32: Stolen Intimacy Part 02

Isla’s wistful sigh hung in the air, thick with unspoken longing. Then, her gaze sharpened, turning directly to me, with a curious tilt to her head. “So… what about you and Julian?” she asked, the question seemingly casual, yet with an underlying probing quality. “Have you two… You know… finally done it?”

A cold knot of guilt twisted tighter in my stomach, a visceral reaction to the innocent inquiry. The image of Julian’s trusting smile flashed in my mind, a stark contrast to the memory of Asher’s possessive thrusts deep inside me. The lie felt heavy on my tongue. “No,” I managed, the word barely a whisper.

Isla’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Really? You guys have been together forever! What are you waiting for?” She leaned closer, a conspiratorial glint in her eyes. “Seriously, CeCe. What’s the hold-up?”

I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, the movement feeling stiff and unnatural. “I don’t know,” I mumbled, avoiding her gaze, my fingers picking nervously at a loose thread on my shorts. The reasons felt vast and complicated, a tangled mess of fear, guilt, and the undeniable pull towards someone who wasn’t Julian. But those were secrets I couldn’t share, a chasm widening between Isla and me with every stolen touch, every whispered word with Asher. The simple question felt like a spotlight on my deception, the weight of it pressing down on me, suffocating me in the bright afternoon sun.

Across the sun-drenched field, I noticed Noah pulling Asher aside, their shadows stretching long and distorted in the late afternoon light. Their body language was serious, Noah’s brow furrowed with concern as he spoke intently. Asher’s posture was defensive, his gaze flicking nervously towards the stands, a fleeting, almost paranoid glance that sent a jolt of cold fear through me. Had Noah seen something? Did he suspect? A knot of anxiety tightened in my stomach.

Then, Isla’s gaze returned to me, and the warmth was gone, replaced by a sharp, calculating intensity that lingered for a moment too long, the feeling of being watched intertwining uncomfortably with the memory of Asher’s intense, possessive gaze during our stolen moments. Isla’s forced smile didn’t reach her eyes as she turned back to the field, the weight of that look hanging heavy in the clear afternoon air between us, a suffocating premonition.

"You and Asher have always been so close," Isla commented casually, her eyes never leaving my face as she spoke, a subtle knowing glint in their depths that sent a fresh wave of panic washing over me. "You two were missing for quite a while at the victory party the other night, weren’t you?"

My breath hitched. My carefully constructed composure threatened to crumble. "What? No," I said, my voice a little too high-pitched, a little too quick. "You know Asher found me outside. Some… some drunk guys were hitting on me. It was nothing." I tried to sound dismissive, but the frantic beat of my heart was a deafening roar in my own ears.

Isla's gaze remained fixed on mine, unconvinced. "Hitting on you? Outside? For that long?" A small, knowing smile played on her lips. "Asher stayed out there with you the whole time?"

"Yeah," I said, trying to project an air of being shaken. "I was pretty freaked out. He was just being a good friend."

"But... where was Julian?" Isla asked, her tone deceptively innocent, yet the question hung in the air like a pointed accusation.

My jaw tightened. "He was inside, having fun with everyone else. I wasn't going to drag him out and ruin his night because of some stupid guys who had too much to drink." The lie felt like a bitter taste in my mouth.

Isla's smile faded, a hint of something sharp entering her eyes. "So, you wouldn't ruin Julian's fun, but it was okay to disappear for a significant chunk of the party with Asher? Didn't you think that might, I don't know, ruin our fun? Or at least make me wonder where my boyfriend and his best friend had vanished to?"

A surge of anger, sharp and defensive, flared within me. "Asher has been my best friend for years, Isla. He was just looking out for me. I didn’t ask him to follow me outside while I got some fresh air. If you have a problem with that, then maybe you should take that up with him." My voice was tight, the forced casualness gone, replaced by a brittle defensiveness. The weight of my secret, the constant need to lie and deflect, was starting to suffocate me.

Isla stared at me, her mouth slightly agape, seemingly dumbfounded by my sudden outburst. The cheerful light in her eyes flickered, replaced by a look of hurt and confusion.

"Whoa," she said softly, her voice barely above the distant cheers from the field. "Okay. I... I didn't mean to imply anything. I just..." She sighed, running a hand through her sun-streaked hair. "I've just been... on edge lately, you know? Since Asher hasn't... well, you know." She trailed off, a vulnerable look crossing her features. "It's been weeks, CeCe. Weeks since he's even held my hand properly, let alone..." Her voice faded again, a hint of tears welling in her eyes. "He's just been so distant, so... different. It has me wondering what's going on, you know?"

A fresh wave of guilt washed over me, eclipsing some of my anger. Her vulnerability was a stark reminder of the pain my betrayal was causing, even indirectly. But a stubborn defensiveness still lingered.

"Well, maybe instead of subtly accusing everyone around you, you should just ask him, Isla," I said, my tone still sharper than I intended. "He's your boyfriend. Talk to him." The words felt hollow, hypocritical even as I spoke them, knowing the tangled web of lies and deceit I was actively weaving.