More Than This by McLean, Jay (best books to read for teens txt) 📗

his hand to his heart.

I giggle and take a look around, there are like… hundreds of kids here, I see a couple from my school.

“All these kids go to your school? Or is this like… for other schools in the area too?”

“I think it’s just ours,” Logan says. He’s taking a breather from making out with the red head on his lap. Sipping his beer, he asks, “Why? You scared that asshole ex of yours is going to show up?”

I shrug, “Not really, and even if he does, I’m sure Jake will just punch him again.”

Logan and Cam spit out their beer simultaneously and Dylan cusses.

What the fuck?

Logan is glaring at me bug eyed. “He punched that asshole?”

I nod my head slowly.

“Which hand?” Dylan asks, panic on his face.

What?

Behind me, Jake raises his right hand slowly, which brings on a tirade of name calling and questions from the guys.

“Its fine!” Jake yells above them all.

I’m so freaking confused, and Lucy must sense it because she answers my unasked question, “His pitching hand.”

Shit.

I take his right hand between the two of mine and start kissing the knuckles one by one. I feel him stiffen behind me at my displayed affection, and then I feel him stiffen under me.

That’s my cue to get off of him and… do something… anything else.

Chapter 19

*Jake*

I am in too deep, way too deep. This girl is driving me crazy. I spent the rest of last night with a hard on and I don’t think it’s fully left me yet. That dress she was wearing, and then the lap sitting, and the laughing, and the holding, and touching, and the joking, and the flirting, and then she fucking goes and kisses my hand, so intimately. My fucking pitching hand. It’s by far the sexiest thing a girl has ever done. EVER. And I don’t say this to be a dick, but girls have done a lot of shit to me.

I throw the covers off my pathetic joke of a bed and stretch out. My back is screwed, my whole body aches. I fold the blankets and shake my head as I look at my ‘bed’. Definitely not made for me 6 foot 2 frame. I might attempt sleeping on the floor tonight, anything’s got to be better than this.

I walk into the kitchen, or more like wobble, in my condition.

Kayla’s already there.

“Your mom left a note, she’s at some PTA meeting…” She takes in my physical state, “…and what happened to you?”

“I don’t think me and the sofa are friends anymore.” I put on a pout.

“Shit, Jake. I’ll take the sofa, you should have your bed back. You can’t sleep on the sofa all summer.”

“You wanna bet?” I ask, cocking my eyebrow at her.

She looks at me for a second then turns away, biting her lip.

“At least let me give you a massage?” she says quietly.

I laugh.

“I’m serious,” she confirms.

I think about it, but shake my head.

“C’mon please? I have to do something.”

“It’s fine, Kayla. I’ll see a physio when we get back from Lisa’s wedding.”

“It’s not fine. C’mon.” She starts to pull my arm to lead me away, I dig my heels into the floor.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s just that…” I smirk… “This body is in peak physical condition. I’m almost a professional athlete, Kayla. I can’t just let anybody touch me.”

She rolls her eyes at me. “Trust me, I give good massages.”

“Yeah?” I eye her. “Says who?”

She looks away and blushes.

James. I’m pretty sure I physically shiver in disgust but she doesn’t notice.

“Look,” she starts, squaring her shoulders. “When James started to really get into basketball, he’d always feel like shit afterwards, all the training and game time killed him. He’d always complain about being sore, so I researched how to help him, if I could help him. One summer I took classes at the local community college, Physical therapy and Sports Medicine. I learnt heaps. I actually enjoyed learning it, and practicing it. For a little bit there I was genuinely considering becoming a Sports Doctor. I still think about it sometimes.”

I let this sink in. “Shit, Kayla.” I shake my head. “He really didn’t deserve you, you know that, right?”

“I know right?” she smiles. “I am a fucking awesome girlfriend, some asshole is going to be so lucky one day.”

I swear to god, I hope that asshole will be me.

I swipe my hand through the air, “Lead the way, Doc.”

She smiles and leads me to my room.

***

She asks me to take my shirt off and lay facedown on the bed and I do as she says. She doesn’t move for a beat then asks, “Do you have any lotion or oil?”

“Uh huh, baby oil in the bottom drawer.” I point to my night stand.

The second the words are out I regret it. It’s my ‘sex’ drawer. Boxes of condoms, lube, baby oil, tissues, and porn. Yes, Porn.

I hear her open the drawer then chuckle a little.

“What?” I say, trying to hide my embarrassment, “I’m a guy.”

Next thing I know, she’s sitting on my ass and rubbing oil into my back, her tiny hands kneading my aching muscles.

“Jake?”

“Mmmm.” My face is smeared into the pillow and her hands feel amazing.

“Um, I hope I’m not like… cramping your style by being here.”

I chuckle under my breath but my body shakes and she feels it. I hope she doesn’t feel that I’ve got a semi because she’s touching me. “I don’t think anyone could be ‘cramping my style’ unless we rewound time back to 2002.”

She playfully smacks me on the back. “You know what I mean.”

“I don’t actually.”

“Well, I mean, I know there’s no shortage of girls that are uhh… willing… to partake in certain activities with… with you.” She clears her throat. “I just don’t want you to think… I mean I know how uncool it would be to invite a girl back here and somehow make that sofa work.”

“Kayla, I don’t bring