Hudson(15)

Her tone said frustrated. Heated, for sure, but not angry.

Interesting.

I decided I’d be the one to play that nothing happened. “I’m not going anywhere, Ceeley,” I said, purposefully using my childhood nickname for her. “I was merely standing to greet you.”

She frowned, disbelief on her face. “Next you’re going to pretend you haven’t been avoiding me for two weeks.”

I shook my head and shrugged, my gaze drifting behind her to nothing specific. It was a posture I’d perfected—dramatic and aloof. “Nah, I’m not going to do that.” Then I pinned her with my eyes. “I can’t pretend with you, Ceeley. Not anymore.”

It hadn’t been what I’d planned to say—it was a blatant lie. I’d planned on pretending with her as long as necessary, but as soon as I’d said it, I knew it was what the moment needed.

Celia’s expression confirmed that it was the right thing to say. Her frustration melted off her features and she was left looking soft and off-kilter. “Then let’s not pretend. Let’s talk about this.”

I wasn’t ready for that. If she made a declaration of love or an intention to end things with her boyfriend, I’d be stuck for the rest of the evening playing that I welcomed those things. It was my parents’ f**king garden party. I wouldn’t be able to dump her and leave. And I certainly wasn’t going as far as that would require me to go. I wasn’t planning to even kiss her.

So I deflected. “How about we not talk tonight? Instead we just enjoy one of the last days of summer. We can talk tomorrow. Are you going to the Brookes’ shindig?” I already knew her answer. The Brookes were our age. Twins—Thomas and Christina. Christina was one of Celia’s friends. An entire house full of spoiled rich kids. No supervision. That was the more appropriate setting for the end of my project.

Celia’s mouth turned up in an eager grin. “Of course I’m going. Christina would kick my ass if I didn’t.” She’d been hoping that the reason behind my asking was because I wanted to be alone with her instead.

It wasn’t. “I’m going too. I’ll meet you there. We can slip away when we don’t have our parents breathing down our necks.” I glanced toward the house, indicating how close our parents were at that very moment. “It will give us a chance to…” I hesitated, letting her mind jump to whatever conclusion she preferred before I finished with, “talk.”

“Right.” Her cheeks flushed and I was sure her thoughts had been dirty. “We’ll…talk…then.”

“Good.” I let a brighter than usual smile cross my lips. “I see swimsuit straps under that dress. If you want to get in, I will too.”

We played in the pool for quite a while. Soon other guests arrived and more of our peers joined us. Christina Brooke flirted with me, as she often did, though I refrained from returning the attention the way I normally would. There were several other attractive girls there as well—some that I’d even f**ked on occasion. On any other night, I would have picked one and banged her behind the poolhouse.

But tonight Celia was there. Tonight the experiment was more important. So I ignored the eyes the other girls gave me, and I made sure to keep my focus on The Subject throughout the night. I wanted to be sure that she noticed I was looking, that she assumed I was attracted to her physically, though I wasn’t. It wasn’t that Celia wasn’t pretty. Quite the contrary. She’d been a beautiful girl that had grown into an even more beautiful woman over the year we’d been apart. Her curves had filled out—her hips were full, her waist slight. Her breasts were on the small side, but firm under her bikini top. Her nipp**les beaded through the thin material under my frequent glances. Any other man would have been hard staring at her as often as I did.

But I wasn’t just any man. Despite her beauty, Celia had never turned me on. I knew her too well. I cared for her as much as I was able. For me, emotions didn’t go with sex. They were completely separate. Emotional attachment was for people you wanted to spend time with—there were few of those people in my life. So few I could count them on one hand.

Sex was something else entirely. It was for pleasure. For getting off. For releasing pent-up aggression. I’d explored the possibility that it was anything else very thoroughly. I’d f**ked frequently. I’d learned how to please and how I liked to be pleased. I’d perfected technique, shaped myself into a skilled lover. Yet with all the encounters I’d had, I’d never discovered the association others had with emotion and sex. My findings only solidified my original hypothesis—they were separate things entirely.

Or I’d proven another hypothesis altogether—that I was incapable of that type of emotion. That I was incapable of love. That certainly wasn’t a conclusion that I’d ruled out.

It was after ten when a bunch of us commandeered a lounging area set up specifically for the party. I sat on the loveseat, Celia at my side. Christina Brooke half sat, half fell at my feet. I imagined she’d gone past tipsy to drunk, but most of it was an act. She was looking for an excuse to lean against my leg. I didn’t mind. I liked the way her hand held onto my thigh as her breast pushed through her tank against my bare shin. My view of her was fantastic. I could see down her shirt with ease. She was an extremely sexy girl with plump lips that I couldn’t help imagining wrapped around my cock. I had a semi just thinking about it.