Yeah, I wasn’t expecting that either.
But I was a horny teenage boy, she was a pretty girl known for getting around, and Sarah only saw me as a friend.
So what followed was primal filth full of sweaty moans and a couple of classic claw marks.
The next day when I saw Sarah, I paused in the hallway about ten feet away, watching her sit in her wheelchair as she dug a book from her locker. Even though I felt guilty as hell, I knew I shouldn’t because no matter what I felt for her, she didn’t feel that for me, meaning I hadn’t cheated on her. It could only be cheating if she felt the same way I felt, right? And if she had felt the same, then I wouldn’t have done anything with Shayla anyway. So my instant guilt was a moot point.
Bottom line was, Sarah only saw me as a friend, which meant I was going to have to get used to doing things with girls who weren’t her, because my time with Shayla had settled something inside me.
It was as if I’d gotten every animalistic urge I’d been having out of my system. And now...now I sensed I could go back to just being Sarah’s friend and not wanting more. The moment she closed her locker and saw me watching her, I didn’t immediately focus on her mouth and want a blow job. I just saw my friend.
And that was how I needed to keep it.
From that point on, I knew what I had to do to keep life between us clean and pure.
Though I didn’t tell her anything about what had happened between me and Shayla—or any other girl who followed—word got out, and I became “the man” for being the only sophomore to score with the head senior cheerleader. Sarah would’ve had to be deaf and dumb not to hear about it, but she never said anything to me, so I never said anything to her. And that’s how our friendship continued. I kept my sex life private while everything else in me belonged to her.
SARAH
AGE 18
I was full of butterflies. Not just in my stomach. I swear they’d gotten loose from there and were fluttering throughout my entire body, because I was driving all on my very own.
In my own car!
After getting permission from the doctor, going through hours of a special driver’s training class, and getting an SUV to hold my wheelchair on a ramp from the back and hand controls, since my arms worked better than my legs, I finally had a license!
The first place I went—after a twenty-minute talk with Mason to assure him I was going to be okay—was Brandt’s house. It was his birthday and he was set to pick me up in an hour for dinner out to his favorite restaurant. But I wanted to surprise him with my new license and car.
I had a little more difficulty getting out of the vehicle after I parked in front of the Gamble house than I’d had getting in it. Of course, both Mason and Reese had been hovering and were overly helpful getting me into my seat when I’d left home. I inched my way to the back where my chair was. Lowering it to the curb was a bitch. I almost called Brandt to come out and get me, but I didn’t want to ruin the surprise, plus I wanted to be able to do this all by myself, so I gritted my teeth and just powered through.
It was a good thing I was a patient person, otherwise I would’ve gone batty years ago from all the frustrations my CP gave me. I was still cursing under my breath by the time I finagled my way into my chair and was wheeling up the driveway. No way was I making it up the steps to the front porch, so I went straight to the back where Brandt had rigged up a ramp for me last year.
Being such a frequent visitor, I didn’t bother to knock. And since I was still going for the element of surprise, I didn’t immediately call out a greeting. I hadn’t seen any vehicle in the driveway except for Brandt’s, so I figured he was home alone.
Glad I had my quiet chair today, I snuck down the hall toward his room, unable to contain my grin. I couldn’t wait to show him my new license. He would understand more than anyone how much this little show of independence meant to me. Mason had never once made me feel like a burden, but I’d felt like one to him anyway, ever since Mom had died and I’d moved in with him and Reese. I either wanted to help more or at least be less needy for them. And this was the biggest step I’d taken in that direction.
Tonight was going to be a double celebration: Brandt finally catching up and turning eighteen with me, and me for becoming liberated. I was so caught up in my happy little bubble that I didn’t hear the girl until I was only a few feet from his door.
Jerking to a halt when her laughter floated into the hallway, I gaped at the place his door was cracked open until she spoke again. My heart suddenly beat so loudly through my head it was hard to hear anything else for a second.