Free Some Boy (What's Love? #1) by Jenna Cox Page A

and pushed into me suddenly.   I stifled my gasp against his shoulder, but I was already rocking with his thrusts. We moved together in tightly entwined rhythm. I bit down harder to stop myself from crying out, as I reached the peak rapidly, forcefully, and Brendan met me there with shuddering exhales. We collapsed onto the bed, panting. And I was laughing.
    Brendan leaned over me, eyebrows raised. “I’m glad I amuse you.”
    Still laughing, I shook my head, but I was too breathless to speak. Brendan was grinning. I lifted up and kissed him, then dropped my head back down with a sigh. And then I opened my mouth to say something, not entirely sure what, but I could feel some rush of emotion coming on. And I didn’t like it. It made my heart thud even harder in my chest than it already was.
    So instead of saying anything, I shoved him out the way and jumped up, ducking into the bathroom, snatching up my underwear on the way.  
    And when I reemerged, I avoided looking directly at him as I searched through the dresses hanging in my closet for something suitable. Brendan was already dressed again, since he only really had to button his jeans and he was done.   I stifled the urge to mention the wrinkles in said jeans, and his T-shirt, from lying crumpled on the floor overnight. It would drive my mother even crazier than me, and wasn’t that what I wanted?
    And when I felt the urge to put on a purple, bohemian maxi skirt, I sighed and leaned my head against the edge of the closet.
    “What’s up?” Brendan asked, watching me.
    I rolled my head to the side to look at him. “Why do I have this urge to totally fuck with my parents? I mean, a week ago I was crying myself to sleep because I thought I’d killed my mum. Now I want nothing more than to totally piss them off.” I chewed on my lip. “Do you feel that? With your parents?”
    “My dad, yeah. But he’s an arsehole.”
    “Well, if I can ever return the parental-pissing-off favour on your end,” I said, “I’ll do my best.” I grinned at him, and he half smiled back, but there was something in his expression that was dark, like a cloud passing in front of the sun.
    “That would require my dad giving a fuck about what I do with my life,” he said. My smile faded completely then.  
    But a knock at the door distracted me from probing further.
    “Kat?” It was Izzy, through the closed door this time. “Your mum was going to come looking for you, but I said I would. Probably can’t hold her off much longer, though. Even Justin is running out of steam.”
    “Okay, thanks, Iz. Sorry. I’ll be right there.”  
    Purple, bohemian skirt it was.  

    *-*-*
    The silence was so awkward that I think even Brendan had started feeling nervous.  
    Once we had ordered our food and the drinks had been poured—Dad ordered wine for us all—the silence had descended like an impermeable haze. I literally could not think of a single word to say, even something inane, or trite, which I normally did whenever I wanted to ruffle my mum’s feathers.
    Eventually Brendan started talking, expounding on some mathematical concept he had been learning in one of his classes. None of us understood, though we all nodded and mm-hmmed at appropriate moments, just to avoid a lapse back into nothingness.
    Brendan was finally exhausted, and we picked up our glasses and took gulps of wine. Brendan stared at me over his wine glass. I put my hand out and squeezed his knee under the table. I could feel his nervous tension, and wondered if perhaps he was rethinking how much he was willing to pay for a free meal, after all.
    “How’s school going, Katherine?” my mum finally asked, almost sighing as she said it.
    “Good.” Words. Words. Where the fuck are the words? “Uh, my exam resit is on Monday.”
    “Oh, you didn’t take that already? I thought you had,” my dad said, glancing at my mother. “Clare, you said she had.”
    “I thought she had,” my mum said to him, then turned on