The Football Player's Rebel

Melanie's P.O.V. Tuck and I had known each other for ten years, living next door to each other and once upon a time being best friends.  As we grew up, we grew into different interests; his being sports and partying, mine being music and skateboarding.  Freshman, Sophomore, and Junior years I watched girls come in and out of his house.  His relationships always only lasted for about a month or two.  So it never surprised me when the girl he was dating at the time would randomly run out of the front door crying, because he broke up with them suddenly.  The break ups were never a serious, even though the girl he was dating at the time acted like it was.  In all honesty, it was becoming a twisted thrill of mine to watch the drama that came along with the undoing of his relationships. One Friday evening, I was sitting on my front porch reading, when Sara Johnson came running out crying.  I rolled my eyes at her, as I thought about how stupid every single one of these girls were. They all knew, everyone knew, he was such a player and had earned a reputation as such. I went back to reading my book, after I watched Sara squeal her tires out of the driveway, screaming and crying obscenities at Tuck as she drove away.  A few minutes later a large shadow covered my book, before the book was suddenly snatched from my hands.  "Hey!", I yell out, turning around quickly to face the perpetrator. "What'cha got there, Wilson?", Tucker chuckles as he reads the cover of my book. I angrily furrow my brows at him, "None of your business, Anderson!", I yell as I go to snatch my book away. He is too quick, though.  He yanks the book out of my reach at the last second, making me crash into his chest, because my feet have gotten tangled in the blanket I had wrapped around me a few seconds ago.   "Didn't peg you for the type to be reading erotic, romance novels!", he laughs at me as I try to untangle myself to no avail. He suddenly grabs under my arms and holds me up to help me untangle my feet from the blanket.  "Thanks", I say as I look up at him.   He smiles down at me and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, while brushing my jawline with his fingertips all at the same time. "No problem, beautiful.", he tells me as his eyes travel down the frame of my face to the curvature of my lips. I automatically start laughing at him, at the fact that he thinks he's pulling some slick moves on me, making my sudden outburst of laughter catch him off guard. "What are you laughing at?", he asks me as he starts to laugh nervously under his breathe. "You really think, that tucking my hair behind my ear and calling me beautiful, is going to give me butterflies and make me go all goo-goo like it does all of the other girls? Nice try, Anderson! I've seen you do this move at least four times over the last three years.  You're going to have to think of something better than that to cause me to have butterflies for you.", I tease, shoving his shoulder and snatching my book away from him at the same time, while he is too preoccupied with my rejection. He smirks at me, then laughs under his breathe and shakes his head, looking down at the ground, "Alright, game on!  I knew deep down it wouldn't work, but it still gave me a few seconds to admire that beautiful face of yours up close.", he says as he looks back up at me, his green eyes sparkling in the sunlight as he winks at me. I watch him as he turns around and walks away down the steps.  I bite my lip and clench my book to my chest, staring at his soft copper brown curls as they bounce, while he jogs off of my porch and back to his house. Truth is, he instantly gave me butterflies.  I would always get butterflies when it came to him. Damn it. *** The next morning I hear a knock at the front door. "What the heck?! It is Saturday, people!", I groan, as I flutter my eyes open to see sunlight beaming into my room.  I could hear my mom talking to someone in the living room, so I tiptoe to my bedroom door and creak it open to see who it is.  "She's in her room, Tucker.  Just go knock on her door and wake her up.  I'm sure she would love to go to the pier with you today!  It's been so long since you guys have hung out together! I'm actually really happy to see you coming around again.", my mom says as love and admiration fill her voice. Oh, crap! I run to my bathroom and grab my bra off the towel hook and scramble to get it on before he comes in.  He knocks on my door as I'm grabbing a flannel shirt from my closet.  I hear the doorknob turn and the door creaks open. "Oh! You're awake.", he says. I turn and look over my shoulder at him, nodding my head yes while I shrug the other sleeve of the flannel on.  He leans against the door frame and looks me up and down as he bites his bottom lip.  "Like what you're looking at, creep?", I say mockingly, squinting at him. "You have no idea, babe.", he says in a husky voice as he pushes himself off the door frame and starts walking towards me. He comes over to me and brushes my cheek with the back of his fingers, trailing them down my neck and to my collarbone.  I close my eyes under his touch and I start breathing heavier, goose bumps rising on my skin. "Does my touch feel that good to you?", he whispers into my ear. WHAT AM I DOING?! I snap my eyes open and slap his hand away. "Keep your hands to yourself, Anderson!", I say sternly, scolding him. He breathes out a small frustrated chuckle and shakes his head, looking down at the ground.  Then he looks back at me and runs his fingers through his curls, making them fuzz up a little bit. "Get dressed!  The day is wasting away, Wilson.", he says as he grins at me mischievously. "What makes you think I'm going somewhere with you?", I ask, crossing my arms over my chest. "Just get dressed, Wilson! Besides, I've already asked your mom and she said yes.  I know how she is when it comes to being polite to people and not backing out on plans.  So, you don't really have the option of backing out now since she already told me I could have you for the day.", he says as he winks at me, knowing he has me trapped. Damn it.  He was right.  My mom could never say no to anyone, and because I'm her daughter I have to hold myself to the same standards as well. Otherwise, I would get grounded for being rude. "Give me a few minutes and I'll be right out.", I say to him as I sigh, almost mumbling the sentence because I'm so irritated that he knows how to get his way through my mom. "Don't mind me!", he says as he plops himself down on my bed, leaning back against my headboard and putting his hands behind his head. I roll my eyes at him.  He wants to play games with all the touching and feeling, I can do that too. He forgets that I know all of his moves, and he forgets that I'm not one to back down no matter the circumstances.  My confidence has always been my best trait. I grab a Motley Crue tee that I had cut into a crop top from my closet and cut off high waisted shorts from my dresser.  I slide off the flannel shirt, my tank top, and pajama shorts right in front of him, only being in my bra and underwear.  Tuck and I had known each other since the second grade, we had swam together and played doctor together, it's nothing he hadn't seen before, anyway.  Although, I wasn't as...developed, back then. I avoid eye contact as I slide my clothes on.  I walk over to my closet and grab my snapback that says "beautiful disaster" on it, off the hook, putting it on backwards. Then, I bend down to grab my black vans from the bottom of my closet.  I hear a low, agonizing growl come from Tuck's throat.  I grab my shoes and turn around to look at him with furrowed brows, confused as to why he is making that noise.  He was now sitting up on my bed,  his eyes are dark as he stares at me while biting his bottom lip. "What's your issue?", I tease, as I sit down on the bean bag chair in the corner of my room, to slide on my vans. He pushes himself off of my bed and walks over to me, grabbing the shoes from my hand quickly.  "Hey!", I yell as I jump up, trying to grab my shoes back from him.  He holds them over his head with one hand and then wraps his free hand around my waist when I try to get them from him, pulling me so close into his chest I can smell the scent of axe deodorant coming off of him.  He lifts me off the ground with ease since he's six foot four, and walks me over to my bed, laying me down. "What are you doing, you freak?!", I yell as I laugh at him, because honestly he is being way too playful, it is just ridiculous at this point. "Putting your shoes on for you, Cinderella!", he replies as he starts untying my vans. "EW! NO! You're just being weird now!", I say as I laugh, putting my foot on his chest, to try and shove him away. He grabs my foot as I go to shove him away and pulls me to the edge of the bed.  He is now standing in between my legs, the zipper of his jeans rubbing roughly against the inseam of my shorts.  He leans over, putting one of his hands on the mattress next to my head. "You can either let me put your shoes on so we can go to the pier, or we can keep laying on this bed and, um...play around all day.", he lowly says to me in a husky voice. Tucker wiggles his eyebrows teasingly as he enunciates the last part of the sentence.  I sigh loudly, acting like my heart isn't beating out of my chest from him being so close to me. Acting like I don't like him touching me the way he is. Acting like I am annoyed with his rough playing. I slowly lean back up and scoot away from him, lifting my foot up to him so he can put my shoes on.  He pauses for a couple of seconds, looking a little disappointed that I gave in so easily, before he starts putting my shoes on.  Once he is done, I jump off of the bed and grab the blue flannel I had on earlier off of the floor, tying it around my waist as I walk towards the door.  I grab my skateboard by my bedroom door, and my ray-bans off the top of the dresser, hooking them into the collar of my shirt.  I turn and look at him angrily, "Let's just go, ok?" I hate the way he makes me feel.  I hate every bit of every emotion that just ran through me. I COULD NOT go through this again.  I'm a go with the flow type of girl, but this I can't handle.  I can't handle the feelings he's making me feel again.  I can't handle the way he's looking at me.  He should know better than to act like this with me, like everything is just all of a sudden back to normal when we both know it's not.  I won't give him the upper hand in thinking he hurt me, though.  I won't act like these girls that run out of his driveway crying all of the time.  I'm not sure what type of game he's playing, but he won't get that from me.  If he wants to play a game with me, then I hope he's ready for the challenge.