"Fine, lets have fun"

My smirk gets impossibly wider. "Now you'll know who the better kisser is" I whisper against his lips.

"Well see about that" he challenges keeping up our competitive bickering even in a time like this.

He closes the distance between us by pulling me towards him with the hand on the back of my neck. The kiss starts off slow and cautious, I have no idea how I ended up kissing Clay out of all things to happen tonight, but here I am.

One of my hands fly up and my fingers lace through his wavy hair. I haven't kissed someone this good in a really long time.

The kiss remains slow for only a little while longer until we both get fed up with the pace. He bites the bottom of my lip trying to gain dominance and slip his tongue in my mouth but I refuse to give up that easily.

His hand that was on the back of my neck loosely falls to the front of it as he puts pressure on the side of my throat making my lips part slightly.

He pulls away and looks at me with a smirk. "All I want to do..." he pulls me in closer with the hand on my neck. "Is destroy that pride of yours" he says in a low tone. "I doubt that will ever happen." I clap back, pretending to not be fazed by his words.

He connects our lips once again, but this time it isn't as slow as before. He slips his tongue in almost immediately. I try and fight him with mine but he overpowers me and I let it happen. I feel his smile against my lips, knowing he's feeling satisfied. "That's it" he praises into the kiss, and I cannot deny the butterflies I feel in my stomach.

We continue making out and his hand on my hip slips to my ass. He grabs it harshly and I gasp against his lips. I hate to admit but he is a better kisser than I thought.

I trail my hand down his torso and under his shirt, I feel his abs against my fingertips. The hand that was previously around my neck has now gone back to its original position, tangled in my hair as he tugs at it to break off the kiss.

Confused thoughts fill my mind for a split second until he tilts my head up and I feel his lips against my neck. He peppers short kisses and then starts sucking on certain spots. He reaches the crook of my neck and sucks harshly. My eyelids start feeling heavy and I let out a small noise at the feeling. He lifts his mouth towards my ear as he whispers, "tell me George, am I a better kisser than him?" I nod quickly my mind too blurry to dismiss his words. Wanting so badly to feel his lips back on my neck.

"I want to hear you say it" he presses as he lightly kisses behind my ear.

"Yes you're better Clay" I mutter quietly.

"See George doesn't it feel good to finally just, give in" he asks smirking against my neck. I don't give him the satisfaction of responding. His words have some type of affect on me, maybe its the tension between us. I grind my hips down against him. I can feel the bulge in my pants starting to form. I feel his hand hold my hip down not letting me move, as he tries to keep me grounded. I push down again defying him and he pulls my hair so that I am now facing him. Through gritted teeth, he says slowly, "Slow down".

"Why?" I ask my eyebrows knit together.

"Because if you keep going I won't be able to resist the urge to fuck you right now" he responds and I can feel his hot breath against my lips.

"So, how is that a problem?" I bat my lashes innocently with a grin on my face.

"The problem is I'm not fucking you drunk" The hand that was tugging against my hair falls to my bottom lip as he runs his finger over it, then letting it settle against my hip. He leans his head back against the couch and we just stare at each other. "You've fucked plenty of girls drunk, who cares" I keep prodding in hopes he gives in. "What too scared you can't handle me?" I feel my confidence coming back.

"Oh George I'm not scared, don't you worry" he continues.

"Then lets get this show on the road!" I say sassily snapping my finger in the air.

He shakes his head dismissing me, "Not now, I want you to remember how good I made you feel"

My thoughts run wild at the implication. Does this mean that he wants to fuck me?

This was the last thing I could remember from that night.

I wake up in my bed with nothing but my boxers on, tucked in under my comfortable covers. As my eyes adjust to the light coming from the cracks in my curtains, I curse myself for the hangover I am currently feeling, getting a sense of Deja vu from the aftermath of last weeks party.

As I force myself to sit up and look around, I find my room empty with my clothes from last night discarded on my bedroom floor. I honestly can't remember how I got here. On most occasions when I get blackout drunk, I wake up with Braden beside me knowing he had helped me get to bed, but this time I was met with an empty space next to me.

I groan and stand up, feeling disgusting after last nights drinking, I decide on taking a shower. As I walk over to my washroom and suddenly hear footsteps coming from below me. My body becomes still and I let myself fall quiet, as I try my best to listen for more noise. After a few seconds, I'm met with silence and I exhale slowly, relief setting over me. I don't know who would be here since my mother is not supposed to be home, so it frightened me a bit.

I continue what I was doing and turn on my shower, steam filling the room as I get my towel, waiting for the water to heat up.

I jump in and take a quick shower, all I want to do right now is chill and watch Netflix, I'm too tired to stand for a long period of time.

When I get out I throw on a new set of clothing, settling with some black sweatpants and a lose thrasher t-shirt, not trying to impress anyone.

I start brushing my teeth and when I take a better look at myself in the mirror, my eyes fall on the dark red and purple marks made on my neck. My eyes widen and I slowly trail my fingers over them as the memories from last night return to me. I quickly finish up in the washroom and try my best to shake away the thoughts. I can't believe I made out with Clay. Why would I do that? I know I was having a hard time and needed a distraction but that was definitely not the root I wanted to take.

Trying to rid myself of the memory, scenes keep coming back to me as I remember how good his lips felt against mine, and the feeling of his delicate touch on my skin. I walk downstairs, torn about what to feel as I am met with a certain blond boy sitting at the island in my kitchen.

He is facing opposite of me and I pause in my tracks.

"What the fuck are you doing in my house?" I ask frustrated, he was the last person I wanted to see right now.

His neck slightly turns to face me and he gives me a big goofy smile, "Good morning to you too!" He says cheerily.

"Clay what are you doing here, this is creepy" I continue and walk towards the kitchen, now standing on the other side of the table, keeping my eyes locked on him.

"Here, I made you breakfast" he pushes a plate towards me that has a stack of pancakes on it. I keep my deadly stare on him and he raises an eyebrow questioningly. Why is he acting as if he didn't practically break into my house?

"Answer my fucking question" I ask once again, demandingly.

"Jeez someone's hungover" he says under his breath as he continues to stuff his face with food. "Well I don't know how much you remember from last night, but you left the room saying you were gonna vomit and I found you later on, passed out in the washroom." He pauses and stands up walking his dish over to the sink. He turns back to face me leaning against the counter with his arms crossed.

When I process all the information, I feel myself becoming angry with him, "So you decided to bring me to bed and undress me? Who do you think you are" I cringe at the thought of him seeing me so vulnerable, practically nothing covering me up.

"You didn't let me finish" He snaps back, "I found you passed out, and Braden was hovering over you, I didn't see what he was doing since he was quick to step away when I entered, but when my eyes fell on you, you were sitting on the counter in only your boxers with your neck practically snapping at how slouched over it was" he says in a tone that is somewhat gentle. My eyes fall to the ground as I put the pieces together, remembering when I had woken up in that same position from the previous party.

"This happened last week" I mumble out, my eyes pricking with tears, threatening to spill over. I quickly collect myself when remembering who is standing in front of me and when I meet his gaze again, he gives me an apologetic look.

"So what did you do?"

"I kicked his ass, just as I promised" he says proud of himself, giving me a toothy grin.

My heart sinks to the bottom of my stomach when the words fall out of his mouth, all I can think back to is the time Braden informed me of the things he has on me, and how I could never leave him.

"Please tell me you didn't" I say in a whisper, silently praying this is just another one of his sick jokes.

"Nope" he says while popping the P, "Bastard had it coming" he shrugs and pushes of the counter, now hovering over me. As much as I agree with him, he doesn't know the problems he is causing me.

My face twists into one of anger. I approach him slowly, "Clay, you just made everything ten times worse for me and you don't even realize it" I start raising my voice involuntarily as I feel the rage seep through me, "Its so much more complicated then you think, can't you get that through your thick fucking skull? I told you and Nick to stay. Out. Of. It." I drag the last few words out and point my index finger into his chest. "Got it?"

"You think I'm just gonna sit around and let you get hurt?" He questions looking down on me, keeping his hands to the side of him.

"Stop acting like you care about me! We have never liked each other and we never will so just get the fuck out of my house" This whole situation is making me feel so overwhelmed and I understand he is trying to help, but I push everything aside and try my best to get him to leave me alone. I don't want to involve him in my fucked up life, and I don't want him to think so lowly of me.

So I do my best to scare him off.

He doesn't seemed fazed at all by my words and I feel his hand intertwine with mine. How can he be so nice after all the things I had just said to him.

"What does he have on you George?" He asks with a concerned face, his eyes flickering between both of mine.

"Nothing." I say keeping my reply brief, confused as to how he figured it out.

"I can read you like a book, you're scared" his voice remains soft, as if he is trying to calm me down.

I exhale a breath and close my eyes, "just please leave, I'm not feeling well and I don't want to talk about this right now"

I do what I am best at, keeping my feelings bottled up.

I take a few steps back, my gaze falls to the floor and our hands disconnect. I feel his stare on me but I chose not to return it. I hear him let out a quiet breath as he says, "Fine, but we will continue this another day, I'm not leaving you alone"

He trails off into the hallway. When I hear the door close I let myself break down from holding it in for so long.

I hate him, I can handle myself.