps backward. A singular light post stands at the corner of the yard. When his back touches it, he pulls me toward him until our shoes touch.
When his hands drop my own, I look up at him, wishing I could read his expression better. Between the dark of night and the shadows cast by the light directly above us, most of his features are obscured. Warm hands come up and frame my face, long fingers threading into my hair and my breath catches. Is this actually happening? My hands wrap around his wrists as he lowers his face to my own. His eyes are still on mine when our mouths touch and my eyelashes meet my cheeks.
His lips feel like pillows, moving against mine as my heart races. Panic flits through my mind that I don’t know what I’m doing when his tongue touches the seam of my lips. Opening and letting our tongues touch, because it’s what I read about in books, my stomach thrashes wildly. It’s probably only seconds before he pulls back and looks at me again, but I feel like I need to gasp for air. One hand leaving his wrist, my fingertips barely poke out of the end of the sleeve to touch my mouth.
Bellamy’s eyes track the motion, stuck on my mouth briefly before meeting my eyes again. “I -,” he starts, sounding almost like he wants to take it back.
Fucking hell. Her innocence didn’t come completely out of left field, but it also isn’t something I was fully anticipating. If I were to only judge by the way she’s looking at me right now, I’m not sure she’s ever even been kissed. At least not as a willing participant. Her eyes shine and her face in this moment will be forever imprinted into my memory.
“I -,” I start, not sure what I intended to say after that. But Ace smiles and shakes her head.
“Don’t,” she whispers against her fingers, still touching her mouth. My fingers flex against her scalp before I pull one hand away from her face and move to squeeze the back of my neck. Her hand touches my stomach, fingertips first before her palm flattens against it. When she looks up at me with those ice eyes and bites her bottom lip, I want to spin us and lift her against the pole at my back but I don’t want to scare her.
“Bellamy?!” Closing my eyes a second, I pull Cadence closer to me before I look up and see Daniel standing a bit away with something in his hand. I feel her arms wrap around my waist before I nod.
“Yeah man, we’ll be inside in a second,” I call across the yard to him and he nods, heading into the house. I loosen my grip around her shoulders and Ace leans back to look up at me. Leaning down, I press my lips to hers in one more chaste kiss before moving my arms so my palms frame her shoulders. “We can take off, I just need to tell them I’m leaving.” She nods and takes a step back, making my hands fall to my sides but the need to touch her again is overwhelming. I wrap her hand in mine and the feeling fades some.
We cross the lawn in silence but as soon as we pass through the door of the old house, I feel her tense behind me and instantly regret bringing her here. Dime bags are scattered across the coffee table and Daniel is cutting lines. “Fuck,” I mutter under my breath before tucking Ace behind me a little. “Really?” I say a little louder and six pairs of eyes look up at me.
“Man, you in?” Daniel asks, smirking. When I shake my head, his gaze flicks to my shoulder and then back to my face. “I see how it is. Princess makes you a pussy?” His face turns almost vindictive as small fingers grip the back of my shirt.
“Nah, man. Don’t even pretend it’s like that. You know I don’t do that shit. Never have and I don't plan to start,” I snap back. He mumbles something, before leaning down to snort one of the thin white lines off of the glass. “I’m out. Not sure if I’ll be back tonight, but I’ll see you tomorrow,” I tell him and he just nods, jaw grinding. I’m sure he’ll have words for me later, but I’m grateful he’s not getting into it right now. I raise my hand in farewell before turning toward Cadence and spinning her around. With a hand on her back, I guide her out of the building and toward my car.
It’s not until we’re both settled, the dash lights making the space glow and music barely audible, that she turns to me. “You were completely unfazed,” she points out and my eyes close a second longer than a blink.
“Yeah, it’s not an uncommon sight with these guys. I just didn’t think they’d pull it all out with you there,” I admit and her brow furrows.
“Why?”
“Why did I make that stupid assumption?” I clarify and she nods. “Honestly, because you’re Ace Grey. Your reputation doesn’t exactly align with theirs.”
“Right,” she mutters, sinking further into her seat and staring out the windshield. I sit there, watching her for a minute before moving to shift into gear. But before we move, she sighs deeply. “You don’t have to shelter me from their shit, you know.” I’m not having this conversation, idling outside their clubhouse. Nodding, I drive across town to my house and park out front.
Ace gazes out the window at the old, dark house before turning to me. “This is your house,” she states. It’s not a question, so I don’t respond. “So, am I just walking home? I mean, it’s not a big deal. Only a couple blocks…”
“No, I’ll drive you home. Will you come in for a bit first though?” I ask, not wanting to be away from her quite yet. Her hesitation is palpable, glancing between the house and me twice before nodding. At her agreement, I turn the car off and make my way around to her door.
“Um, you need to step on the far left of the top step,” I whisper, stopping to unlock the front door. Hearing her breathe out a sort of laugh, I relax a little.
I make sure to lock the door once we’re both inside, before starting up the stairs, Ace’s hand in mine. Sure enough, she steps exactly where I do, preventing the stairs from creaking. Once my bedroom door is closed, I cross it to turn on the lamp that sits on a stack of books beside my bed, which still sits frameless. She looks around, taking in posters on the wall and running a finger across the row of books that lines most of the room.
“Do you have a favourite?” she asks in a whisper as I pull my hoodie over my head.
“A favourite book?” I ask, feeling dumb as soon as the question leaves me. Turning to look at me, she nods and I scan the row of spines, thinking. “Um, Bridge To Terabithia, maybe?” It’s probably the one in my collection that I’ve read the most times, even though it's far below my reading level at this point.
“Maybe?” she smiles and I can’t help but return it. “How can you not be sure what your favourite book is? Especially when you have so many?” I shrug and she looks back at the books. “Have you read them all?”
“Yeah, all the ones on the shelf. The floor books, I haven’t yet.” When she nods, I lose a fight with myself and move into her space. With my chest touching her shoulder, I feel the deep inhale she takes. “You okay with what happened tonight?” I ask, trying to be vague but she turns her body to face me.
“I think so,” she glances around, avoiding my eyes. My fingers find her chin and startled eyes meet mine. I shift us, so I’m leaning against the edge of my desk and she’s standing between my feet.
“I’m gonna kiss you again,” is all I say, but she’s the one who steps forward and presses her mouth to mine. Her arms wrap around my neck and my own hands land on her hips. She hums against my lips when my palms skate up, under her layers, framing her ribs.
It’s not that I’ve never been kissed before. I have, but not like this. Bellamy’s mouth moves with mine, feeling like he wants to consume me. His fingers encase my ribs and I don’t fully realize we’re moving until his grip changes and he lifts me onto his desk. Our tongues tangle with grace I didn’t anticipate, as he steps between my knees.
Too soon, he pulls back and drags in a breath, touching his forehead to mine. “What?” I whisper, very aware that he hasn’t opened his eyes yet. I can feel the tension rolling off him and I need to know why. My mind instantly flashes to the moment he had to do up my jeans for me as tears streamed down my face and I close my eyes for a beat. I can't help but wonder if that's what makes him hesitate. Yeah, what happened was less than ideal, but I'm not broken. Can't he feel the difference? That this, I want?
“Nothing,” he shakes his head against mine before his dark eyes finally meet my gaze. “What do you want to do, Ace?”
“What do you mean, what do I want to do?” The question comes out in a breath of nervous laughter and he smiles at me.
“Do you want to stay here? Or do you want to go home? Or maybe a little of both? I don’t -,” he stops, looking around and dragging in a deep breath.
I follow his eyes around the room, wondering how that sentence was supposed to end. In the weeks I’ve known him, he’s never seemed to hesitate, until now. Just point out the elephant, Ace. Maybe it will help. Then again, maybe it will make it worse.
“We could watch a movie or something.” His suggestion bursts from him abruptly, stopping me from bringing up something that clearly neither of us want to talk about. As his eyes meet mine, I audibly swallow. He blinks slowly and I can see a question flit across his face. “What are you reading right now?”
Okay, not what I was expecting him to ask. “Um? A biography, Jane Eyre, and One Small Thing.” I tell him, though there’s no way he’s going to know what the last one even is.
Taking a step back, the tension noticeably rolls off his shoulders and his eyebrows rise, “You’re reading three books?” The awe in his voice makes me short-circuit briefly before nodding.
“Yeah, classics can get dry, so I like to have something newer and more entertaining to read in between.” I shrug, clearing my suddenly dry throat. “And the biography is heavy, so same thing. I need the variety, or I never finish anything. I can’t mix genres though.”
“I see,” he smirks at me and I tilt my head.
“What are you reading?” I inquire since he seems much more comfortable on this train of thought.
“An Ember in the Ashes,” he says and chuckles when my brow furrows. “It’s high fantasy dystopian. It’s not bad,” he shrugs and drags long fingers through his hair. I nod and slide off the desk, only to perch on the edge of his mattress to look through the stack of books on the floor beside it.
“You haven’t read Great Expectations?” I ask, turning to him. Bellamy stands there, hands in his pockets, looking down at me. Breathing out a chuckle, he shakes his head.
“I’m making my way through the classics, slowly. Very slowly. My goal was to finish twenty classics before I finished high school, but that’s not looking likely at this point,” he chuckles, taking a step closer to where I sit. I nod, not sure how to respond to the way he’s looking at me. He makes me nervous, but not in an unwanted manner. I almost feel like I should revel in it. “What’s the face for?” he asks, sitting next to me and flopping back across his bed.
I watch the movement, dragging my eyes up his body and he smiles when I get to his face. His hand lays on my knee and I glance down at the contact before meeting his gaze again. “Come here,” he whispers when I don't answer his question, fingertips grappling at my leg. I shift so that I’m sitting cross-legged, facing him instead of with my back to him and his fingers drum on my thigh. “No, come here,” he repeats, holding his arms out.
