A/N: slight amount of mature content.

"Get a fucking grip, Harper," I cursed myself out of my fixated trance as I stared at yet another one of Jake's billboard pictures like I recognized a criminal out of a lineup.

After an appropriately selected 'angry girl music' playlist selection blasted through my car's speakers, divine inspiration came to me before I peeled out of the middle of bumfuck nowhere. Before I'd left the gas station, I'd extended one more hand with a middle finger gesture in front of my phone and snapped a picture of the now tomato-smeared billboard behind my gesture.

A few more billboards later, I texted Ellie.

me: You could've warned me.
me: [ image attached ]

A few minutes later, when the fourth such billboard was just a rearview mirror memory, my phone chimed with a response and an alert came over my dashboard screen.

Ellie: Did you do that?

me: Possibly. 😇

Ellie: You're terrible... And I shouldn't have laughed. 😂

me: But you did!

"Sadly, I didn't," I mumbled at my phone, turned on the car, and moved to pull out but paused at Ellie's next text that popped up on the dashboard.

Ellie: Don't kill me.

"Already know you did it." I frowned and peeled around a slow-moving car that shouldn't have driven in the leftmost lane. "Better fess up, Ellie."

With my preference that I drove nine miles over the posted speed limit and Dad's strict 'two miles under' rule, he'd quickly fallen behind me. I knew even with my slightly diverted gas refill, he was still at least thirty minutes north of where I'd stopped.

While I stomped my foot down onto the accelerator on the entrance ramp, I texted Ellie back through the car's voice commands.

me: Nice of you to say this after I'm 6 hours south.

me: Let me guess. You told Jake.

After not even a full minute's pause, Ellie fessed up.

Ellie: Guilty as charged.

"Damnit." I rolled my eyes.

Like it would've been anyone else. Those two have no secrets.

me: Thanks for that. 😒
me: You've now been upgraded to next-level ex best friend status.

Ellie: Just thought you could use someone to look after you.
Ellie: Kieran and Josh are in LA too, although Kieran and Jake had a fallout.

I frowned for a moment at Ellie's message then shook my head.

Didn't know that about Jake and Kieran, but don't care.

me: You're assuming that I want anything to do with asshole football players. Do I really need to finish that thought?

Ellie: Please don't hate me for being concerned.

Of course she plays that card.

Ellie's heart was bigger and sweeter than anyone else I'd probably ever meet in my life. The fact she'd forgiven me after I slept with Jake behind her back in high school and we were still friends proved that. She hadn't even wanted Jake or her boyfriend Logan to pummel the shit out of Ryder that he deserved for what he'd done to her.

Ryder's harassment hadn't stopped at the physical side during the party. By the time we got to school the following Monday, Ellie had been branded by the gossip mill as all kinds of horrible, false accusations. The post-rape attempt harassment Ryder subjected her to hurt her deeper than she ever admitted but both Jake and I saw the impacts.

The experience changed Ellie over the next three years, as her personality receded into a shell of her former self. That shell hardened into an anti-social, anti-dating, anti-life version of Ellie. Jake and I gladly assumed the role of Ellie's bulldog protectors, at the expense that whatever our relationship we'd had was eroded away with his anger and my guilt.

Ellie stayed guarded until our senior year, when Logan decided otherwise. He fell for her so hard and fast, the idiot never stood a chance.

Just prior to that high school angst-ridden experience though, Jake and I had one of our last encounters together. That exchange marked the second lowest point for me, when my weakness against his snake charms peaked.

One early Saturday morning halfway through the summer before our senior year of high school, I got the weirdest text message from Jake. His text was eerily similar to the one he'd sent earlier today and the events that had followed were a major contribution towards my decision when I'd bolted after the most recent encounter... along with almost every other romantic or sexual encounter since then.

I had stupidly fallen asleep with my phone tucked underneath my pillow, which chimed under my cheek with repeated messages and woke me out of a coma-like teenager's sleep mode. I'd fumbled around for my phone with full intentions that I cursed out whoever had the balls to wake me up before ten am on a Saturday morning.

The culprit was obvious from my contact name.

asshole: Hey, got a problem and need your help.

"No, no, no, fuck no." I mumbled and thanked autocorrect because half my words started out unreadable.

me: You must've misdialed the herpes clinic again.

asshole: This is all your fault.

After I'd squinted at his message for a few blurry-eyed moments, I gave up.

me: What?

He pinged me back almost immediately.

asshole: 🍆🍆
asshole: I'm so horny right now.

"Sucks to be you, Jake," was my mumbled response but fortunately my fingers were more awake than the rest of me.

me: Wtf?????? Lube up your silicon girlfriend for that shit.

asshole: I don't want her.
asshole: I want you.

I stared at the words on my screen and blinked to make sure they were actually there. Before I processed what the fuck he meant by them, I scoffed and rolled my eyes because there was no way in hell he was serious.

Right when I tossed my phone aside on my bed, it buzzed again. With a groan, I reached over and rolled the screen into view.

asshole: u home?

me: The vagina you have reached is no longer in service. Please hang up and never contact her again.

asshole: Yes u r, don't lie.

I wasn't going to indulge in whatever joke this was, plus his single-letter words twitched my eyes. So I tossed my phone aside and laid back under my down comforter cocoon with every intention that I fell back to sleep. I'd slipped halfway there when a loud bang on my bedroom window startled me awake like I'd stuck my finger into an electrical socket. In a half-groggy state, I slipped out of bed and looked around for anything self-defensive but unfortunately settled for a nearby desk lamp.

"Hey." A wide grin split Jake's face as I opened the window. He was right there, his large frame in a gray T-shirt and flannel pajama pants that hung low on his hips.

"Jake!?" I set the lamp down and fought the urge that I slammed the sash down on his fingers as he hoisted himself up and into my bedroom.

At his easy access, I cursed my parents for the single-story ranch house that had put my bedroom on the first floor, my mother after she'd left us, and my father for how he always worked at seven am in the office on weekends.

"What are you doing here, Jake?"

My arms crossed over the obviously thin fabric in the tank top pajama top that left much to the imagination. His dark eyes roamed over me like a feral animal that hadn't eaten in weeks and, for reasons unknown to me, I was bait. I ignored the shudder that my body wanted to release and, like all emotions I felt towards Jake, I simply bottled it inside.

"We're eighteen now." His eyes glimmered at the dumbass announcement.

"Like I said..." Within two steps, his large frame stepped inches from me. His large hands rested on the equally thin fabric on the pajama bottom shorts over my hips. My eyes blinked rapidly as my breath caught in the back of my throat.

Before I said anything, his head dipped down and his lips brushed against the spot where my neck met my right shoulder. His matted brown hair tickled against the side of my neck while he worked over that sensitive spot. By the soft, deliberate strokes of his tongue on the skin along my collarbone between, he knew exactly what effect the attention had on me. I squeezed my arms tighter over my chest in protest against the tightening sensation in my nipples as his lips blazed a hot trail up the side of my neck until they reached my ear and tugged the lob gently between his teeth.

"...I want you."

Those three husky words vibrated straight into my eardrum, unleashed that pent-up shudder down my spine, and shot warm pulses down into my traitorous core area. I hated my body at that moment, how he knew every line and curve, and I reacted like a puppet wielded by its master puppeteer. My lack of control over my reactions, like my breath that was definitely elevated as his hands moved from my hips onto my elbows and tugged my arms free, still bothered me to this day.

"Jake." My eyes narrowed as I glared up at him.

At 5ft10, I was tall from the long legs on my mother's side of the family, but he definitely stood over me at 6ft4. He opened my arms and dropped his gaze until I felt open, exposed, and angry. Based on the itch of my public restroom toilet paper thin pajama shirt, which I made a mental note to promptly burn after he'd left, the last thing I wanted was Jake saw any sign of my obvious arousal.

"By the looks of you..." His head stooped lower and my mouth dropped open as his lips enclosed around my right nipple, then gently tugged on the fabric barrier with his teeth. "Harper, you want me too."

"Playing dirty, Harrison." I fought the twitch in my fingers that my hands wrapped around his ears and buried his head into my breasts, which, like the rest of my body, had abandoned my resolve and ached heavily for his attention. "You know that happens if anyone touches me like that."

"I'd like to think," he murmured into my breast while his other hand's index finger and thumb kneaded the other one gently. "That I'm not just anyone."

"You're... forgetting the obvious." I squeezed my thighs together and stared up at the ceiling as multiple moans ached to escape from my throat as his mouth moved to my left breast. I was very aware of the random patterns his free hand now traced on my inner thigh and lifted higher towards an area of me that now throbbed in equal parts anticipation and complaint.

As a last resort, both my hands grabbed his wrist and prevented his upwards assault against my restraint. My underwear was already traitorously damp but that was my last barrier and he didn't need to know how aroused I was.

"Your girlfriend." The words came out more bitterly than I would've liked and he definitely noticed the chill in my voice by how his movements froze. "Camille."

"Isn't as sexy as you." He pulled his head back, then pursed his lips and blew onto my shirt. As a maniacal smirk tugged on his lips, I looked down and groaned at how he'd made my shirt look like a wet T-shirt contest loser, from which my nipples protruded out practically like fucking airport marshalling wands that direct planes in a given direction.

Traitors.

"And she's gone this week anyways," he offered in a tone that implied this information was good news.

"So that's the reason." I shoved his shoulders backwards roughly, although he barely flinched. "Can't tell you how thrilled I am to be your backup booty call."

"Wouldn't be the first time." The corners of his mouth curled upwards into his full smirk.

"Well, consider it the last then," I replied firmly because while our previous times where we'd messed around were when he and Camille were on a break, this time they weren't. My body begged for indulgence but the few still functioning cells within my brain warned me this was a terrible idea.

"I love seeing you like this, perky just for me." He straightened back up, pulled his head back back a little, and his dark eyes roamed over me unabashedly. "Your body is so reactive, Harper, you can't deny it."

"Takes one to know one." My hands moved forwards, grabbed his hips, and pulled them into mine. I returned his smirk as I rubbed myself against the hard erection between us and the low guttural groan that escaped his lips from the friction I grinded between us.

"Do I need to remind you..." I reveled in the clench of his jaw as my hips teased him further. "You started this?"

"And I intend to finish it." He leaned forwards and pressed his lips against mine.

Unlike our first kiss, there was nothing sweet about this exchange. Hands grabbed at, well, everything, our mouths were forceful and insistent, teeth scraped against teeth, and his tongue tangled with mine like we'd done this regularly. My heart pounded loudly in my ears and my veins pulsed with electricity as his hands found my hips again and guided me back to my bed.

In omitted details, we fucked each other hard, rough, and shamelessly. Jake cheated on his girlfriend four times in one occurrence but only one thing happened that day that surprised me and another that absolutely terrified me.

Overall, I shockingly felt no regret. I wasn't attached to anyone and Jake had come over to my house, solicited me. All I felt as we tangled with each other, his cock pummeled in and out of me repeatedly, was how much I wanted him inside me again, he wanted me too, and we kept going until whatever that raw, near desperate feeling was had been fucked out of us.

The terrifying part for me was the not fact we needed to have sex four times before either of us were satiated. No, what terrified me happened during the fourth time.

Jake slowed down, climbed on top of me, and kissed me gently. His lips, swollen and red, moved over mine with a delicate, feather-like touch. After he rolled on the - yes I cringed every time at this part too- fourth condom, he propped himself up onto his elbows and his eyes stared straight into mine.

"I want to see you this time," he murmured as his elbows caged my shoulders underneath him.

Silently, I slid my hands to the skin on his sides, where his rippled oblique muscles were damp with perspiration, and opened my legs for him. Both of us sighed when he entered me and his body's slow, deliberate movements against mine made me feel like no one else had.

Jake was everywhere around me. His natural body scent mixed with perspiration and the musk from the previous rounds, his weight pressed down on me, the warmth that flowed from his skin, and the hardest determination in his steady, rolling thrusts all overpowered me. His eyes locked onto mine and held them for every one of his slow, even strokes that pressed deep inside me.

I felt cherished. I felt appreciated. I felt wanted... Then came the part that terrified me.
I felt loved.

Tears pricked the corners of my eyes as we both climaxed and finished. As Jake rolled off me and cleaned himself up, a drowsy drunken-like sleep closed my eyes heavy-lidded. The warmth of one of his hands wrapped over the top of my head, smoothed down a few frizzy strands of hair, and tucked one behind my right ear. One of his index fingers traced my jawline and his lips pressed gently against mine like a breathless whisper of promises that couldn't - or rather, wouldn't - be kept.

Every inch of me silently begged that he joined me in my bed under my fluffy down comforter, wrapped his gigantor furnace-warm frame around mine, and held me like I was important, that I mattered, that I was... his even though the rational side of my brain argued otherwise. Since those thoughts squeezed my heart tightly inside my chest, I only kept my mouth and eyes closed while I waited for what he did next.

He left.

Jake might've hesitated while he slightly dressed himself. I wasn't entirely sure since my only auditory cues were rustling clothes and light breaths but he never touched me or said anything further. The last noise I heard was the soft click as he closed the same window he'd entered a few hours earlier.

My thoughts erupted first, followed slowly by tears that blurred the view of my now empty window.

Camille can have him.

Asshole.

"No," I whispered quietly to myself and tightly gripped my steering wheel. "Bad idea Harper even thinking about Jake again, very bad idea."

I wasn't entirely sure how but I knew once I got to UCLA, I'd do everything in my power so I avoided that asshole's very existence.

Unfortunately, completely unknown to me at this moment, both Jake and the greater Los Angeles area had their own ideas.