Lies On The Lips

Chapter Ten

Copeland

I’m a liar.

A big fucking liar. I want to be furious with Brett, but after he saved my ass this morning, I can’t find it in me to pin my anger on him. No, the fury is all directed at myself. I am disgusting. My body, in its confused state when I’d awoken, had reacted to Brett’s nearness. I lied straight to his face. I told him it was him who was all over me. Truth is, I woke up with my dick hard and pressed against his ass. My hand was on his stomach and my nose buried in his hair. The memory is fresh in my mind and my gut churns.

Pleasure skitters up my spine as my cock rubs against her. Not her. Him. Awareness trickles through me. It’s a dream. For a second, I convince myself it’s a dream as my body reacts to his. His abs are hard under my palm and my thumb lazily rubs back and forth through his happy trail. My cock is aching. I can’t help but roll my hips, seeking relief against him. Fuck, he smells good. Familiar and clean. It’s just a dream. Shame creeps around me like a fog, but I attempt to push it away. Not real. It’s not real, so I can fantasize for one fucking second. That’s all I want. One second of a fantasy. Just a taste. In my dream, I edge my fingers beneath the hem of his boxers, my longest finger sliding against his dick. My own dick jolts against him, making me groan. Just a dream. I’m breathing heavier and the craving to take this fantasy further is a maddening lure. "Cope, have you seen…"

I shake away the memory from this morning and the way my dad had walked in on me. It wasn’t a dream. Or rather, it was a dream that had taken a realistic turn. I’d jumped away from him at my dad’s words, but didn’t miss the disgusted look on his face. I was worried as hell what Dad would do over it, but then Brett made it all better. He saved my ass by chatting it up with my dad in a way I’ve never been able to do.

Familiar laughter jolts me from my thoughts and I lift my head to see Ashley walking toward me. Today she looks sexy as ever in all black. Smiling. Happy. And with Paul with his arm slung over her shoulders. Predictable. I wait for a pang of regret or a spike of jealousy. Nothing. I feel nothing. I’ve been numb for so long…

Not so fucking numb now as I hlance across in front of the school. Brett strides past with only the swagger he possesses. Confidence drips from him and he wears a smug smile. Everyone just goes the fuck along with it. No one else sees the torment in his brown eyes like I do. No one reads him like I can. He wishes he were numb. He doesn’t want to feel. But he does and it hurts. It’s plain as fucking day in his eyes. No one sees. No one but me. His eyes could never lie to me. I’m about to call out to him, thankful to have him back, when Dante beats me to the punch.

Watching him walk away with Dante was the biggest blow to my heart. He's my best friend, mine and he so easily just dismissed me like I was shit on the bottom of his shoe. Leah tried and failed to make me feel better. I'd never feel better, not while Dante was practically hanging off his arm. I hated it with a venomous rage.

"Are you going to class?" Asks Leah bouncing around me, trying to keep my attention on her and not on Brett by the lockers.

I sigh and slung my arm on her shoulder. "I will shortly, you go ahead of me." She frowns and slumps away from me, yet I watch for a little longer until she's gone and stormed towards Brett. He caught me and went to move, but I was quicker and grabbed him by his hoodie and pulled him towards an empty room.

"Get off!" I ignored him and pushed him into the room and locked the door behind me. "What are you doing?"

He bared his chest as I moved towards him. "Stop it," I said between clenched teeth. "Just stop this charade with Dante."

His brows furrowed and he looked away. "You have no right telling me what I can and can't do."

"Everyone knows Dante is gay," I warn him. "And his over the top attitude points at you as his new conquest."

Brett rolls his eyes at me. "I'm nobody's conquest."

Damn right.

"Tell that to Dante, then."

His jaw clenched as he looked past me, then his eyes locked with mine again. "I told him not to say anything."

"And you believe him?"

"I had no choice but to Cope." He snaps.

We have a silent standoff. The heat in his fiery gaze burns me. When you've been dead inside for years, the burn feels good. It makes you feel alive.

"Do I need to have a talk with him?" I'd love nothing more than to get in that pretty boy's face.

Brett's gaze hardens. "You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you're jealous."

I bark out an evil laugh. "I've only just got my best friend back, you seem to forget how much I had to protect you."

"I can take care of myself," he sneers. "I don't need a babysitter."

"Whatever," I say as I move away from him. He grabs me by the bicep and shoves me against the wall. "What," I demand and fail to shove his big ass body away from me.

He fists my shirt and leans in close. Our stomachs rub against each other. When I realize he's hard through his jeans, a wave of disgust washes through me. That is until I realize I'm just as hard. What the fuck?

"Lose the attitude," he rumbles, his voice dropping low. "I've had enough of that shit for two years, if you want to be my friend, stop acting like a douchebag." His eyes drop to my lips sending rage through me.

I shove him back and he stumbled, but didn't let go of my shirt. We end up on the other side of the room with his back against a wall. My eyes sear into his as I ready myself to spit out hateful words. But they don't come. When his eyes dart to my lips again, my cock jolts in my pants.

"I'm not gay," I growl. "So stop looking at me like you can change that." He grits his teeth but doesn't respond. "This," I hissed as I grind my hips against his. "Is just what happens when you haven't got laid in a long time, so don't confuse it for anything else." He licks his lips and fire lashes at me under my skin. I track the movement of his tongue hating the desire that pooled in me. "Don't even think about it," I warn.

I can see it in his eyes.

He wants to kiss me.

For a split second I almost wish he would, so I can punch him and go back to not talking to him for another two years. At least the past two years I've felt numb. Right now, I feel anything but numb. I feel alive and on fire. And I hate him for making me feel this way. "Brett," I rasp out. "Don't fucking kiss me." I freeze, He's really going to do it. He's really going to ruin everything again, but I don't want to move.

"Kiss you and lose your moody ass again?" He whispers, his breath hot on my lips. "I wouldn't dare," he bypasses my lips and brings them to my ears. "If you want a kiss, you'll have to take it yourself." He pushes me away and leaves the room. Leaving me with anger and a raging hard on and emotions swirling in my body.

It almost sounded like a challenge.

A damn dare.

He knows me better than anyone else, even after all this time, and he's screwing with my head the only way he knows. Two can play at that game.

Lies On The Lips

I saunter into class, uncaring that coach might give me shit for being late. But he's not focused on my tardiness or the unruly class at the moment. Instead he's grinding Brett's ass.

My hackles rose and I stopped mid step, ignoring Ashley's glare from nearby. Brett is no longer the confident asshole from minutes ago. His shoulders a haunched from the lashing from the coach.

The need to intervene becomes too much to bear and I step in catching the end tail of coaches' words. "...an idiot, nothing but a damn idiot."Coach seethes.

Brett's adam's apple bobs in his throat as he swallows. "I'm sorry." The despondency in his voice scratches away at me until I'm pissed as hell for him.

"Are you done harassing your student?" My eyes snaring at coaches.

He shoots me a look. "Take a seat, Lacey."

"Come on Brett," I said, dragging him to our seats. I looked at another student and he panicked and moved so I was situated next to Brett.

"I was fine, I didn't need you to do that."

"Probably not, but he was being unfair, it's my fault your face is broken."

He looks away from me and at the desk in front of him. "I'm glad you did, for two reasons."

"Such as?" I enquire.

"We became friends again and you got me out of playing football, it was my dad that made me." His brows furrowed together. Moments ago we were at each other's throats. Now, we're once again having each other's backs. It's how we are, how we've always been. Our friendship has been fire and ice. A volatile flashing of emotions that somehow actually makes sense. We blow off and then we cool together. Like a couple of damn volcanos. "He took it better than dad did," he murmurs.

I rake my eyes over his face to see his lip still swollen. His dark hair styled in a way that looks good on him. Brown eyes that earlier simmered with anger towards me have now softened. He licks his lips drawing my gaze down south and I linger at them. Full, dark pink. Lips that once pressed against mine. I'd tasted hope on those lips. And when I tore mine away from them two years ago I thought he'd spit hope to the dirt. But looking at them closely, and by the way he licks them in a nervous way, that hope still glistens on them.

He flashed me a broad smile and winks, making my stomach knot and my heart boom in my chest. A flush washes over me, one I don't know how to interpret. Brett's arrival back in my life is fucking me up, I'm all over the place. I'm in big trouble, big ass fucking trouble.